I BIOGRAPHY or LF-T AUGHT MEN WITH AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Per augiuta aa augutta. BOSTON: E. TILTON AND COMPANY, 161 WASHINGTON STREET 1 859. CONTENTS. PAGE Introductory Essay, 5 Roger Sherman, 63 Christian Gottlob Heyne, (of Gottingen,) 76 William Whipple, ••••• 83 Alexander Murray, 86 Stephen Hopkins, 100 Professor Lee, 104 William Gilford, 110 Thomas Baldwin, 121 David Rittenhouse, 131 Samuel Huntington, William Edwards, 151 Thomas Seott, 158 Lott Cary, 179 John Opie, 191 Nathaniel Smith, 20: John Godfrey Von Herder, 20f, Giovanni Battista Belzoni, 210 William Caxton, 216 Richard Baxter, 22i> Arthur Young, 237 Charles G. Haires, 244 Carsten Niebuhr, 250 Jonas Rmg, 273 Humphrey Davy, • • • • 290 Adam Clarke, so£ ^ Count Rumford, (Benjamin Thompson,) 317 ^ f If -A INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. The future history of the United States is a subject of deep interest. We are come to a very important period in our course. The strength of our political system is beginning to be tried. The tendencies of our institutions are becoming apparent. The elements which form a general national character, are combining and coalescing. It is emphatically a day of trial. Every thing is subjected to a rigid scrutiny. Merely prescriptive rights are abandoned. Reliance upon authority is given up. Such being the condition of the country, it is not an inappropriate question, What is to be done? There are local divisions, civil strifes, rival religious denominations, great ques- tions pending in political economy, interesting relations with other portions of the world, and boundless resources for good or evil. What then are the duties which devolve on the American eitizen ? i* 6 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. It is very obvious, in the first place, that in the passion for novelty and change, we are to see that we do not give up any thing which is truly valu- able. We ought to remain firm on those great principles of politics and education, morals and religion, which have been tried, and have not been found wanting. There is little danger in this country of a too pertinacious attachment to old systems. The hazard is all on the other side. The love of innovation is vastly an overmatch for a blind regard to authority and antiquity. In detaching ourselves from what is absurd and er- roneous in former opinions, we shall, without great circumspection, abandon the true with the false, and shall soon find ourselves on an unknown sea, without any experience from the past, or guide for the future. As an instance in point, I might allude to the excessive simplification in books of education, relieving the student from the necessity of patient attention, and of thorough and discrimi- nating habits of thought. Another duty of great importance is, to induce a more fervent and general cooperation of the advocates of sound principles, in the diffusion of their opinions. There is little concentrated sym- pathy and fellow-feeling among the friends of man. They have not learned the power of associated effort. They do not act in masses. This trait in • INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 7 our character is principally owing to two reasons. We have no capital city. We have no acknowl- edged metropolis of letters or influence. There is no London, to which all the provincial towns willingly bow in homage. The tendency of our republican institutions is such, also, as to prevent an embodied and powerful action of the friends of virtue. Our freedom of thought and indepen- dence of character we sometimes carry to an extreme. We are better as private citizens than as members of a commonwealth. It is not true that the state of public morals and virtue is as elevated as that of the individuals who compose a community. We do that in a collective capacity, which we should not dare to do as friends or neighbors. Conscience, and the faith of solemn compact, are often voted away, when personal honor, or a mere verbal engagement, are sacredly remembered and redeemed. When a great prin- ciple is at stake, w r e must learn to dismiss all minor differences, to forget all local attachments, to abjure utterly every selfish consideration. What is a party, what is a religious denomination, when a fundamental law of right or justice is at issue ? Intimately connected with the preceding remark, is the undoubted truth, that questions of political economy are to be viewed far more than they 8 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. have been in this country, in connection with the operations of the providence of God. What volumes of ingenious speculation have been wasted in this captivating science, simply because the authors did not, or would not, look at the ar- rangements of the Power that ruleth over all. It is not pretended but that there are great and intrinsic difficulties in shaping a system of com- mercial intercourse, among the different parts of this country, and between the United States and foreign nations. Still it may be safely asserted, that one half of the vexation and trouble which have been experienced, would have been avoided, if our legislators were all Christian economists. The Author of nature, and of nations, did not leave the great subjects of internal or inter- national commerce in such profound doubt and mystery as is now thrown around them. He has made all the parts of a country mutually depend- ent upon each other, on purpose to counteract the selfishness of men. To promote the prosperity of one division of the United States, at the ex- pense of the happiness of any other portion, is adopting certain means to ruin the whole. The unnatural growth of one empire is as certainly destructive to itself as it is to that land from which it has subtracted its wealth. Men cannot be politicians, in the best sense of the word, with- INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 9 out adopting the principles of the Bible. The book of Proverbs, and the sermon on the Mount, contain the elements of the best political economy which was ever devised. They inculcate what is of immeasurable importance in the intercourse of nations — enlargement of mind, and comprehen- siveness of view, and clearness and power of conscience. These would settle questions of for- eign intercouse and domestic improvement, with far more certainty and safety than the volumes of Adam Smith, or the statistics of Seybert or Pitkin. Here, then, is a great duty to be per- formed. Those same elevated and Christian principles are to be carried into all the duties of the statesman, which have been so happily intro- duced into some of the departments of criminal jurisprudence and penitentiary discipline. It is very evident, moreover, that great efforts are required to maintain the due ascendency of mind over matter. The accumulation of wealth is the object which absorbs the attention of all classes of our community. Almost the entire population of the country are earnestly engaged in the development and employment of the physical resources of the nation. There is a boundless selfishness — a restless and unappeasa- ble desire to amass riches. This is the general theme of conversation in the public stage-coach ; 10 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. it is the reiterated topic of recommendation in official documents ; it is the foundation of irrita- ting comparisons between different portions of the country ; it causes the desecration of the ever to be hallowed Sabbath ; it stimulates the waking hours and animates the dreams of the private citizen. Mammon is the god of this country. The attainment of wealth is pursued, not as a means, but as an end. Our government does not employ the abundant resources of the nation, in extending the boundaries of science and of civil- ization, but rather in the purchase of more land. Individuals, as a general thing, do not amass wealth for the sake of becoming Maecenases, or Thorntons, or Boudinots, but for some personal and selfish consideration. Now this insatiate worldliness ought to be counteracted. A power- ful weight should be thrown into the opposite scale. Our country is ruined if it becomes too prosperous. Wealth, with all its concomitants and adjuncts, will not save us. Rocky coasts and rough fields, with virtuous hearts, are a richer inheritance than the golden mines of both hemi- spheres. It is the extension of the empire of mind which we need. It is the cultivation of the domestic graces and accomplishments. It is in- tellectual and moral glory, after which we must aspire. We must attain the enviable honor of INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 11 being an intellectual and religious nation. In renouncing the crowns and coronets, the pomps and vanities, of the old world, let us not devote ourselves to that which is infinitely more sordid. This leads me to remark, that we are called to the work of educating an innumerable multitude of minds. Popular instruction, in its most com- prehensive import, is to be the theme of absorb- ing interest. Connected with this subject, are questions of very wide application, which have been hardly considered yet. We are to provide means for extending the benefits of education to the extremities of society, to a scattered and ever emigrating population. We are to devise the best methods for combining legislative supervision and patronage, with private munificence. The philosophy of education is to be studied and taught as a practical science. Books, in all the depart- ments of education, are to be written by those who are intimately acquainted with the laws of the human mind. In short, a vast population are not only to have instruction communicated to them, but are to be inured to habits of self-educa- tion, and to be intrusted with the power of elevat- ing themselves indefinitely in the scale of im- provement. Once more, a national Christian literature is to be created in this country. There is a period, or 12 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. there are periods, in the history of every nation when the great currents of thought receive their direction, when the organs of intellectual life begin to move. Of what immense benefit had it been to England in all subsequent ages, if her Elizabethan era had been a Christian era ; if the great men who then toiled in the fields of knowl- edge, had all been Boyles and Miltons. How different would have been the destiny of France, if her literary men of the age of Louis XIV., had all been Pascals and Fenelons ; if that gor- geous constellation of intellect had been temper- ed with the mild beams of Christianity. How bright would have been the pages of her now blood-stained history! The great lesson which these facts teach us, is to seize the favorable mo- ment — to preoccupy the ground. Our state of probation, in this respect, is not past. With a few exceptions, we have now no literature. "We have nothing which can be called a National Literature. It is yet to be created. Those great controlling influences, which lift themselves into the upper firmament of thought, which are like the polar light, always visible, and always to be re- garded, are yet to be collected together. Though there are scattered rays of light every where, yet they have not been concentrated into reigning and radiant orbs. The fourth day is not come. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 13 A great object, therefore, an ultimate object, to be kept in view in this country, now and forever, is the highest possible cultivation of science and literature in connection with religion. It is an object vast enough for the concentration of every energy, physical, and mental, and moral, which God has given to us. Here may be exhibited a vigor of intellect, a purity of taste, a strength and fervor of religious feeling, all in delightful com- bination, such as the old world has never yet seen. Now is the time. We have separation enough from the other continents. We have ample sphere. We have no need to engrave our dis- coveries on columns of stone, to be wearily deci- phered by some subsequent age. We may spread them out before a great people. We may write them on ten thousand living and breathing hearts. Another very important object is, to turn to the best account the triumphs of the Christian reli- gion, which so mark the years that are now pass- ing over us in this country. These exhibitions of the grace and power of the Redeeming Saviour, may be attended with vast collateral benefits, if they are regarded with that importance which they deserve. When the powers of the world to come are visible, when there is an awakened and tender conscience and clearness of perception, 2 14 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. when men feel deeply that they are spiritual and immortal beings, then is a most favorable time to make sure of other great interests. The moral sense may be brought to bear on the whole circle of duties. Liberality of feeling and comprehen- siveness of mind may be successfully inculcated. The individuals in question, may learn to look on themselves as the subjects of a new and glorious economy, where they can breathe a fresher air, and obtain occasional glimpses of the higher abodes, where dwell their elder and more favored brethren. The simple personal safety of an indi- vidual, is not the only or the great object in view, in these days of the Redeemer's victories. Why should not the sphere of human sympathy be en- larged ? Why should not fresh charms be thrown over the whole aspect of human society ? Why should not the genial influence pervade all the intercourse of men ? Why should not revivals of Christianity exert a strong influence on the purity of civil elections, on the sacredness of judicial proceedings, on the contracts of com- merce, and on the durability of a republican government? The genuineness of that religion may well be questioned, which does not moderate the heat of party zeal, which does not diffuse itself into all the departments of civil life, — in short, which does not make men real philanthro- pists, pure and incorruptible patriots. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 15 But in order to fulfil these great trusts, and to accomplish these high purposes, we must bring some new powers into the field. A hitherto unknown agency must be employed. All the ordinary and accustomed means of changing public opinion, are not sufficient. We have not men enough, of the proper description, in this country. A new order of cultivated intellect is greatly needed. A limited number of eminent scholars, such as Alexandria, and Athens, and London in the days of Anne, contained, is not demanded. A multitude of learned men in the abstract sciences, such as Paris and some of the German cities embrace, would not accomplish the work. Neither would the parish schools and universities of Scotland supply the deficiency. They nurture metaphysical acumen, and strength of reasoning, indeed, but frequently at the ex- pense of benevolent feeling and religious princi- ple. Neither are the excellent common school systems of the northern States of this country, however great the blessings which they diffuse, equal to the enterprise to be accomplished. A class of men which will be fully adequate to the exigency, may be found in great numbers in this country. They compose the young men who have vigor of body, great strength and firmness of character, an ardent desire to acquire knowledge, a disposition to employ their powers in the diffusion 1G INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. of knowledge, with little or no pecuniary resources. They constitute a portion of the members of our colleges. Probably from fifty to seventy-five thousand of this class of young men, are pursuing, with various interest, the study of the sciences and of literature, at the lyceums, which are hap- pily extending into all parts of the country. Several thousand more are engaged in a course of study which is habitually connected with manual labor. A still smaller class, but amount- ing to nearly two thousand, are under the patron- age of various societies for the promotion of ministerial education. So that in all the classes enumerated, there are, doubtless, at least one hun- dred thousand young men in the United States, who are in a course of self-education. In this description of young men, there are materials of great value, which may be fashioned and moulded for important public service. No other nation on earth is possessed of such a treasure. This country is comparatively new. There is not, as in Europe, a multitude of large estates, which can furnish abundant means of education to the sons of a family. The popula- tion, in many parts of the land, is migatory also. Of course, the ancient seats of learning are left behind. Opportunities for a finished education cannot be obtained for many years after the first INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 17 settlement of a country. Besides, the population increases with such rapidity, that all the ordinary means for providing facilities for thorough mental discipline, are entirely inadequate. Such being the condition of things in this country, it follows almost of consequence, that there will be a class of men such as I have described, — of firm nerve, of aspiring hope, of powerful understanding, but not in possession of the means of pursuing an uninterrupted course of mental improvement. If they have the benefit of teachers, it is only at in- tervals. If taught at all, they must in a great measure teach themselves. They are compelled to rely on their own resources. That this class of young men is large, and capable of conferring great benefits on the country, no one can doubt. They possess some peculiar advantages over all other classes of men. They have confidence in their own power, Whatever of character they possess has been tried in the school of severe dis- cipline. They have breasted the billows, in a great measure, alone. Others have had their doubts resolved by teachers. In the final resort, they have depended on foreign and auxiliary aid. Their own powers have been tasked for a while, but the last weight has been lifted up by the shoulders of others. A clearer eye has penetrat- ed the dark cloud for them. It is sometimes the 2* 18 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. fact, that an individual who has been taught by- others, has more confidence in the opinion of every one else, than in his own. As a direct conse- quence, he is wavering, timid, pliable. His char- acter is not compacted and assimilated, but yield- ing and capricious-. His usefulness is of course greatly diminished. But the men of whom I speak, have measured their powers. They have depended very little on extraneous aid. Another attribute of this class of individuals, is independence of purpose. They are accustomed to form opinions according to the decisions of their own judgments. They are like that de- scription of lawyers, who have deeply studied the elementary principles of their profession, who have followed out these principles into all their ramifications, and who come to conclusions, which are, in a great measure, irrespective of particular facts — facts which may coincide, or may not, with an original principle. Such lawyers are in- dependent, in a great degree, of precedents, or of the opinion of courts. By severe thought and well-directed study, they have formed an inde- pendent habit of judgment. Such is the fact with those individuals who have been self- instructers. They may err in opinion, and their purposes may be formed on insufficient grounds ; but they are not accustomed to bow to human INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 19 authority, nor yield their free agency at the call of party or sect. Many of this class have, moreover, an invinci- ble perseverance. The resoluteness with which they resolve, has a counterpart in the untiring execution of their schemes. Difficulties only excite a more ardent desire to overcome them. Defeat awakens new courage. Affliction nour- ishes hope. Disappointment is the parent and precursor of success. A resolution so strong is sometimes formed, that it seems to enter into the nature of the soul itself. It swallows up the whole man, and produces a firmness of determina- tion, an iron obstinacy of pursuit, which nothing but death can break down. I have seen an individual commence a course of preparatory studies for a liberal education- Weakness of sight compelled him to suspend his labors. After a season of relaxation, he resumed his books, but the recurrence of the same disorder induced him to abandon the pursuit. He then assumed the duties of a merchant's clerk ; but the same inexorable necessity followed him. He entered into the engagements of a third profes- sion, with as little success as before. But he was not discouraged. An unconquerable determina- tion took possession of his soul, that, come what would, he would not despair. In the merciful 20 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. providence of that Being who " helps those who help themselves," he was directed to the manu- facturing of a certain article which was new in that part of the United States, and his labors were rewarded with entire success. In a few years, he became one of the most affluent indi- viduals in his vicinity. The following facts in relation to a gentleman, who is now a distinguished professor in one of the American colleges, will aiFord an excellent illustration for my purpose. The father of the individual alluded to, was a poor but intelligent man, gave his children a good common education, and also to some extent the privileges of an academy, which was situated in his native town. The occupation of the son was that of husbandry, especially during the summer months, being em- ployed by some neighboring farmer, as his father did not own a farm. Early in life he acquired a taste for mathematics, and never afterwards did he advance so rapidly in geometry and the kind- red studies, in the same number of hours' appli- cation to them, as in the evening after ten or twelve hours of hard labor in the field. Having obtained permission to see some of the astronomi- cal instruments belonging to the academy, he became particularly attached to practical astrono- my, though he could gain access only to elementary INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 21 books. Having made an observation upon an eclipse of the sun, for the purpose of determining the longitude of the place, he commenced the work of resolving the problem with only the gen- eral directions and tables in the common books of navigation ; and although it cost him several months of severe stud)', he succeeded in obtaining a correct result, except the errors of the lunar tables. He did not engage in the study of Latin and Greek, until after he had been interested several years in mathematics, and then, mainly because he found that he could not otherwise be- come a teacher. While occupied in these studies, he supported himself in part by occasionally sur- veying land, and in part by undertaking the busi- ness of a carpenter, having discovered that this art depended on a few simple mathematical prin- ciples easily applied. The object which he now had in view, was to prepare himself to enter Har- vard college two or three years in advance. He was for the most part his own instructor. The minister of the parish rendered him some assist- ance ; but the whole amount of his recitations in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, philosophy, chemistry and natural history, during the whole course of his life thus far, has not been greater than the recitations in college for six months. Having looked forward with much pleasure to the INTRODUCTORY ESSAT. privileges of a college, and having been nearly prepared to enter a junior class, a sudden termin- ation was put to his literary efforts, by the failure of his eyes, in consequence of applying too close- ly to the study of the Greek language, during a feeble state of health. For the following year, he was compelled to abandon reading and study almost wholly ; and from that time to the present, — a period of sixteen years, — he has rarely been able to read steadily, for one hour, without expe- riencing much and often severe pain in his eyes, sometimes threatening apoplexy. This affliction, though highly beneficial in its moral influence, was apparently fatal to all his literary plans ; yet he could not quite abandon them. In order to obtain a subsistence, he soon after accepted the office of a deputy or assistant to the sheriff of the county. Feeling confident that he must entirely renounce the idea of obtaining a subsistence by literary efforts, and seeing nothing before him but a life of servile labor, he was induced to write and publish a dramatic performance of considerable length, with the hope that it would excite some in- terest in hif favor, wherever his lot might fall. The composition, though bearing the marks of inexperience, contains some passages of true poetic feeling, expressed in powerful language. Soon after this event, he was very unexpectedly INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 23 invited to teach the academy in his native village. To acquit himself in this new sphere of duty, he made great efforts. He now gave particular at- tention to classical literature. Finding that his health had suffered severely from previous efforts, and from the consequences of the dreadful des- pondency through which he had passed, he was compelled to abandon mathematical and astro- nomical studies, though it was a most painful sacrifice. Providence, however, furnished a de- lightful substitute. Natural history then first attracted his attention, and he soon found that he could pursue this study, without injury to his eyes, and with benefit to his health, in the inter- vals of severer engagements. These pursuits introduced him to the acquaintance of a number of distinguished gentlemen, in various parts of the country, who rendered him very valuable assistance. About this time, the honorary degree of Master of Arts was conferred on him by Yale college. The only pecuniary aid which he ever received, during the course of his education, was ten or twelve dollars. Notwithstanding, when he entered on his professional duties, he had obtained a respectable library, and was free from debt. He is now in a station of great usefulness, and has accomplished several undertakings, which have conferred lasting benefits on the country. 24 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. In the two words, industry and perseverance, is contained the secret of these results. With whatever original powers the Creator may have endowed him, they would have availed him noth- ing, without an unbending resolution, and severe and unremitted application. His history affords a remarkable instance of the energy of a self-taught man. Those events, in the providence of God, which would have presented insurmountable ob- stacles to other individuals, were only an excite- ment to him to urge, with fresh impulse, his onward course. Another characteristic of self-taught men, is, that they commonly devote themselves to some important practical object. They do not waste their power in pursuing trifles. They do not generally engage in the departments of criticism and metaphysics, which are rewarded with little practical result. It is those who have ample means of subsistence and support, who are be- guiled into merely speculative regions, or who devote themselves to undertakings of moderate or of doubtful utility. The case is different with those who are dependent on their own efforts for everything. The first direction of their minds is not so much to the sciences as to the arts. Car- pentry in various forms, surveying of land, the manufacture of machinery, the construction of INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 25 hydraulic engines, originally offering themselves to their notice, gave a shape to their whole subse- quent life. It is to be attributed to this fact, doubtless, that self-taught men are distinguished for invention in the arts. Their necessities have given a readiness to their minds, enabling them to seize on those combinations of thought, from which discoveries of great importance have some- times followed. They have also that power of patient application, which is alike important to discovery. Causes, however, exist, in this des- cription of men, unfavorable to the development of new truths in the abstract sciences. Self-taught men have also the faculty of clear- ly communicating their knowledge to others. In this respect, they make excellent teachers. They have worked their own way up the steeps of knowledge, and they can point out the path in which they came. Their attention was not absorb- ed by the movements of their guide, for they had none. The various objects which they met, they clearly marked and defined. Whatever were the general principles which they adopted, they were not taken upon trust, but were well considered. These individuals may not be able to explain their progress logically, or scientifically, but they can do it intelligently, and to good purpose. They have, also, in a striking degree, the ability to em- 3 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. ploy familiar illustrations. For the sake of throw- ing light upon their course, they have not search- ed for the images of poetry, nor listened to the personifications of the orator; they have collected the apposite and graphic illustrations and facts, which common people can apprehend and relish, and which are gathered from the rocks and the fields, and from all the incidents of ordinary life. Arthur Young, the self taught English agricul- turist, was distinguished as an instructer, insomuch that La Fayette, and the Russian prince Galitzin, and the Russian emperor himself, intrusted lads to his guidance and care. No treatise on astronomy has ever been so popular, and deservedly too, among all descriptions of learners, as that of James Ferguson, who discovered some of the principles of mechanics before he knew that any treatises had been written on the subject. Sir Humphrey Davy was, perhaps, the most popular lecturer who ever addressed a British audience. This was owing not more to the enthusiasm of his character, and his perfect knowledge of his sub- ject, than to the clearness of his expositions, and the transparency and beauty of his illustrations. There are, notwithstanding these various excel- lences, several acknowledged deficiencies of char- acter. There are blemishes, both of an intellec- tual and moral kind, which are almost inseparable INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 27 from a plan of self-education, and which are worthy of distinct consideration. One of the most manifest defects is, want of comprehensiveness of mind. The special advan- tage of a teacher is, to point out the connections among the different arts and sciences, their relative importance, the natural order of studying them, and the evils of a disproportionate attention to any one of them. The general directions of a judicious teacher are invaluable. They are like a drawing of the heavens to direct the course of the youthful observer among the millions of stars. But a student, without the instructions of an experienced guide, will be liable to seize at once upon the parts of a subject, or upon the middle of a treatise, without ever having surveyed his ground, or marked its general bearings. He will thus expend his labor at unimportant points, or in a disproportionate degree. There will be little symmetry and scientific method in his studies. His labors will resemble those of a mechanic, who should place a well-finished door or window in the side of an old and dilapidated dwelling. He has an accurate acquaintance with one branch of a subject, while all around it is in disorder and de- formity. And here it is not to be supposed that he will gain a more thorough knowledge of a specific topic, in consequence of giving an exclu- 28 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. sive attention to it ; and that this will atone for the loss of a general acquaintance with the subject. The study of Webber's trigonometry will furnish as much discipline for the mind, if the student, before he commences his investigation, knows the general relations of the mathematical sciences, as if he had no such general knowledge. A greater amount of mental discipline can be acquired, by studying the sciences in their natural, scientific order, than by attending to them exclusively and at random. A self-taught man is frequently at- tached, with a kind of favoritism, to a particular study. It absorbs his whole attention, and all other arts or sciences are .proportionably under- valued and slighted. The distinguished painter, Hogarth, affected to despise literature, and indeed every species of mental cultivation, except the knowledge of the art of painting ; and he even professed himself to have little or no acquaint- ance with anything else. The celebrated, self- taught anatomist, Dr. John Hunter, was almost entirely ignorant of all learning, even with that connected with his own profession. It has been asserted, that it not unfrequently happened, that upon communicating a supposed discovery of his own to some one of his own more erudite friends, he had the mortification to learn that the same thing had already been discovered by some other well- INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 20 known anatomist Michael Angelo could scarce- ly spell his name correctly. Benjamin West, the president of the Royal Academy for almost thirty years, never attained to a style of ordinary cor- rectness in his orthography. The disadvantages of the want of an early education, can never, in- deed, be entirely overcome. There will always be lingering traces of the deficiency. It is like the acquisition of the pronunciation of a foreign language at a late period in life. The nice pecu- liarities and shades of sound, cannot, by any effort, be acquired- Self-taught men are specialty liable to an ex- clusive attachment to pursuits which are obviously and immediately practical. There seems to be a general impression, that poetry, and the kindred branches of literature, furnish little else but amusement, and if read at all, can afford materi- als for recreation only in the intervals of imperi- ous duty. The tendency to judge in this manner can be accounted for, without any difficulty, from the circumstances in which self-educated men are placed, but the effects are very pernicious. Poe- try, in its best sense, is altogether a practical study. Its influence upon the whole mind of a reader, is, in the highest degree, favorable. As history is said to be philosophy teaching by ex- ample, so poetry is philosophy teaching by music 3* INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. It is good sense, pouring itself out in sweet sounds. It is powerful thought, uttering itself in the voices of angels. A true poet is a philosopher. Milton, and Wordsworth, and Coleridge, understand the phenomena of the human mind, as well as Male- branche, or Reid, or Brown. They have the same capacities of wide generalization, and accurate analysis, and faithful exposition. To read such poets, is as directly conducive to useful- ness, as it is to read the ablest metaphysical treatise. We cannot avoid regretting that a man like Dr. Franklin, was not conversant with the best poets. It would have been no injury to his usefulness as a profound observer of human man- ners. Common sense and the loftiest imagination are perfectly coincident. The same man may condense his ideas into epigrams and proverbs, or pour them out in strains of the most vigorous and harmonious versification. It is recorded of him who " spake three thousand proverbs, that his songs were a thousand and five." He that was wiser than all the children of men, who so con- densed and embodied his thoughts as to make nearly every word instinct with sentiment, could delightfully sing, " the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land." If INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 31 Benjamin West had read Chaucer, and Spenser, and Milton, it would not have subtracted in the least from his enthusiasm for his favorite art, while, in a thousand ways, it would have aided his power of conceiving and of delineating on the canvass, the varieties of human character. It would also have relieved the " American ? ' presi- dent of the Royal Academy, of the charge of being an illiterate man. John Opie, and Professor Heyne, and Sir Humphrey Davy, showed their good sense in nothing more than by an earnest at- tention to various branches of literature and science. It is not pretended that every man ought to attempt to become a universal scholar ; but that the highest excellence in any one pursuit, is incon- sistent with entire ignorance of science and liter- ature generally. Self educated men are pecu- liarly exposed to danger from this quarter; and instead of banishing works of taste and imagina- tion from the farm-house, and the lyceum, and the manual-labor school, they are the very productions which ought to meet with a welcome reception. It has been said, that very few, if any, discoveries in the abstract sciences, have ever been made by men who have instructed themselves ; that the general advancement of knowledge is almost en- tirely to be ascribed to men who have received a regular education. The labors of Franklin, Rit- 32 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. tenhouse, and others, may furnish some exceptions to this remark. Nevertheless, it is generally true, that prior to a particular discovery, an indi- vidual must take a wide, general survey of the fields of knowledge, else he may fondly imagine that he has elicited some new truth, which may at length appear to have been long before discov- ered and classified. Original conception and in- ventive genius, are in perfect harmony with extensive acquisitions. He, who would advance in any department of knowledge, must know what others have done before him. In stead of decry- ing the models of taste and genius of other ages and countries, it is the wisdom of every man to study them patiently and thoroughly. This is not a degrading subjection to other minds, which will cramp or annihilate genius. If ever there was an original author, it was John Milton — he who " chose early and began late." But who does not know that Paradise Lost is the spoils of all times and of all countries ? If ever there was a univer- sal plunderer, if ever there was a boundless plagiary, it was this same John Milton. He searched the Jewish records, and the Christian economy. He opened the Talmud, and he peru- sed the Koran. He reveled in the fields of Achaia, and on the hill-sides of Judea. He lis- tened to the sweet music under Italian skies, and ' INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 33 to the awful prophecies of the Druids. He drank alike of the Eurotas, and of that " stream which flows fast by the oracle of God." Another evil to which men of this class are liable is, what may be expressed by the term rigidness of character. They sometimes acquire a fierceness of independence, an extreme hardi- hood of spirit, which nearly destroys their social sympathies, and greatly subtracts from their use- fulness. They were themselves nursed in winds and storms. They trampled the most formidable difficulties under their feet, and smote into the dust every enemy which rose up against them. Some of them seemed to triumph over physical impossibilities, and to make the loss of one faculty or sense, the stimulus to push their remaining powers to the ultimate limit of perfection. Hence they infer that this same fortitude and fearlessness belongs, or should belong, to every other human being. Finding a deficiency of these stern quali- ties, they consider it as an offence almost unpar- donable. They do not have compassion on the erring and ignorant. They do not make suffi- cient allowance for human infirmity. They do not recollect, perhaps, those favorable conjunctures in the providence of God, of which they took ad- vantage, and which may not fall to the lot of others. Those, who have amassed large estates, by vigor- 34 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. ous personal effort, are sometimes disposed to carry habits of economy to absolute avarice. Misers are frequently found among this class of men. "What is won with hardship is held with a tenacious grasp. Fortunes thus acquired will not be dissipated, at least till the second generation ; a generation which knows not the habits of their fathers. An individual, who has become affluent by his own exertions, may acquire habits of gen- uine philanthrophy, and in that case, is entitled to greater commendation, in consequence of the difficulties which he has overcome ; still there is ground to apprehend that his charities will be confined to one or two favorite channels, and that, in the multiplicity of the smaller incidents and occasions of life, he will be far from exhibiting genuine greatness of soul, or real philanthropy of feeling. From the very nature of the case, he will be disposed to ascribe an undue importance to the various contrivances and systems, which are intended to enable an individual, without pecuni- ary resources, to rise, by personal exertion, to spheres of usefulness and honor. Intimately connected with the deficiency of character just described, is the habit of over- estimating personal or other attainments. Self- confidence is frequently carried too far. A great change in external circumstances, is always at- INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 35 tended with imminent danger in the subject of it. Elevate a servant to a throne, impart at once large literary treasures to an ignorant and obscure individual, fill the house of the poor man with wealth; and you take a most effectual way to imbue him with the spirit of arrogance and vanity. Julius Caesar Scaliger, the great critic, was a self-taught man, but guilty of the most ex- cessive affectation and pride. He was contented to be called Bordoni, and the son of a miniature painter, till he was nearly fifty years old. He then composed an elaborate memoir of his own life, in which he pretended that he was the last surviving descendant of a princely house of Ve- rona. Bandinelli, an Italian sculptor, the son of a goldsmith, and a grandson of a common coal- man, having, in the course of his life, acquired great wealth, and having been created a knight by Charles V., is said to have repeatedly changed his name, in order to hide his parentage ; and to have fixed at last upon that by which he is gener- ally known, in order that he might appear to have sprung from a noble family. A similar anxiety to secure to himself the reputation of a name, was manifested by the great Spanish dramatist, Lopez de Vega. One of the especial benefits of a regular edu- cation, is to wear away or cut off these excres- 36 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. cences of character. It is exceedingly difficult for an individual to retain in quiet possession, within the walls of a college, a great amount of self- conceit or vanity. He comes into contact with rough corners. He is speedily in collision with flint. Powerful minds will meet in fierce compe- tition, and sad will be his lot who brings into debate an unusual share of self-importance. Col- lege is a great leveler. Hence it is, that in the last sessions of a collegiate course, the real ad- vance can be measured by contrasting the accom- panying modesty and docility, with the opposite qualities, which are frequently visible at the earlier periods. At college, an individual will be com- pelled to learn what his real talents and attain- ments are. There is scarcely the possibility of deceiving several keen-eyed equals. There is very rarely an undue degree of sympathy or compassion in a classmate. But in the case of an individual who has educated himself, there is no class of men anywhere in his neighborhood, with which he can compare himself. He grows up alone. An innate vigor is the sap which nourishes him. All the in- dividuals of his acquaintance are, perhaps, clearly his inferiors. At the same time, his injudicious relatives may administer large draughts of flattery to his lips, till he becomes exceedingly wise in his own sight, and the wonder of the age which has INTRODUCTORY ESSAT. 37 produced him. As correctives of this very ob- vious evil, our public institutions are admirably adapted, and are, in fact, indispensable. To the numerous class of young men, in the United States, who are mainly dependent on their own resources for knowledge, or respectability, one of the most important counsels of wisdom, which can be addressed, is, study your own CHARACTER AND PROSPECTS. If VOU are JUSt emerging from obscurity, and breathing the fresh air of an emancipated mind, and thirsting for im- provement, and occasionally catching some gleams of light from that undiscovered land of promise which lies in the distant horizon ; let not your fancy, nor your excited feelings, lead you captive. Be calm and considerate. A wrong step now may blast your hopes forever. An imperfect estimate of the deficiencies of your character, may impede your course through your whole subsequent life. Be willing to know all the wrong habits which you have cherished, and all the weaknesses of your mind. Study your excellences also, so that you may not cultivate them disproportionately, nor yield to the influence of depression or despair, when you are tempted to place too low an estimate on your powers or acquirements. Be solicitous especially to understand what your physical con- 4 38 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. stitution is, so that you may make it subservient, from the beginning, to the most perfect action of mind and heart, so that all your capacities, intel- lectual and moral, may be safely, and to the high- est degree, developed. If there is an individual of your acquaintance, who knows your past history, and your mind, and who has gone through the course which you are commencing, let it be your object to gain from him a faithful analysis of your character, and an accurate chart of that path, of alternate storm and sunshine, which lies before you. If possible, find an experienced friend, who has an enlarged mind and a liberal heart, and who has no exclusive and favorite study or system of his own. The counsels of such a guide will be inestimable. Next to the blessing of the Al- mighty, they will ensure success. When all this is done, form a calm and deliberate determination that you will take that path, come what may, which will secure your highest happiness and use- fulness. Nourish that inflexible, that iron deter- mination in your heart, without which nothing will be achieved. In the second place, you will have occasion to guard against underrating knowledge. Learning, if it be thoroughly apprehended and digested, can- not be too highly esteemed. Mere acquisition of facts, indeed, without analysis and reflection, is INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 39 positively injurious to the mind. Reading, un- attended with contemplation, will produce habits of affectation and pedantry. Nevertheless, those, who are most exposed in this respect, are men of literary leisure, or scholars by profession. You are liable to fall into the opposite error. Com- pelled by your circumstances to think, relying on the native resources of your own mind, you will learn to look disparagingly on the scholar of com- prehensive and ample attainment. But extensive acquisitions are perfectly consistent with profound original investigation. Reading the thoughts of others, will often awaken interesting and valuable trains of reflection. An active mind will assimi- late, or correct, or transform the views of the author whom he is reading. The very ability to peruse certain books, implies that the reader him- self has powers of reflection and arrangement. Again, want of immediate success at the com- mencement of your studies, will, without great care, weaken your resolution, and interrupt your efforts. You have, perhaps, come from the toils of a shop or farm, to the hall of science, and to the pursuits of the scholar. Habits of close in- vestigation cannot be acquired in a day. A wan- dering mind cannot be fixed without painful effort. Associations acquired in pursuits alien from science and taste, cannot be changed at the mere 40 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. bidding of the will. Those lands of beauty and joy, winch shall at length open to your view, are at the commencement of your course, shrouded in impenetrable clouds. Algebra and Plato are in- vested with their full charms only to the practised eye, and to the disciplined intellect. You need to fortify your mind with the strong convictions of duty. Hearkening invariably to the decisions of an enlightened conscience, and the dictates of sound reason, you will at length find that the path of enlarged thought, and of cultivated feeling, and of refined taste, is the path of pleasure. You will be under the necessity, moreover, of rendering all your efforts at manual labor, and in procuring a supply for your physical wants, sub- servient to a certain purpose — advancement in mental and moral power. They must be means, not an end. If you are preparing for either of the learned professions, or to influence public influence in any way, you must make all things subordinate to your purpose. It is not your object to become an ingenious mechanic, an efficient merchant, or a practical farmer. Some individu- als, who are in a course of education, take more pleasure in the shop or on the farm, than in the study, and are more solicitous to be accounted skilful workmen than powerful scholars. It is the grand design, or it ought to be, of all manual-labor INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 41 academies, to promote mental and moral improve- ment. The connection between the system of bodily exercise, in all its details, and literary pro- gress, should be manifest and prominent. The high cultivation and valuable products of a farm, or a garden, should not be the boast of these in- stitutions. They are but minor and secondary matters. It is the bearing of these things on the development of the mind, and of the heart, which should arrest the attention and be rewarded with the encouragement of every observer. If this object be overlooked, or manifestly neglected, manual-labor schools will be an utter failure, and there will be a universal return to the old sys- tems of mere literary study, without any attention to the physical wants. These schools, to be suc- cessful, must furnish better scholars than any others — men of more vigorous understanding, and of more mental discipline. Bodies of perfect symmetry, and of gigantic muscular strength, are worthless in themselves alone. This is a subject of great practical importance. If these institutions fail on any one point, it will be on this ; and for a very obvious reason. It is important to direct public attention prominently to the physical part of the arrangements, or that wherein the institu- tion differs from those conducted on the former plan, in order to secure & sufficient amount of 4* 42 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. public patronage. Consequently, the principal interest of the community will be concentrated upon that which is obviously of secondary impor- tance. Besides, every individual who engages in physical exercise of any kind, must feel a consid- erable degree of attachment to this exercise, if he designs to derive from it material benefit. This attachment, by a very common law of the human mind, may increase and become the master passion of his soul. In regard to such individuals, in the class of self-taught men, who devote their attention to any of the mechanic arts, or to either of the depart- ments in common life and business, though their particular pursuit is to engross their chief atten- tion, yet it is of great importance that they become thoroughly acquainted with the principles of their trade, and with the reasons of the rules according to which they daily practise. They should throw as much mind as possible into all which they un- dertake. The perfection of machinery, and the excellence of soils, are not the only objects of in- quiry. The thorough acquaintance with the phi- losophy of the art, the means of its advancement, and the ways in which it can confer the greatest possible benefits on mankind — these are the topics which will command the attention of an individual, in proportion as his views are expanded, and his INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 43 feelings benevolent. No inconsiderable number of self-taught men have, in this way, conferred in- valuable benefits upon mankind. Watt, Fulton, Whitney, Franklin and Davy, will be dear and cherished names, ages hence. Another class of individuals to whom I have alluded, are pursuing a partial course of self-edu- cation, at lyceums. They can devote to literary and scientific pursuits only a limited portion of time, perhaps simply the evenings of the Winter months. By associating all the young men and others in the town, and statedly meeting for the consideration and discussion of important subjects, very great benefits may be derived, provided the association can be made to exist for a sufficient length of time. It needs a principle of vitality. To secure any great degree of usefulness, perma- nence must be given to it. It is a voluntary asso- ciation, in the strictest sense of the term. But no object of much importance can be secured, without the feeling of responsibleness, or accountability, in some of the individuals concerned. A few lec- tures on the common and familiar topics of science, or on matters of local history, will be of little service. There must be a plan to secure a per- manent and enduring interest. As many indi- viduals as possible must be brought into fervent cooperation. New arrangements of subjects must 44: INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. be occasionally adopted. Foreign aid, whenever practicable, must be secured. A well chosen and constantly accumulating library must be obtained. And, what is, perhaps, of greater importance than anything else, all the members must have something to do. Personal participation is the great secret of exciting and maintaining a permanent interest in an undertaking. To the individual who will even cursorily look at the state of this country, or the history of in- dividual men, in comparison with the history or condition of any other country, it must appear strikingly obvious, that never were circumstances more favorable than among us for the develop- ment and employment of mind. In this country, character and influence can be gained by vigorous individual effort. The whole community are the spectators and judges of the advancement of every individual. No iron hand grasps a man as soon as he steps into the world, and shrivels him up, while another rises simply because he is kept down. No class in the community are raised by the con- dition of their birth, or by such adventitious cir- cumstances, above one half the minds around them. Free and fresh as the air which he breathes, each individual may start in the career of improvement. Nearly all the circumstances which are calculated to depress and dishearten, arise from extreme INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 45 poverty and a very obscure parentage and birth- place, or else from personal considerations. But nothing short of absolute impossibility, in the providence of God, ought to deter any one from engaging in the pursuit of knowledge. Obstacles of fearful magnitude, and of almost every descrip- tion, have been overcome in innumerable instances. Have you been deprived of one of your senses ? Not a few have vanquished this impediment. The instance of Mr. Nelson, the late learned and classi- cal professor in Rutgers college, New Jersey, as detailed by Prof. Mc Vicar, in his Life of Griffin, is admirably in point. Total blindness, after a long, gradual advance, came upon him about his twentieth year, when terminating his collegiate course. It found him poor, and left him to all appearance both penniless and wretched, with two sisters to maintain, without money, without friends, without a profession, and without sight. Under such an accumulation of griefs, most minds would have sunk ; but with him it was otherwise. At all times proud and resolute, his spirit rose at once into what might be called a fierceness of inde- pendence. He resolved within himself to be in- debted for support to no hand but his own. His classical education, which, from his feeble vision, had been necessarily imperfect, he now determined to complete, and immediately entered upon the 46 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. apparently hopeless task, with a view to fit him- self as a teacher of youth. He instructed his sisters in the pronunciation of Greek and Latin, and employed one or other constantly in the task of reading aloud to him the classics usually taught in the schools. A naturally faithful memory, spurred on by such strong excitement, performed its oft-repeated miracles ; and in a space of time incredibly short, he became master of their con- tents, even to the minutest points of critical reading. On a certain occasion, a dispute having arisen between Mr. Nelson and the classical pro- fessor of the college, as to the construction of a passage in Virgil, from which his students were reading, the professor appealed to the circumstance of a comma in the sentence, as conclusive of the question. " True," said Mr. Nelson coloring, with strong emotion ; " but permit me to observe," added he, turning his sightless eyeballs towards the book which he held in his hand, " that in my Heyne edition it is a colon, and not a comma." He soon established a school for classical education. The boldness and novelty of the attempt attracted gen- eral attention ; the lofty confidence he displayed in himself, excited respect ; and soon his untiring as- siduity, his real knowledge, and a burning zeal, which, knowing no bounds in his devotion to his scholars, awakened somewhat of a corresponding INTRODUCTORY E3SAT. 47 spirit in their minds, completed the conquest. His reputation spread daily, scholars flocked to him in crowds, and in a few years he found himself in the enjoyment of an income superior to that of any college patronage in the United States. Fer- nandez Navarete, a distinguished Spanish painter, was seized with an illness, when only two years old, which left him deaf and dumb for life. Yet, in this state, he displayed, from his infancy, the strongest passion for drawing, covering the walls of the apartments with pictures of all sorts of ob- jects, performed with charcoal ; and having after- wards studied under Titian, he became eventually one of the greatest artists of his age. He could both read and write, and even possessed consider- able learning. Nicholas Saunderson, one of the illustrious men who has filled the chair of Lucasian professor of mathematics at Cambridge, England, when only two years old, was deprived by small- pox, not only of his sight but of his eyes themselves, which were destroyed by abscess. He was sent to the school at Penniston, early in life, and soon distinguished himself by his proficiency in Greek and Latin. He acquired so great a familiarity with the Greek language, as to be in the habit of having the works written in it read to him, and following the meaning of the author as if the composition had been in English ; while he showed 48 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. his perfect mastery over the Latin, on many oc- casions, in the course of his life, both by dictating and speaking it with the utmost fluency and com- mand of expression. In 1728, he was created Doctor of Laws, on a visit of George II. to the university of Cambridge, on which occasion he de- livered a Latin oration of distinguished eloquence. He published an able and well-known treatise on algebra, a work on fluxions, and a Latin commen- tary on Sir Isaac Newton's Principia. His senses of hearing and touch were carried to almost in- credible perfection. The celebrated mathema- tician, Euler, was struck with blindness in his fifty-ninth year, his sight having fallen a sacrifice to his indefatigable application. He had literally written and calculated himself blind. Yet, after this calamity, he continued to calculate and to dic- tate books, at least, if not to write them, as actively as ever. His Elements of Algebra, a work which has been translated into every language of Europe, was dictated by him when "blind, to an amanuensis. He published twenty-nine volumes quarto, in the Latin language alone. The mere catalogue of his published works extends to fifty printed pages. At his death, he left about a hundred memoirs ready for the press. Have you wasted the early part of life, and are you now compelled to commence, if at all, a course INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 49 of self-education in the later period of youth, or in middle age? Let not this circumstance, in the least degree, weaken your resolution. Numerous are the instances in which this difficulty has been overcome. Cato, the celebrated Roman censor, showed his force of character very strikingly, by learning the Greek language in his old age. At that time, the study of this tongue was very rare at Rome ; and the circumstance renders the deter- mination of Cato, and his success, the more re- markable. It was the first foreign language, also, which he had acquired. Alfred the Great, of England, had reached his twelfth year before he had even learned his alphabet. An interesting anecdote is told of the occasion on which he was first prompted to apply himself to books. His mother, it seems, had shown him and his brothers a small volume, iUuminated or adorned in different places with colored letters, and such other embel- lishments as was then the fashion. Seeing it ex- cite the admiration of the children, she promised that she would give it to him who would first learn to read it. Alfred, though the youngest, was the only one who had the spirit to attempt to gain the prize on such conditions, at least it was he who actually won it ; for he immediately, as we are told, went and procured a teacher for him- self, and in a very short time was able to claim 5 50 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. the promised reward. When he came to the throne, notwithstanding all his public duties and cares, and a tormenting disease, which scarcely ever left him a moment of rest, it was his custom, day and night, to employ his whole leisure time, either in reading books himself, or in hearing them read by others. He, however, reached his thirty-ninth year before he began to attempt translating anything from the Latin tongue. The French dramatist, Moliere, could only read and write very indifferently when he was fourteen years of age. Dr. Carter, the father of the cele- brated Miss Carter, had been originally intended for a grazier, and did not begin his studies till the age of nineteen or twenty. He eventually, how- ever, became a distinguished scholar ; and gave his daughters a learned education. Joannes Pierius Valerianus was fifteen years old before he began to learn to read ; his parents, indeed, having been so poor, that he was obliged to commence life as a domestic servant. He became one of the most elegant scholars of his time. Van den Vondel, an honored name in Dutch poetry, and the author of works which fill nine quarto volumes, did not com- mence learning Latin till his twenty-sixth year, and Greek not till some years afterwards. Like many others of the literati of Holland, he began life as a commercial man, and originally kept a hosier's INTRODUCTORY ESSAT. 51 shop at Amsterdam ; but he gave up the business to his wife, when he commenced his career as an author. He died in extreme old age, after having occupied, during a great part of his life, the very highest place in the literature of his country. John Ogilby, the well known translator of Homer, was originally a dancing-master. He had apprenticed himself to that profession, on finding himself reduced to depend on his own re- sources, in consequence of the imprisonment of his father for debt. Having been prospered in this pursuit, he was very soon able to release his father, much to his credit, with the first money which he procured. When he had fairly estab- lished himself in Dublin, the rebellion of 1641 commenced, and not only swept away all his little property, but repeatedly put even his life in jeop- ardy. He at last found his way back to London, in a state of complete destitution ; notwithstanding he had never received any regular education, he had before this made a few attempts at verse- making, and in his extremity he bethought him of turning his talent in this way to some account. He immediately commenced his studies, which he was enabled to pursue chiefly through the liberal assistance of some members of the university of Cambridge ; and although then considerably above forty years of age, he made such progress in Latin, 52 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. that he was soon considered able to undertake a poetical translation of Virgil. This work make its appearance in the year 1650. A second edition of it was printed a few years afterwards, with great pomp of typography and embellishments. Such was its success, that the industrious transla- tor actually proceeded, although now in his fifty- fourth year, to commence the study of Greek, in order that he might match his version of the iEneid by others of the Iliad and Odyssey. In due time both appeared. In 1666, he was left, by the great fire of London, once more entirely destitute. With unconquerable courage and per- severance, however, he rebuilt his house and re- established his printing-press. He was now ap- pointed cosmographer and geographical printer to Charles II. He died at the age of seventy-six years. In the United States, there have been numerous instances of great success in professional pursuits, which the individuals in question did not assume till a very late period in life. An eminent clergy- man in a New England city, toiled in one of the most laborious mechanical professions, till he was far in advance of that age when study is gener- ally commenced. He then pursued a regular academical and theological education, almost wholly dependent on his own resources. A gen- INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 53 tleman, who is now at the head of one of the most flourishing of the American colleges, was employed on a farm as a hired laborer, till he was beyond that period when most students have completed their collegiate education. The sud- den rise of the waters of a neighboring river, which prevented him from proceeding to com- mence his labors on another farm, was the event, in the providence of God, which determined him to begin his preparation for college. A number of additional striking instances will be found in the course of this volume. A great amount of mind, and of usefulness, is undoubtedly wasted, by the belief that little can be accomplished, if an individual has suffered the first thirty years of his life to pass without improvement. Is it not an erroneous idea, that a man has reached the meridian of his usefulness, and the maturity of his powers, at the age of thirty-five or forty years ? What necessity exists for prescribing a limit to the onward progress of the mind ? Why set up a bound at a particular time of life more than at another time ? Is there not a large num- ber of men, in this country, whose history would prove the contrary doctrine, — who have actually exhibited more vigor of intellect at fifty years of age, than at forty ? There are instances among the venerable dead, where the imagination even 5* 54 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. gathered fresh power to the close of a long life. That a majority of facts show that maturity of intellect is attained at the age of thirty-five years, is unquestionably owing, in some degree at least, to the influence of the opinion itself. It has operated as a discouragement to effort. Once more — are you called to struggle with the difficulties arising from obscure parentage and depressing poverty ? Here multitudes have ob- tained most honorable triumphs, and have appa- rently risen in the scale of honor and usefulness in proportion to the depth of the penury or degra- dation of their origin. Laplace, a celebrated French mathematician and astronomer, and whom Dr. Brewster supposes posterity will rank next after Sir Isaac Newton, was the son of a farmer in Normandy. The American translator of his great work, the Mecanique Celeste, and who has added a commentary in which the amount of matter is much greater than in the original work, while the calculations are so happily elucidated, that a^student moderately versed in mathematics, may follow the great astronomer with pleasure to his beautiful results — is entirely a self taught man. A distinguished benefactor of one of our principal theological seminaries, has risen from extreme poverty to the possession of great wealth and respectability. The same was the fact also INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 55 with a former lieutenant governor of Massachu- setts, who, in the days of his highest prosperity, had none of that pride of fortune and haughti- ness of demeanor, which are sometimes conse- quent upon the unexpected acquisition of a large estate. Several of the most useful and respected citizens of the capital of New England, in the early part of their lives, were entirely destitute of all resources, except the strength of their own unconquerable resolution, and the favor of Provi- dence. The celebrated German metaphysical philosopher, Kant, was the son of a harness ma- ker, who lived in the suburbs of his native city, Konigsberg. He had hardly arrived at the age of manhood before he lost both his parents, who had never been able to afford him much pecuniary assistance. His own industry and economy, to- gether with some assistance which he received from his relatives, enabled him to continue his studies. His application was uncommonly great, and the results of it, numerous and extraordinary. He published a work on the Universal Natural History and Theory of the Heavens, or an Essay on the Constitution and Mechanical System of the whole Globe, according to the Newtonian system. In this treatise he anticipated several of the discoveries of the astronomer Herschel. His principal metaphysical work, the "Critique of 56 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Pure Reason," produced an astonishing sensation through all Germany. He was appointed, in 1778, professor of logic and metaphysics, in the university of Konigsberg. James Logan, the friend of William Penn, and for some time chief justice and governor of Pennsylvania, was early in life apprenticed to a linen-draper. Pre- viously to his thirteenth year, he had studied the Latin, Greek and Hebrew languages. In the sixteenth year of his age, having happily met with a small book on mathematics, he made him- self master of it, without any manner of instruc- tion. Having, also, further improved himself in Greek and Hebrew, he acquired the French, Italian and Spanish languages. Like William Penn, he was a warm and efficient friend of the Indians. He was a man of uncommon wisdom, moderation, prudence, of unblemished morals, and inflexible integrity. LomonosofF, the father of Russian literature, was descended from a poor family in the government of Archangel. His . father was a fisherman, whom he assisted in his labors for the support of his family. In Winter, a clergyman taught him to read. A poetical spirit and a love of knowledge were awakened in the boy, by the singing of the psalms at church, and the reading of the Bible. Without having re- ceived any instruction, he conceived the plan of INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 57 celebrating the wonders of creation, and the great deeds of Peter I., in songs similar to those of David. He died in 1765. The Russian academy- have published his works in six volumes, quarto. He wrote several treatises on grammar, history, mineralogy and chemistry, besides some of the best poetry in the language. Winckelman, one of the most distinguished writers on classic an- tiquitie and the fine arts, which modern times have produced, was the son of a shoemaker. His father, after vainly endeavoring, for some time, at the expense of many sacrifices, to give him a learned education, was at last obliged, from age and ill health, to retire to a hospital, where he was, in his turn, supported for several years in part by the labors of his son, who, aided by the kindness of the professors, continued to keep himself at college, chiefly by teaching some of his younger and less advanced fellow students. Bartholomew Arnigio, an Italian poet, of consid- erable eminence, who lived in the sixteenth cen- tury, followed his father's trade of a blacksmith, till he was eighteen years old, when he began, of his own accord, to apply to his studies ; and by availing himself of the aid sometimes of one friend and sometimes of another, prepared him- self at last for entering the university of Padua. Examples of this description it is unnecessary 58 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. to multiply. The records of all the learned pro- fessions will show many instances admirably in point. Every legislative hall would furnish marked and illustrious specimens. The last de- gree of penury, the most abject occupations of life, have not presented an insurmountable obstacle to improvement. The aspiring mind will pass over or break down every impediment. Prisons cannot chain it. Dungeons cannot immure it. Racking pains cannot palsy its energy. Opposi- tion will only nurture its powers. The Pilgrim's Progress was written by a tinker in prison ; the Saint's Rest, on a bed of excruciating pain; the Apology for the Freedom of the Press, and the Sermons upon Modern Infidelity, in the inter- vals of one of the fiercest diseases which ever preys upon man. Pascal, that sublime and uni- versal genius, equally at home in the most accu- rate analysis and in the widest generalization, was visited with an inexorable malady during the greater part of his life. Dr. Watts, the sweet psalmist of ages yet to come, was as weak in body, as he was clear and powerful in intellect. On some occasions, it would seem, that the mind is conscious of its own independence, and asserts its distinct and unfettered existence, amidst the severest ills which can befall its frail and dying companion. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 59 It is worthy of deep and careful consideration, whether our country does not demand a new and higher order of intellect, and whether the class, whose character I have been considering, cannot furnish a vast amount of materials. It is not piety alone which is needed, nor strength of body, nor vigor of mind, nor firmness of character, nor purity of taste ; but all these united. Ought not this subject to awaken the attention of our most philanthropic and gifted minds ? Ought not social libraries to be collected with this main purpose — to furnish stimulant to call forth all possible native talents and hidden energies ? Should not the lyceum lay hold of this subject in every village in our land ? Ought not the systems of discipline and instruction at all our colleges, to be framed, and to be administered, with a distinct and de- clared regard to the benefits which self-taught genius, with the superadded effects of thorough instruction, can confer upon the millions of our country ? Every parent, and every instructer, should employ special means to bring his children or his pupils into such circumstances, and place in their way such books and other means, as will develop the original tendencies of their minds, and lead them into the path of high attainment and usefulness. Every educated man is under great responsibilities to bring into the light and to INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. cherish all the talent which may be concealed in his neighborhood. Genius lies buried on our mountains and in our valleys. Vast treasures of thought, of noble feeling, of pure and generous aspirations, and of moral and religious worth, exist unknown — are never called forth to adorn human nature, and to bless and save mankind. Shall not an effort now be made to bring into ac- tion all the available intellect and piety in the country ? In the lapse of a few years, more than one hundred millions of human beings, on this continent, will speak the English language. To provide intellectual and moral sustenance for such an amazing population, requires an enlargement of thought and an expansiveness of philanthropy, such as has never yet been exhibited on our earth. One division of this country is as large as that realm over which Augustus Cresar swayed his sceptre, and which Hannibal tried in vain to con- quer. What immense tides of immortal life are to sweep over this country, into the gulf of eter- nity. We are called to think and to act on a grander scale than ever fell to the lot of man. This nation needs what was conferred on Solo- mon, " wisdom and understanding exceeding much, and largeness of heart, even as the sand that is on the sea-shore." How pitiable and how deplor- able are all the contests between political parties, INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 61 and benevolent societies, and religious denomina- tions. While thus contending with one another, we are losing forever the favorable moment for effort ; and we are preparing to have heaped upon our heads the curses of an unnumbered pos- terity. We are the representatives of millions. We are acting for masses of human beings. To live simply as individuals, or a3 insulated beings, is a great error, and a serious injustice to our pos- terity. We must take our stand on fundamental principles. We must set those great wheels in motion, which, in their revolution, are to spread light, and life, and joy through the land. While we place our whole dependence on the goodness and the grace of the Ruler of the universe, we must act as those who recollect their origin at the Ply- mouth rock and from Saxon ancestry, and who are conscious of the high destiny to which Provi- dence calls them. Let us come up to our great and most interest- ing work. Let us lift our eyes on the fields, boundless in extent, and white already to the har- vest. Here in this age, here in this new world, let the tide of ignorance be stayed ; let the great mass of American sentiment be thoroughly puri- fied ; let human nature assume its renovated form ; let the flame of human intellect rise, and sweetly mingle with the source of all mental light 6 02 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. and beauty ; let our character and labors be such, that we shall send forward to the most distant posterity, a strong and steady light. We must take no middle ground. We must bring to the great work of illuminating this country and of blessing mankind, every capability of mind and of heart, which we possess — every possibility of the power which God has given to us. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. ROGER SHERMAN. " The self-taught Sherman urged his reasons clear." Humphrey's Poems. Roger Sherman was born at Newton, Mass., April 19, 1721. His great-grandfather, Captain John Sherman, came from Dedham, England, to Watertown, Massachusetts, about the year 1635. His grandfather, William Sherman, was a farmer, in moderate circumstances. In 1723, the family removed from Newton to Stoughton. Of the child- hood and early youth of Sherman, little is known. He received no other education than the ordinary country schools in Massachusetts at that time afforded. He was neither assisted by a public education nor by private tuition. All the valu- able attainments which he exhibited in his future career, were the result of his own vigorous efforts. By his ardent thirst for knowledge, and his inde- fatigable industry, he attained a very commendable acquaintance with general science, the system of logic, geography, mathematics, the general princi- ples of history, philosophy, theology, and particu- larly law and politics. He was early apprenticed to a shoemaker, and he continued to pursue that occupation for some time after he wa3 twenty-two 04 ROGER SHERMAN. years of age. It is recorded of him, that he was accustomed to sit at his work with a book before him, devoting to study every moment that his eyes could be spared from the occupation in which he was engaged. During the Revolutionary War, Mr. Sherman was placed on a Committee of Con- gress, to examine certain army accounts, among which was a contract for the supply of shoes. He informed the Committee that the public had been defrauded, and that the charges were exorbitant, which he proved by specifying the cost of the leather and other materials, and of the workman- ship. The minuteness with which this was done, exciting some surprise, he informed the Committee that he was by trade a shoemaker, and knew the value of every article. He was sometimes ac- cused, but without justice, of being vain of the obscurity of his origin. From the distinguished eminence which he reached, he probably contem- plated with satisfaction, that force of mind and that, industry, which enabled him to overcome all the obstacles which encompassed his path. For the gratification arising from such a contemplation, no one will be disposed to censure him. When he was nineteen years of age, his father died. His eldest brother having previously re- moved to New Milford, Connecticut, the principal charge of the family devolved on him. At this early period of life, the care of a mother, who lived to a great age, and the education of a nu- merous family of brothers and sisters, brought into grateful exercise his warm, filial and fraternal affections. The assistance subsequently afforded by him to two of his younger brothers, enabled them to obtain the inestimable advantages of a ROGER SHERMAN. C5 public education. He continued to reside at Stoughton about three years after the death of his father, principally employed in the cultivation of the farm, and in otherwise providing for the main- tenance of the family. Before he was twenty -one, he made a public profession of religion. He thus laid the foundation of his character in piety. That unbending integrity which has almost made his name synonymous with virtue itself, was acquired in the school of Christ and his apostles. Mr. Sherman used to remark to his family, that before he had attained the age of twenty-one years, he had learned to control and govern his passions. His success in these efforts he attributed, in a con- siderable degree, to Dr. Watts' excellent treatise on this subject. His passions were naturally strong, but he had brought them under subjection to such a degree, that he appeared to be habitu- ally calm and sedate, mild and agreeable. All his actions seem to have been preceded by a rigorous self-examination, and the answering of the secret interrogatories. What is right? — What course ought I to pursue? He never propounded to himself the questions, Will it be popular ? — How will it affect my interest ? Hence his reputation for integrity was never questioned. In 1743, he removed with the family to New Milford, a town near New Haven, Connecticut. He performed the journey on foot, taking care to have his shoemaker's tools also transported. He there commenced business as a country merchant, and opened a store in conjunction with his elder brother, which he continued till after his admission to the bar, in 1754. He discontinued his trade as a shoemaker at the time this connection was formed. 6* ROGER SHERMAN. In 1745, he was appointed surveyor of lands for the county in which he resided. Astronomical cal- culations of as early date as 1748, have been dis- covered among his papers. They were made by him for an almanac, then published in New York, and which he continued to supply for several suc- cessive years. About this time, a providential circumstance led him to aspire after a higher station in life. He was requested by a friend to seek for him legal advice in a neighboring town. To prevent embarrass- ment and secure the accurate representation of the case, he committed it to paper as well as he could before he left home. In stating the facts, the lawyer observed that Mr. Sherman frequently recurred to a manuscript which he held in his hand. As it was necessary to make an application by way of petition, to the proper tribunal, he de- sired the paper to be left in his hands, provided it contained a statement of the case from which a petition might be framed. Mr. Sherman reluc- tantly consented, telling him that it was merely a memorandum drawn up by himself for his own convenience. The lawyer, after reading it, re- marked, with an expression of surprise, that, with a few alterations in form, it was equal to any pe- tition which he could have prepared himself, and that no other was requisite. Having then made some inquiries relative to Mr. Sherman's situation and prospects in life, he advised him to devote his attention to the study of the law. But his cir- cumstances and duties did not permit him at once to follow this counsel. The numerous family, which the recent death of his father had made, in a considerable degree, dependent on him for sup- ROGER SIIERMAN. G7 port and education, required his constant exertions in other employments. But the intimation which he there received, that his mind was fitted for higher pursuits, no doubt induced him at that early period of life, to devote his leisure moments to those studies which led him to honor and distin- guished usefulness. At the age of twenty-eight years, he was married to Miss Elizabeth Hartwell, of Stoughton, Mass., by whom he had seven children. She died in October, 17 GO. Two of his children died in New Milford, and two after his removal to New Haven. In 1763, he was married to Miss Rebecca Pres- cott, of Danvers, Mass., by whom he had eight children. In May, 1759, he was appointed one of the justices of the court of common pleas for the county. He was for many years the treasurer of Yale college. From that institution he receiv- ed the honorary degree of Master of Arts. After success in some measure had crowned his efforts, he still continued to apply himself to his studies with the most unremitted diligence. Encourage- ment, instead of elating him, only prompted him to greater effort. In the profession which he had chosen, perhaps more than in any other, men are compelled to rely on their own resources. Such is the competition, so constant is the collision of various minds, that ignorance and incompetency will surely be detected and exposed. In 1766, he was appointed a judge of the su- perior court of Connecticut. In the same year, he was chosen an assistant or member of the upper house of the legislature. The first office he sustained for twenty-three years, the last for 68 ROGER SHERMAN. nineteen years; after which a law was enacted rendering the two offices incompatible, and he chose to continue in the office of judge. It is uniformly acknowledged by those who witnessed his conduct and abilities on the bench, that he discovered in the application of the principles of law and the rules of evidence to the cases before him, the same sagacity that distinguished him as a legislator. His legal opinions were received with great deference by the profession, and their correctness was almost universally acknowledged. During the last four years in which he was judge, the late Chief-Justice Ellsworth was an associate judge of the same court ; and from the period of his appointment, in 1785, until the death of Mr. Sherman, a close intimacy subsisted between them. The elder president Adams remarks that, u It is praise enough to say that Mr. Ellsworth told me that he had made Mr. Sherman his model in his youth. Indeed, I never knew two men more alike, except that the chief-justice had the advan- tage of a liberal education, and somewhat more extensive reading." The period of our Revolutionary struggle now drew near. Roger Sherman, as it might have been expected, was one of the few who, from the commencement of hostilities, foresaw what would be the probable issue. He engaged in the defence of our liberties with the deliberate firmness of an experienced statesman, conscious of the magnitude of the undertaking, and sagacious in devising the means for successful opposition. In August, 1774, Mr. Sherman, in conjunction with Joseph Trumbull, Eliphalet Dyer and Silas Deane, was nominated delegate to the general ROGER SHERMAN. 69 congress of the colonies. lie was present at the opening of the first congress. He continued a member of this body for the long period of nineteen years, till his death, in 1703, whenever the law re- quiring a rotation in office admitted it. In his new post of duty he soon acquired distinguished repu- tation. Others were more admired for popular eloquence, but in that assembly of great men there was no one whose judgment was more respected, or whose opinions were more influential. His vener- able appearance, his republican simplicity, the in- flexibility of his principles and the decisive weight of his character, commanded universal homage. In the fatiguing and very arduous business of com- mittees, he was indefatigable. He was always thorough in his investigations, and all his pro- ceedings were marked by system. Among the principal committees of which Mr. Sherman was a member, were those to prepare instructions for the army in Canada ; to establish regulations in regard to the trade of the United Colonies; to regulate the currency of the country ; to furnish supplies for the army ; to devise ways and means for providing ten millions of dollars for the ex- penses of the current year ; to concert a plan of military operations for the campaign of 1776; to prepare and digest a form of confederation ; and to repair to head-quarters at New York, and examine into the state of the army. On the 11th of June, 1776, in conjunction with John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Frank- lin and Robert R. Livingston, Mr. Sherman was appointed on the committee to prepare the Dec- laration of Independence. The committee was elected by ballot. The Declaration, as it is well 70 ROGER SHERMAN. known, was written by Jefferson. What amount of influence was exerted by Sherman, in carrying the measure through the congress, is not certainly known. The records of the proceedings of that illustrious assembly are very imperfect. John Adams says of him, that he was " one of the soundest and strongest pillars of the Revolution." While he was performing the most indefatigable labors in congress, he devoted unremitting atten- tion to duties at home. During the War, he was a member of the governor's council of safety. In 178 i, he was elected mayor of New Haven, an office which he continued to hold during the remainder of his life. About the close of the War, the legislature of Connecticut assigned to a committee of two, the arduous service of revising the laws of the State. Mr. Sherman was one of this committee. In 1787, he was appointed, in conjunction with Dr. Samuel Johnson and Mr. Ellsworth, a delegate to the general convention to form the constitution of the United States. Among his manuscripts a paper has been found, containing a series of propositions, prepared by him for the amendment of the old articles of con- federation, the greater part of which are incor- porated, in substance, in the new constitution. In the debates in that convention, Mr. Sherman bore a conspicuous part. In a letter to Gen. Floyd, soon after, he says, " Perhaps a better constitution could not be made upon mere speculation. If, upon experience, it should be found to be deficient, it provides an easy and peaceable mode of making amendments. But, if the constitution should be adopted, and the several States choose some of their wisest and best men, from time to time, to ROGER SHERMAN. 71 administer the government, I believe it will not want any amendment. 1 hope that kind Provi- dence, which guarded these States through a dan- gerous and distressing war, to peace and liberty, will still watch over them, and guide them in the way of safety." His exertions in procuring the ratification of the constitution in Connecticut, were conspicuous and successful. He published a series of papers, over the signature of " Citizen," which, Mr. Ellsworth says, materially influenced the public mind in favor of its adoption. After the ratification of the Constitution, he was immediately elected a repre- sentative of the State in congress. Though ap- proaching the seventieth year of his age, he yet took a prominent part in the great topics of dis- cussion which came before congress. On the 11th of February, 1790, the Quakers presented an address to the house on the subject of the " licentious wickedness of the African trade for slaves." A long and violent debate occured on the propriety of its being referred to a committee. Some of the southern members opposed it with great vehemence and acrimony. Mr. Scott, of Pennsylvania, replied, in an eloquent appeal to the justice and humanity of the house. Mr. Sherman, perceiving that opposition would merely serve to inflame the already highly excited feelings of members, with his usual calmness, remarked that it was probable the committee would understand their business, and they might, perhaps, bring in such a report as would be satisfactory to gentle- men on both sides of the house. Mr. Sherman and his colleagues were triumphant ; forty-three members voting in favor of the commitment of the memorial, and eleven in opposition. ROGER SHERMAN. Mr. Sherman uniformly opposed the amend- ments to the constitution which were at various time submitted to the house. " I do not suppose," said he, " the constitution to be perfect, nor do I imagine, if congress and all the legislatures on the continent were to revise it, that their labors would perfect it." He maintained that the more important objects of government ought first to he attended to ; that the executive portion of it needed organization, as well as the business of the revenue and judiciary. In 1791, a vacancy having occurred in the senate of the United States, he was elected to fill that elevated station. On the 23d of July, 1793, this great and ex- cellent man was gathered to his fathers, in the seventy-third year of his age. He died in full possession of all his powers, both of mind and of body. The most interesting lesson which the life of Mr. Sherman teaches us, is the paramount im- portance of religious principle. His undeviating political integrity was not the result of mere pat- riotism, or philanthropy. He revolved in a high- er orbit. The volume which he consulted more than any other was the Bible. It was his custom to purchase a copy of the scriptures at the com- mencement of every session of congress, to peruse it daily, and to present it to one of his children on his return. To his familiar acquaintance with this blessed book, much of that extraordinary sagacity which he uniformly exhibited, is to be attributed. The second President Edwards used to call him his " great and good friend, senator Sherman," and acknowledged, that, in the general ROGER SHERMAN. 7.3 course of a long and intimate acquaintance, lie was materially assisted by his observations on the principal subjects of doctrinal and practical divin- ity. " He was not ashamed," says Dr. Edwards, " to befriend religion, to appear openly on the Lord's side, or to avow and defend the peculiar doctrines of grace. lie was exemplary in attend- ing all the institutions of the gospel, in the prac- tice of virtue in general, and in showing himself friendly to all good men. With all his elevation and all his honors, he was not at all lifted up, but appeared perfectly unmoved. " ; That he was generous and ready to commu- nicate, I can testify from my own experience. He was ready to bear his part of the expense of those designs, public and private, which he es- teemed useful ; and he was given to hospitality." What an example is here presented for the youth- ful lawyer and statesman ! Would he rise to the most distinguished usefulness, would he bequeath a character and an influence to posterity u above all Greek or Roman fame," let him, like Roger Sherman, lay the foundations in the fear of God, and in obedience to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Another most important practical lesson which we derive from the life of Mr. Sherman, is the the value of habits of study and meditation. He was not only distinguished for integrity, but for accurate knowledge of history and of human nature — the combined fruit of reading and re- flection. " He was capable of deep and long investigation. While others, weary of a short attention to business, were relaxing themselves in thoughtless inattention, or dissipation, he was em- ployed in prosecuting the same business, either 7 74 ROGER SHERMAN. by revolving it in his mind and ripening his own thoughts upon it, or in conferring with others." While laboriously engaged in the public duties of his station, he had, every day, a season for private study and meditation. The testimonials to his extraordinary worth have been singularly marked and unanimous. Among his correspondents were Drs. Johnson, (of Stratford,) Edwards, Hopkins, Trumbull, Presidents Dickinson and Witherspoon. Fisher Ames was accustomed to express his opinion by saying, " That if he happened to be out of his seat [in congress] when a subject was discussed, and came in when the question was about to be taken, he always felt safe in voting as Mr. Sher- man did, for he always voted right." Dr. D wight, while instructing the senior class at Yale college, observed, that Mr. Sherman was remarkable for not speaking in debate without suggesting some- thing new and important. Washington uniformly treated Mr. Sherman with great respect and at- tention. Mr. Macon, a distinguished senator of the United States, once remarked to the Hon. William Reed, of Marblehead, that " Roger Sher- man had more common sense than any man he ever knew." The late Rev. Dr. Spring, of Newburyport, was returning from the South, while congress was in session at Philadelphia. Mr. Jefferson acompanied him to the hall, and designated several distinguished members of that body ; in the course of this polite attention, he pointed in a certain direction, and exclaimed, of the country, the patron of merit and founder of many excellent institutions. In 1801, he was made president of the high consistory, a place never before given to a person not of the nobility. Herder was subsequently made a nobleman by the elector of Bavaria. He says himself that he accepted the rank for the sake of his children. Herder died, on the 18th of December, 1803. Germany is deeply indebted to him for his valua- ble works in almost every branch of literature, and few authors have had a greater influence upon the public taste in that country. His works were published in forty-five octavo volumes, in 1806. Another edition is now publishing in sixty small volumes. As a theologian, Herder contributed to a better understanding of the historical and antiquarian parts of the Old Testament. "In early years," says Herder, " when the fields of knowledge lay before me, with all the glow of a morning sun, from which the meridian sun of life takes away so much of the charm, the idea often recurred to my mind, whether, like other great subjects of thought, each of which has its philoso- phy and science, that subject also, which lies nearest to our hearts — the history of mankind, viewed as a whole — might not also have its philosophy and science. Every thing reminded me of this idea ; metaphysics and morals, natural philosophy and natural history lastly, and most powerfully, religion." This is the key to Herder's JOHN GODFREY VON HERDER. 209 life. The object of his investigations was to find the point from which he might calmly survey every thing, and see how all things converge. " It is," says Frederic Schlegel, " the very per- ception and feeling of the poetical, in the character of natural legends, which forms the most distin- guishing feature in the genius of Herder. He has an energy of fancy by which he is enabled to transport himself into the spirit and poetry of every age and people. The poetry of the He- brews was that which most delighted him. He may be called the mythologist of German litera- ture, on account of this gift, this universal feeling of the spirit of antiquity. His power of entering into all the shapes and manifestations of fancy, implies in himself a very high degree of imagina- tion. His mind seems to have been cast in so universal a mould, that he might have attained to equal eminence, either as a poet or philosopher." Notwithstanding his genius, Herder had great difficulties to surmount ; want of early education and encouragement, poverty, and a serious and lasting disease of the eyes. He was a most laborious and indefatigable student. He did not attempt to arrive at truth by metaphysical specu- lation, but by observation, by the constant study of nature and the mind, in all its works, in the arts, law, language, religion, medicine, poetry, &c. In 1819, the grand duke of Weimar ordered a tablet of cast iron »to be placed on his grave, with the inscription, Licht, Liebe Leben. Light, Love, Life. 18* GIOVANNI BATTISTA BELZONI. This enterprising traveller was born at Padua, Italy, in 1778, where his father was a barber. The family, however, had belonged originally to Rome ; and it is related that Belzoni, when only thirteen years of age, betrayed his disposition for travelling, by setting out one day along with his younger brother to make his way to that city, which lie had long been haunted with a passionate desire to see, from hearing his parents so often speak of it. The failing strength and courage of his brother, however, forced him to relinquish this expedition, after they had proceeded as far as the Apennines ; and he returned to assist his father once more in his shop, as he had already, for some time, been doing. But when he was three years older, nothing could detain him any longer in his native place ; and he again took the road to Rome, which lie now actually reached. It is said that on his first arrival in this capital, he applied him- self to the acquirement of a knowledge of the art of constructing machines for the conveyance and raising of water, with the view probably of ob- taining a livelihood by the exhibition of curious or amusing experiments in that department of physics. It is certain, however, that he eventu- ally adopted the profession of a monk. The arrival of Bonaparte in Italy, in 1800, brought him the opportunity, which he embraced, of throwing off his monastic habit ; being, by this GIOVANNI BATTISTA BELZONI. 211 time, heartily tired of the idleness and obscurity to which it consigned him. He then pursued, for some time, a wandering life, having, in the first instance, returned to his native town, and then proceeded in quest of employment to Holland, from whence, in about a year afterwards, he came back to Italy. By this time he had attained so uncommon a height, with strength proportioned to it, that he was an object of wonder wherever he was seen. It was probably with the expecta- tion of being able to turn these personal advan- tages to account, that he determined, in 1803, to go over to England. On arriving there, accord- ingly, he first attempted to gain a maintenance by walking over the country exhibiting hydraulic experiments, and feats of muscular strength ; and accompanied by his wife, an Englishwoman whom he had married soon after his arrival, he visited with this object all the principal towns both of Great Britain and Ireland, lie continued for about nine years in England. In 1812, he sailed with his wife for Lisbon. After spending some time in that city, he proceeded to Madrid, where he attracted considerable attention by his perform- ances. From Spain he went to Malta ; and here, it is supposed, the idea first suggested itself to him of passing over to Egypt, as others of his countrymen had already done, and offering his services to the Pacha, the active and enterprising Mohammed Ali. Accordingly, carrying with him a recommendation from a Maltese agent of the Pacha's, he proceeded, still accompanied by his wife, to Cairo. On presenting himself to Ali, he was immediately engaged, on the strength of his professed skill in hydraulics, to construct a 212 GIOVANNI BATTISTA BELZONI. machine for watering some pleasure gardens at Soubra, on the Nile. This undertaking, it is said, he accomplished to the Pacha's satisfaction ; but an accident having occurred to one of the persons looking on, at the first trial of the machine, the Turkish superstition, under the notion that what had happened was a bad omen, would not suffer the use of it to be continued. Belzoni was once more thrown on his own resources, probably as much at a loss as ever, what course to adopt. At this time, the late Mr. Salt, the learned orientalist, was English Consul in Egypt, and embracing the opportunity which his situation afforded him, was actively employed in investi- gating and making collections of the remains of antiquity with which that country abounded. For this purpose he kept several agents in his employ- ment, whose business it was to make researches, in all directions, after interesting objects of this description. To Mr. Salt, Belzoni now offered his services in this capacity, and he was imme- diately employed by that gentleman, in an affair of considerable difficulty : the removing and transporting to Alexandria of the colossal granite bust of Memnon, which lay buried in the sands near Thebes. The manner in which Belzoni accomplished this, his first enterprise in his new line of pursuit, at once established his character for energy and intelligence. Dressing himself as a Turk, he proceeded to the spot, and there half persuaded and half terrified the peasantry into giving him the requisite assistance in excavating and embarking the statue, till he had at last the satisfaction of seeing it safely deposited in the boat intended for its conveyance down the Nile. GIOVANNI BATTISTA BELZOXI. 213 It reached England, and was placed in the British Museum. Belzoni had now found his proper sphere, and henceforward his whole soul was engaged in the work of exploring the wonderful country in which he was, in search of the monuments of its ancient arts and greatness. In this occupation he was constantly employed, sometimes in the service of Mr. Salt, and sometimes on his own account. The energy and perseverance of character which he exhibited, were truly astonishing. In despite of innumerable obstacles, partly of a physical nature, and partly arising from the opposition of the natives, he at last succeeded in penetrating into the interior of the temple of Ihamboul, in Upper Egypt, which was so enveloped in sand, that only its summit was visible. On returning from this expedition, he next undertook a journey to the Valley of Bebanel Malonk, beyond Thebes, where, from a slight inspection on a former occa- sion of the rocky sides of the hills, he had been led to suspect that many tombs of the old inhab- itants would be found concealed in them. For some time he searched in vain in all directions for any indication of what he had expected to find, till at last his attention was turned to a small fissure in the rock, which presented to his experi- enced eye something like the traces of human labor. He put forward his hand to examine it, when the stones, on his touching them, tumbled down, and discovered to him the entrance to a long passage, having its sides ornamented with sculpture and paintings. He at once entered the cavern, proceeded forward, and. after overleaping several obstacles, found himself in a sepulchral 214 GIOVANNI BATTISTA BELZONI. chamber, in the centre of which stood an alabaster sarcophagus, covered with sculptures. He after- wards examined this sarcophagus, and with immense labor, took exact copies of the drawings, consisting of nearly a thousand figures, and the hierogyphic inscriptions, amounting to more than five hundred, which he found on the walls of the tomb. It was from these copies that Belzoni formed the representation or model of this tomb, which he afterwards exhibited in London and Paris. On returning to Cairo from this great discovery, he immediately engaged in a new investigation, which conducted him to another perhaps still more interesting. He determined to make an attempt to penetrate into one of the pyramids. At length in the pyra- mid called Cephrenes, he discovered the entrance to a passage which led him into the centre of the structure. Here he found a sepulchral chamber, with a sarcophagus in the middle of it, containing the bones of a bull — a discovery, which has been considered as proving that these immense edifices were in reality erected by the superstition of tlie old Egyptians for no other purpose than to serve each as a sepulchre for one of their brute divini- ties. Encouraged by the splendid success which attended his efforts, and which had made his name famous in all parts of the literary world, Belzoni engaged in various other enterprises of a similar character. He also made several journeys in thO remote parts of Egypt, and into the adjoining regions of Africa. He set sail for Europe in September, 1819. The first place which he visit* GIOVANNI BATTISTA BELZONI. 215 ed was his native city, from which he had been absent nearly twenty years. He presented to the Paduans two lion-headed granite statues, which were placed in a conspicuous situation in the palace of Justice. A medal was at the same time struck in honor of the giver, on which were in- scribed his name and a recital of his exploits. From Italy Belzoni hastened to England, where the rumor of his discoveries had already excited a greater interest than in any other country. In 1820, an account of his travels and discoveries appeared in a quarto volume, with another volume of plates, in folio. It soon passed through three editions, while translations of it into French and Italian appeared at Paris and Milan. After this, Belzoni visited successively, France, Russia, Sweden, and Denmark. Returning to England he undertook, under the auspices of government, the perilous attempt of penetrating into central Africa. Proceeding to Tangiers he went from thence to Fez. Unexpected difficulties prevented his advancing in that direction. On this disap- pointment, he sailed for Madeira, and from thence, in October, 1823, he set out for the mouth of the river Benin, on the western coast of Africa, with the intention of making his way to the interior from that point. A malady, however, attacked him almost as soon as he stepped his foot on shore. He expired at Gato, on the 3d of December, 1823. His remains were interred on the shore, under a plane tree. An inscription in English was afterwards placed over his grave. WILLIAM CAXTON. " The ease which we now find in providing and dispersing what number of copies of books we please by means of the press," says Dr. Middleton, in his Free Inquiry, " makes us apt to imagine, without considering the matter, that the publica- tion of books was the same easy affair in all former times as in the present. But the case was quite different. For, when there were no books in the world but what were written out by hand, with great labor and expense, the method of pub- lishing them was necessarily very slow, and the price very dear ; so that the rich and curious only would be disposed or able to purchase them ; and to such, also, it was difficult to procure them or to know even where they were to be bought." Of the truth of these remarks of Dr. Middleton, a great variety of facts might be brought forward in proof. In 1299, the Bishop of Winchester borrowed a Bible, in two volumes, folio, from a convent in that city, giving a bond, drawn up in the most formal and solemn manner, for its due return. This Bible had been given to the convent by a former Bishop, and, in consideration of this gift and one hundred marks, the monks founded a daily mass for the soul of the donor. In the same century, several Latin Bibles were given to the University of Oxford, on condition that the students who read them should deposit a caution- ary pledge. And even after manuscripts wore WILLIAM CAXTON. 217 multiplied, by the invention of linen paper, it was enacted by the statutes of St. Mary's college, at Oxford, in 1446, that "no scholar shall occupy a book in the library above one hour, or two hours at most, lest others should be hindered from the use of the same." Money was often lent on the deposit of a book ; and there were public chests in the univer- sities and other seminaries, in which the books so deposited were kept They were often particular- ly named and described in wills, generally left to a relative or friend, in fee, and for the term of his life, and afterwards to the library of some religious house. " When a book was bought," observes Mr. Walton, " the affair was of so much importance, that it was customary to assemble persons of conse- quence and character, and to make a formal record that they were present on the occasion." The same author adds : " Even so late as the year 1471, when Louis XI, of France, borrowed the works of the Arabian physician, Rhasis, from the faculty of medicine, at Paris, he not only deposited, by way of a pledge, a valuable plate, but was obliged to procure a nobleman to join with him as party in a deed, by which he bound himself to return it, under a considerable forfeiture." Long and violent altercations, and even lawsuits, sometimes took place, in consequence of the disputed proper- ty of a book. Books were so scarce in Spain in the tenth century, that several monasteries had among them only one copy of the Bible, one of Jerome's Epistles, and one of several other religious books. There are some curious instances given by Lu- pus, abbot of Ferrieris, of the extreme scarcity of classical manuscripts in the middle of the ninth 19 218 WILLIAM CAXTOX. century. He was much devoted to literature, and from his letters appears to have been indefatigable in his endeavors to find out such manuscripts, in order to borrow and copy them. In a letter to the pope, he earnestly requests of him a copy of Quinctilian, and of a treatise of Cicero ; " for," he adds, " though we have some fragments of them, a complete copy is not to be found in France." In two other of his letters, he requests of a brother abbot the loan of several manuscripts, which he as- sures him shall be copied and returned as soon as possible, by a faithful messenger. Another time he sent a special messenger to borrow a manuscript, promising that he would take very great care of it, and return it by a safe opportunity, and re- questing the person who lent it to him, if he were asked to whom he had lent it, to reply to some near relation of his own, who had been very urgent to borrow it. Another manuscript, which he seems to have prized much, and a loan of which had been so frequently requested, that he thought of banishing it somewhere, that it might not be destroyed or lost, he tells a friend he may perhaps lend him when he comes to see him, but that he will not trust it to the messenger who had been sent for it, though a monk, and trust-worthy, be- cause he was travelling on foot. Respecting the price of manuscript books, we are not in the possession of many facts. Plato paid one hundred minre, equal to £375, for three small treatises by Philolaus, the Pythagorean. After the death of Speusippus, Plato's disciple, his books, few in number, were purchased by Aris- totle, for about £675. It is said, that St. Jerome nearly ruined himself by the purchase of religiou* WILLIAM CAXTON. 210 works alone. Persons of moderate fortunes could not afford the means of procuring them, nor the rich even without the sacrifice of some luxuries. The mere money which was paid for them in the dark ages, whenever a person distinguished him- self for his love of literature, was seldom the sole or the principal expense. It was often necessary to send to a great distance and to spend much time in finding out where they were. In the ninth century, an English bishop was obliged to make five journeys to Rome, principally in order to purchase books. For one of his books thus pro- cured, king Alfred gave him an estate of eight hides of land, or as much as eight ploughs could till. About the period of the invention of cotton paper, 1174, the homilies of St. Bede and St. Augustine's Psalter were bought by a prior in Winchester, from the monks of Dorchester, in Oxfordshire, for twelve measures of barley and a pall richly emroidered in silver. Stow informs us, that in 1274, a Bible, in nine volumes, fairly written, with a gloss, or comment, sold for fifty marks, or £33 6fuse heavenly shower- bath I ever enjoyed. The roaring of the storm ' as terrible ; several trees around me were broken off and torn up by the roots, and those mat stood were bent almost to the ground ; limbs of trees of several hundred weight flew past within a few yards of me, and I was astonished how I escaped. I would rather take my chance in a field of battle, than in such a tornado again. "On the 14th day of my journey, at noon, I arrived at this place, having overcome every obsta- cle, alone, and without being acquainted with the country ; and, what surprised the boatmen more, without whiskey. * # * The best view of the place and surrounding scenery is from the old Spanish fort, on the south side of the town, about a quarter of a mile distant. From this high point, looking up the river, Natchez lies on your right, a mingled group of green trees and white S&3 ALEXANDER WILSON. 245 and red houses, occupying an uneven plain, much washed into ravines, rising as it recedes from the bluff, a high precipitous bank of the river. * * On your left you look down, at a depth of two or three hundred feet, on the river winding majesti- cally to the south. This part of the river and shore is the general rendezvous of all the arks or Kentucky boats, several hundreds of which are at present lying moored there, loaded with the produce of the thousand shores of this noble river. The busy multitudes below present a perpetually varying picture of industry ; and the noise and uproar, softened by the distance, with the contin- ual crowing of the poultry with which many of these arks are filled, produce cheerful and exhil- arating ideas. The majestic Mississippi, swelled by his ten thousand tributary streams, of a pale brown color, half a mile wide, and spotted with trunks of trees, that show the different threads of the current and its numerous eddies, bears his depth of water past in silent grandeur. Seven gunboats, anchored at equal distances along the stream, with their ensigns displayed, add to the effect. * * * The whole country beyond the Mississippi, from south round to west and north, presents to the eye one universal level ocean of forest, bounded only by the horizon. So perfect is this vast level, that not a leaf seems to rise above the plain, as if shorn by the hand of heaven. At this moment, while I write, a terrific thunder-storm, with all its towering assemblage ' CO of black, alpine clouds, discharging living light- ning in every direction, overhangs this vast level, and gives a magnificence and sublime effect to the whole." 9- VOL. II. 21* 246 ALEXANDER WILSON. From Natchez our traveller continued his jour- ney to New Orleans, and, as the sickly season was approaching, soon took passage in a ship bound to New York, where he arrived on the thirtieth of July, having considerably enlarged his stock of materials, and gained some new subscribers. In September, 1812, Mr. Wilson started to visit his subscribers at the East. At Haverhill, N. H., he was the subject of a ludicrous mistake. The inhabitants, " perceiving among them a stranger of very inquisitive habits, and who evinced great zeal in exploring the country, saga- ciously concluded that he was a spy from Canada, employed in taking sketches of the place to facil- itate the invasion of the enemy. Under these impressions it was thought conducive to the public safety that Mr. Wilson should be apprehended ; and he was accordingly taken into the custody of a magistrate, who, on being made acquainted with his character and the nature of his visit, politely dismissed him, with many apologies for the mistake." During the remainder of this year and the first half of 1813, he proceeded in his work with great assiduity. The difficulties he had to contend with were numerous and harassing. The greatest of them was his poverty. He labored " without patron, fortune, or recompense." His only re- source, now that his duties as assistant editor of the Cyclopedia were finished, was the coloring of the plates. This was a delicate task, which he entrusted to others with hesitation, and gener- ally only to be disappointed with the result. When his friends urged him to refrain from his exhausting labors, he would reply that "life is ALEXANDER WILSON. 247 Bhort, and without exertion nothing can be per- formed." The seventh volume of the Ornithology was published in the early part of 1813, and lie imme- diately made preparations for the succeeding vol- ume, the letterpress of which was completed in August. He was not permitted to see it pub- lished. After an illness of but few days' duration, a disease which might, in his ordinary vigor, have been thrown off, terminated his life on the 23d of August, in the forty-seventh year of his age. He had often expressed the wish, that, at his decease, he might be buried where the birds might sing over his grave ; but those who were with him at the last, were unacquainted with this desire, and his remains were laid to rest in the cemetery of the Swedish church, in Southwark, Phila- delphia. In his person, Wilson was tall, slender, and handsome ; his eye was intelligent, and his coun- tenance expressive of a consciousness of intellec- tual resources above those of most with whom he associated. His conversation and his letters were remarkable for liveliness, force, and originality. Although much attached to his new home on this side of the Atlantic, he never forgot the friends whom he had left on the other. In a letter to his father, written after the publication of the first volume of the Ornithology, he says : " I would willingly give a hundred dollars to spend a few days with you all in Paisley ; but, like a true bird of passage, I would again wing my way across the western waste of waters, to the peace- ful and happy regions of America. * * * 248 ALEXANDER WILSON. Let me know, my dear father, how you live and how you enjoy your health at your advanced age. I trust the publication I have now commenced, and which has procured for me reputation and respect, will also enable me to contribute to your independence and comfort, in return for what I owe you. To my step-mother, sisters, brothers, and friends, I beg to be remembered affection- ately." The work which he produced is a great honor to the country (an honor frequently acknowledged by distinguished foreigners) ; and although it yields to the still more splendid production of Audubon, yet time will enhance, not detract from, the honor due to so zealous, persevering, and in- dustrious a naturalist. His descriptions we value, not only for their accuracy, but for the fine poetic sensibility which they so often display. " We need no other evidence of his unparalled industry, than the fact, that of two hundred and seventy- eight species which have been figured and de- scribed in his Ornithology, fifty-six of these have not been noticed by any former naturalist ; and several of the latter number are so extremely rare, that the specimens from which the figures were taken, were the only ones that he was ever enabled to obtain." The most prominent trait of Wilson was his general sympathy with nature. Every rock, ev- ery tree, every flower, every rivulet, had a voice for him. No little bird sung which did not sing for his pleasure, or to tell him some story. Though obliged by his art to take the life of many a beautiful warbler, he never did so for the sake of a cruel sport. His " victims " were after all ALEXANDER WILSON. 249 his " friends," for whom he never ceased to plead, and whom he always commended to the kind care of the farmer. The nimble woodpecker he as- serted to be a fellow-worker with man, destroying only the vermin which would otherwise injure the trees and the gardens. He defended the cat-bird against the prejudices of men and boys ; for which prejudices, he says, he never heard any reason but that they hated cat-birds, just as some men say they hate Frenchmen. Even if king-birds did de- stroy bees, it was not with him a good argument for their extermination. " In favor of the orchard oriole," says a very pleasant biographer, " he shows, that, while he destroys insects without number, he never injures the fruit; he has seen instances in which the entrance to his nest was half closed up with clusters of apples ; but so far from being tempted with the luxury, he passed them always with gentleness and caution. He enters into a deliberate calculation of the exact value of the red-winged blackbird, which certainly bears no good reputation on the farm ; showing, that allowing a single bird fifty insects in a day, which would be short allowance, a single pair would consume twelve thousand in four months ; and if there are a million pairs of these birds in the United States, the amount of insects is less by twelve thousand millions, than if the red-wing were exterminated." Sometimes he took upon himself to be the avenger of the wrongs of his feathered friends. " On one occasion," says the same writer, " a wood thrush, to whose delightful melody he had often listened till night began to darken and the fire-flies to sparkle in the woods, was suddenly missing, and its murder was traced 250 ALEXANDER WILSON. to the hawk, by the broken feathers and fragments of the wing; he declares that he solemnly re- solved, the next time he met with a hawk, to send it to the shades, and thus discharge the duty assigned to the avenger of blood." Towards all animals he was sincerely humane. A beautiful little incident, which he relates, will illustrate this : — " One of my boys caught a mouse in school a few days ago, and directly marched up to me with his prisoner. I set about drawing it that same evening ; and, all the while, the pant- ings of its little heart showed that it was in the most extreme agonies of fear. I had intended to kill it in order to fix it in the claws of a stuffed owl ; but happening to spill a few drops of water where it was tied, it lapped it up with such eager- ness, and looked up in my face with such an expression of supplicating terror, as perfectly overcame me. I immediately untied it, and re- stored it to life and liberty. The agonies of a prisoner at the stake, while the fire and instru- ments of torture are preparing, could not be more severe than the sufferings of that poor mouse ; and, insignificant as the object was, I felt at that moment the sweet sensation that mercy leaves on the mind, when she triumphs over cruelty." As might be supposed, Wilson was a shrewd observer, and independent in his opinions. He had no faith in the stories of birds being fascinated by snakes, and utterly ridiculed the assertions of some naturalists, that swallows spend the winter torpid in the trunks of old trees, or in the mud with eels at the bottom of ponds. An admirable trait of his character was a love of justice and truth. In his dealings with others, ALEXANDER WILSON. r6 9 251 he was honorable and generous. Extremely tem- perate in eating and drinking, he was able to en- dure the necessary fatigues and privations atten- dant on his wandering life, without sinking under them, or contracting dangerous diseases. His fault was an irritability of temper ; but this we can pardon when counterbalanced by so many virtues, while from his life we may draw an encouraging lesson of what may be accomplished by persever- ance, industry, and self-reliance. ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. Robert Bloomfield, the author of the "Far- mer's Boy," was born in 1766, at a small village in Suffolk, England. His father died before Robert was a year old. His mother was left with the charge of five other children. In these cir- cumstances, in order to obtain a maintenance for herself and her family, she opened a school, and, of course, taught her own children the elements of reading, along with those of her neighbors. The only school education which Robert ever re- ceived, in addition to what his mother gave him, was two or three months' instruction in writing at a school in the town of Ixworth. At the time when he was sent to this seminary, he was in his seventh year ; and he was taken away so soon in consequence of the second marriage of his mother. Her new husband, probably, did not choose to be at any expense in educating the children of his predecessor. *W r e have no account in what manner Robert spent his time from his seventh to his eleventh year ; but at this age he was taken into the ser- vice of a brother of his mother, a Mr. Austin, who was a respectable farmer on the lands of the Duke of Grafton. His uncle treated him exactly as he did his other servants, but that was kindly, and just as he treated his own sons. Robert, like all the rest of the household, labored as hard as he was able ; but, on the other hand, he was com- fortably fed and lodged, although his board seems ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. 253 to have been all be received for his work. His mother undertook to provide him with the few clothes which he needed, and this was more than she well knew how to do. Indeed she found so much difficulty in fulfilling her engagement, that she at length wrote to two of her eldest sons, who were employed in London as shoemakers, request- ing them to assist her, by trying to do something for their brother, who " was so small of his age," she added, " that Mr. Austin said that he was not likely to be able to get his living by hard labor." To this application her son George wrote in reply, that, if she would let Robert come to town, he would teach him to make shoes, and his other brother, Nathaniel, would clothe him. The anx- ious and affectionate mother assented to this pro- posal ; but she could not be satisfied without accompanying her son to the metropolis, and putting him herself into his brother's hands. " She charged me," writes Mr. George Bloom- field, " as I valued a mother's blessing, to watch over him, to set good examples for him, and never to forget that he had lost his father." When Robert came to London, he was in his fifteenth year. What acquaintance he had with books, at this time, is not stated ; but it must have been extremely scanty. We find no notice, in- deed, of his having been in the habit of reading at all, while he was with Mr. Austin. The place in which the boy was received by his two broth- ers was a garret in a court in Bell Alley, Cole- man Street, where they had two turn-up beds, and five of them worked together. " As we were all single men," says George, " lodgers at a shilling per week each, our beds were coarse, and all things vol. ii. 22 254 ROBERT BLOOMFIEXD. far from being clean and snug, like what Robert had left at Sapiston. Robert was our man to fetch all things to hand. At noon he brought our dinners from the cook's shop ; and any one of our fellow-workmen, that wanted to have any thing brought in, would send Robert, and assist in his work, and teach him for a recompense for his trouble. Every day when the boy from the pub- lic house came for the pewter pots, and to learn what porter was wanted, he always brought the yesterday's newspaper. The reading of this newspaper, we had been used to take by turns ; but, after Robert came, he mostly read for us, be- cause his time was of the least value." The writer goes on to state, that in this his occupation of reader of the newspapers, Robert frequently met with words which were new to him, and which he did not understand — a circumstance of which he often complained. So one day his brother, happening to see, on a book-stall, a small English dictionary, which had been very ill used, bought it for him, for four-pence. This volume was to Robert a valuable treasure ; and, by con- sulting and studying it, he soon learned to com- prehend perfectly whatever he read. The pro- nunciation of some of the hard words, however, caused him much trouble ; but by an auspicious circumstance he was at length put into the way of having his difficulties here also considerably diminished. One Sabbath evening, he and his brother chanced to walk into a dissenting meeting- house in the Old Jewry, where an individual of great popularity and talent was delivering a dis- course. This was Mr. Fawcet. His manner was highly rhetorical. Robert was so much ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. 255 struck by his oratory, that, from this time, he made a point of regularly attending the chapel every Sabbath evening. In addition to the higher improvement of Mr. Fawcet's discourses, he learnt from him the proper accentuation of difficult words, which he had little chance of hearing pro- nounced elsewhere. He also accompanied his brother sometimes, though not often, to a debating society. Besides the newspapers, too, he at this time read aloud to his brothers and their fellow- workmen several books of considerable extent — a history of England, British Traveller, and a ge- ography — a sixpenny number of each of which in folio they took in every week. Robert spent in this way about as many hours every week in reading, as boys generally do in play. These studies, even though somewhat reluc- tantly applied to by Robert, doubtless had consid- erable effect in augmenting the boy's knowledge, and otherwise enlarging his mind. But it was a work different from any of those which have been mentioned, which first awakened his literary ge- nius. " I at this time," says Mr. George Bloom- field, " read the London Magazine, and in that work about two sheets were set apart for a Review. Robert seemed always eager to read this Review. Here he could see what the literary men were doing, and learn how to judge of the merits of the works which came out ; and I observed that he always looked at the poet's corner. One day he repeated a song which he composed to an old tune. I was much surprised that he should make so smooth verses ; so I persuaded him to try whether the editor of our paper would give them a place in the poet's corner. He succeeded, and 256 ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. they were printed." After this, Bloomfield con- tributed other pieces to the same publication into which his verses had been admitted ; and under the impulse of its newly kindled excitement, his mind would seem to have suddenly made a start forwards, which could not escape the observation of his associates. His brother and fellow-work- men in the garret began to get instruction from him. Shortly after, upon removing to other lodg- ings, they found themselves in the same apart- ment with a singular character ; a person named James Kay, a native of Dundee. He was a mid- dle-aged man, and of a good understanding. He had many books, and some which he did not value ; such as The Seasons, Paradise Lost, and some novels. These books he lent to Robert, who spent all his leisure hours in reading The Seasons. In this book he took great delight. This first inspired him, in all probability, with the thought of composing a long poem on rural sub- jects. The design was also favored, in some de- gree, by a visit of two months, which he was in- duced to pay about this time to his native district. On this occasion, his old master, Mr. Austin, kindly invited him to make his house his home ; and the opportunity he thus had of reviewing, with a more informed eye, the scenes in which he had spent his early years, could hardly fail to act, with a powerful effect, in exciting his imagination. It was at last arranged that he should be taken as an apprentice by his brother's landlord, who was a freeman of the city ; and he returned to Lon- don. He was at this time eighteen years of age. It was not intended that his master should ever avail himself of the power which the indentures ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. 257 gave him, and he behaved in this matter very honorably. Robert, in two years more, learnt to work very expertly at the shoemaking business. For some years after this, his literary perform- ances seem to have amounted merely to a few effusions in verse, which he used generally to transmit in letters to his brother, who had now gone to live at Bury St. Edmunds, in his native county. Meanwhile he studied music, and be- came a good player on the violin. About this time he was married, and hired a room in the second story of a house in Coleman Street. The landlord gave him leave to work at his trade in the light garret two flights of stairs higher. It was while he sat plying his trade in the gar- ret, in Bell Alley, with six or seven other work- men around him, that Bloomfield composed the work which first made his talents generally known, and for which principally he continues to be re- membered, — his " Farmer's Boy." It is a very interesting fact, that, notwithstanding the many elements of disturbance and interruption in the midst of which the author must, in such a situa- tion, have had to proceed through his task, nearly the half of this poem was completed before he committed a line of it to paper. This is an un- common instance both of memory and of self- abstraction. His feat, on this occasion, appears to have amounted to the composing and recollect- ing of nearly six hundred lines, without the aid of any record. The production of all this poetry, in the circumstances which have been mentioned, perhaps deserves to be accounted a still more wonderful achievement than its retention. VOL. LL 22* EOBF.RT BLOOMFIELD. When the " Farmer's Boy " was finished, Bloomlield offered it to several hooksellers, none of whom received it favorably. The editor of the Monthly Magazine, in the number for Sep- tember, 1823, gives the following account of his appearance : — " He brought his poem to our office ; and, though his unpolished appearance, his coarse handwriting, and wretched orthogra- phy, afforded no prospect that his production could be printed, yet he found attention by his repeated calls, and by the humility of his expec- tations, which were limited to half a dozen copies of the Magazine. At length, on his name being announced where a literary gentleman, particu- larly conversant in rural economy, happened to be present, the poem was finally reexamined ; and its general aspect excited the risibility of that gentleman in so pointed a manner, that Bloomfield was called into the room, and exhorted not to waste his time, and neglect his employment, in making vain attempts, and particularly in tread- ing on ground which Thomson had sanctified. His earnestness and confidence, however, led the editor to advise him to consult his countryman, Mr. Capel Lofft, of Trooton, to whom he gave him a letter of introduction. On his departure, the gentleman present warmly complimented the editor on the sound advice which he had given the ' poor fellow ; ' and it was mutually conceived that an industrious man was thereby likely to be saved from a ruinous infatuation." Mr. Lofft in time received the poem, and soon came to the conclusion, that, notwithstanding its forbidding aspect, it possessed original merit of a high order. Through his exertions it was sold to ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. 259 the publishers, Messrs. Vernor and Hood, for £50. These gentlemen subsequently acted very liberally in giving to the poet an additional sum of £200, and an interest in the copyright of his production. As soon as published, the poem was received with unexpected admiration. It was praised by literary men and critics, and read by every body. This might seem the more remarkable because of its resemblance, at the first sight, to the " Seasons " of Thomson. Like that poet of nature, he sings of " Spring," " Summer," " Autumn," and " Winter." But the resemblance is almost confined to the mere announcement of the themes ; for while Thomson weaves into his poem the various events of the rolling year, wherever witnessed or however produced, Bloomfield confines himself to the hum- ble affairs of the farm. It is, indeed, his own early life, that he lives over again. His tender imagi- nation hallows the lowly paths which his boyish footsteps trod, and out of ordinary and vulgar events gathers the themes of poetry. Thus do fragrant and beautiful flowers grow from the rankest soil. It is not nature which is vulgar ; but we, with our gross conceptions, make it appear so. He, from whose eyes the scales have fallen, may see in events the most common and lowly, a soul of beauty. Bloomfield sufficiently indicates the course of his poem, in the invocation with which the first brief canto opens : — " come, blest Spirit ! whatsoe 'er thou art. Thou kindling warmth that hoverest round my heart, Sweet inmate, hail ! thou source of sterling joy, That poverty itself cannot destroy, Be thou my muse ; and faithful still to me, Retrace the paths of wild obscuritv. ki 260 ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. No deeds of arms my humble lines rehearse ; No alpine wonders thunder through my verse ; The roaring cataract, the snow-topt hill. Inspiring awe, till breath itself stands still ; Nature's sublimer scenes ne'er charmed mine eyes, Nor science led me through the boundless skies. From meaner objects far my raptures flow : O point these raptures ! bid my bosom glow ! And lead my soul to extacies of praise For all the blessings of my infant days ! Bear me through regions where gay fancy dwells ; But mould to truth's fair form what memory tells." The poem throughout is characterized by sim- plicity and truth ; and in these respects, as well as in picturesqueness, pathos, and strictly pastoral imagery, it probably equals any poem of the kind ever published. Within the first three years after its appearance, seven editions, comprising in all twenty-six thousand copies, were printed, and new impressions have since been repeatedly called for. In 1805, it was translated into Latin by Mr. Clubbe. It was also translated into French, un- der the title of Le Valet du Fermier. From various sources the successful poet re- ceived substantial marks of the esteem in which he was held. Subscriptions were raised for him ; and many of the nobility, with the Duke of York at their head, made him valuable presents. The Duke of Grafton settled upon him a small annuity, and made him an under sealer in the seal-office. Besides this, the sale of the work itself brought him in a considerable sum. No wonder he said that " his good fortune appeared to him like a dream." The circumstances of his subsequent life were not so happy as this auspicious commencement of his literary career seemed to promise. Ill health ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. 261 obliged liim to give up his post at the seal-office, and he again resorted to his old trade of shoe- making, adding to it the making of JEolian harps. Having engaged in the bookselling business, he was unsuccessful; and this, together with a di- minished sale of his poems and his liberal charity to his relatives, who were numerous and all poor, reduced him almost to poverty. Mr. Rogers ex- erted himself to obtain a pension for his way-worn and sad-hearted brother poet, and Mr. Southey also manifested a deep interest in his welfare. Ill health was added to the sorrows of poverty, and a continual headache and great nervous irritability sometimes threatened to deprive him of reason. From this he w r as perhaps saved only by his de- cease. He removed to the country, and died at Shefford, in Bedfordshire, August 19, 1823, in the fifty-seventh year of his age. During his life he never deserted the muses. He published several short pieces in the Monthly Mirror ; a collection of rural tales ; and several volumes of poems. One of his productions, u May-day with the Muses," published in the year of his death, " opens with a fine burst of poetical though mel- ancholy feeling." " Oh for the strength to paint mv joy once more ! That joy I feel when winter's reign is o'er ; When the dark despot lifts his hoary brow, And seeks his polar realm's eternal snow ; Though bleak November's fogs oppress my brain, Shake every nerve, and struggling fancy chain 5 Though time creeps o'er me with his palsied hand, And frost-like bids the stream of passion stand." These later works of his are of various degrees of merit. We will quote two of his shorter pieces, 262 ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. " The Soldier's Home," and some lines " To his Wife," as happily exhibiting some of the sweetest characteristics of his poetry. Of the first, Pro- fessor Wilson remarks, tk The topic is trite, but in Mr. Bloomfield's hands it almost assumes a char- acter of novelty. Burns's 1 Soldier's Return ' is not, to our taste, one whit superior." THE SOLDIER'S HOME. " My untried muse shall no high tone assume, Nor strut in arms — farewell my cap and plume ! Brief be my verse, a task within my power, I tell my feelings in one happy hour. But what an hour was that ? when from the main I reached this lovely valley once again ! A glorious harvest filled my eager sight, Half shocked, half waving in a flood of light; On that poor cottage roof where I was born, The sun looked down as in life's early morn. I gazed around, but not a soul appeared ; I listened on the threshold, nothing heard ; I called my father thrice, but no one came ; It was not fear or grief that shook my frame, But an o'erpowering sense of peace and home, Of toils gone by, perhaps of joys to come. The door invitingly stood open wide ; I shook my dust, and set my staff aside. How sweet it was to breathe that cooler air, And take possession of my father's chair ! Beneath my elbow, on the solid frame, Appeared the rough initials of my name, Cut forty years before ! The same old clock Struck the same bell, and gave my heart a shock I never can forget. A short breeze sprung, And while a sigh was trembling on my tongue, Caught the old dangling almanacs behind. And up they flew like banners in the wind ; Then gently, singly, down, down, down they went, And told of twenty years that I had spent Far from my native land. That instant came A robin on the threshold ; though so tame, Sfr) ROBERT BLOOM.FI ELD. 263 At first he looked distrustful, almost shy, And cast on me his coal-black, steadfast eye, And seemed to say (past friendship to renew), ' Ah ha ! old worn-out soldier, is it you ? ' Through the room ranged the imprisoned humble bee, And bombed, and bounced, and struggled to be tree ; Dashing against the panes with sullen roar. That threw their diamond sunlight on the floor; That floor, clean-sanded, where my fancy strayed O'er undulating waves the broom had made ; Eeminding me of those of hideous forms That met us as we passed the Cape of storms, "Where high and loud they break and peace comes never ; They roll and foam, and roll and foam for ever. But here was peace, that peace which home can yield : The grasshopper, the partridge in the field, And ticking clock, were all at once become The substitute for clarion, fife, and drum. While thus I mused, still gazing, gazing still, On beds of moss that spread the window sill, Feelings on feelings, mingling, doubling rose ; My heart felt every thing but calm repose: I could not reckon minutes, hours, nor years, But rose at once and bursted into tears ; Then, like a fool, confused, sat down again, And thought upon the past with shame and pain ; I raved at war and all its horrid cost, And glory's quagmire, where the brave are lost. On carnage, fire, and plunder, long I mused, And cursed the murdering weapons I had used. ^ .*^" ^ ^ *^ ■¥£ But why thus spin my tale — thus tedious be ? Happy old soldier ! what's the world to me ! " The lines to "his wife," are full of delicate affection, full too of his narrow observation of na- ture and of genial sympathy with all things. They give us a delightful picture of the heart of him who wrote them. 264 ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. TO UIS "WIFE. " I rise, dear Mary, from the soundest rest, A wandering, way-worn, musing, singing guest. I claim the privilege of hill and plain : Mine are the woods, and all that they contain; The unpolluted gale, which sweeps the glade ; All the cool blessings of the solemn shade ; Health, and the flow of happiness sincere. • Yet there's one wish — I wish that thou wert here : Free from the trammels of domestic care, With me these dear autumnal sweets to share ; To share my heart's ungovernable joy, And keep the birth-day of our poor lame boy. Ah ! that's a tender string ! Yet since I find That scenes like these can soothe the harassed mind, Trust me, 'twould set thy jaded spirits free, To wander thus through vales and woods with me. Thou know'st how much I love to steal away From noise, from uproar, and the blaze of day ; With double transport would my heart rebound To lead thee where the clustering nuts are found: No toilsome efforts would our task demand, For the brown treasure stoops to meet the hand. Round the tall hazel, beds of moss appear In green swards nibbled by the forest deer ; Sun, and alternate shade ; while o'er our heads The cawing rook his glossy pinions spreads ; The noisy jay, his wild woods dashing through; The ring-dove's chorus, and the rustling bough; The far-resounding gate ; the kite's shrill scream; The distant ploughman's halloo to his team. This is the chorus to my soul so dear; It would delight thee too, wert thou but here ; For we might talk of home, and muse o'er days Of sad distress, and Heaven's mysterious ways : Our chequered fortunes with a smile retrace, And build new hopes upon our infant race ; Pour our thanksgivings forth, and weep the while ; Or pray for blessings on our native isle. But vain the wish ! Mary, thy sighs forbear, Nor grudge the pleasure which thou canst not share : Make home delightful, kindly wish for me, And I'll leave hills, and dales, and woods for thee. n ST3 ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. 265 As these extracts sufficiently indicate, the poet was of an affectionate and amiable character. His genius did not get the better of his modesty, nor destroy his attachment for his humble but faithful friends. It is gratifying to know that those excellent and affectionate relations, his mother and brother, both lived to witness the prosperity of him who had been to each, in other days, the object of so much anxious care. It was the dearest of the poet's gratifications, when his book was printed, to present a copy of it to his mother, to whom upon that occasion, he had it in his power, for the first time, to pay a visit, after twelve years' absence from his native village. From a tribute to his memory, by a brother poet, Bernard Barton, we quote a single verse as a conclusion to this imperfect sketch. " It is not quaint and local terms Besprinkled o'er thy rustic lay, Though well such dialect confirms, Its power unlettered minds to sway; But 'tis not these that most display Thy sweetest charms, thy gentlest thrall,— Words, phrases, fashion, pass away, But Truth and Nature live through all." twnr 2t$r ISAAC MILNER. This distinguished mathematician, and exem- plary divine, was born in the neighborhood of Leeds, England, in the year 1751. His father was a man of strong understanding, who, having felt, in his own case, the want of a good educa- tion, formed an early resolution to remedy that defect in his children, as far as in him lay. Ac- cordingly, Isaac, the youngest, was sent, at six years of age, with his brother Joseph, to the grammar-school of his native town, where he made a very rapid progress in classical learning. Just as he was entering upon the study of the Greek language, however, in his tenth year, the death of his father, who had been unfortunate in business, and had suffered materially in his cir- cumstances from the incidents of the rebellion of 1745, blighted all his prospects of a literary edu- cation ; his mother being under the painful necessity of taking him from school, and placing him in a situation in Leeds, in which he would have an opportunity of learning several branches of the woollen manufacture. His father had been a master-weaver ; and when he fell into difficulties, his sons, lads as they were, rose up early and sat up late, to contribute, by the produce of their spinning-wheels, to the support of the family, which was placed in such straitened circum- stances, that, Joseph requiring a Greek book, while at school, to enable him to pass into a higher class, his father sent it home, one Saturday night, Sir ISAAC MILNE R. 267 instead of a joint of meat for their Sunday's din- ner, not having the means of procuring both. When his death deprived his wife and children of the material advantage of his assistance, Joseph, during the intervals of school, and Isaac, before he went to his work as an apprentice, and after he came home from it, rising in winter many hours before day-break, and working by candle- light, plied the shuttle incessantly, for the better support of their mother, left in an ill state of health, to get a scanty living by the labor of her hands. Isaac remained with his master for sev- eral years, until his brother Joseph (who from the humble station of chapel clerk of Catharine Hall, Cambridge — in which capacity, supported by several admirers of his extraordinary learning in Leeds, he entered that university soon after the death of his father — had become head-master of the grammar school, and afterwards lecturer of the principal church in Hull), from an income of £200 a year, generously resolved to take upon himself the charge of his education for the church. Before, however, he had him removed to Hull, he commissioned a clergyman at Leeds to ascertain what were his attainments. The degree of knowl- edge which he had acquired, the accuracy of his ideas, and the astonishing command of language which he possessed, fully satisfied him of the com- petency of the lad for the situation in which it was intended to place him. A few days after, at the age of seventeen, he left Leeds and the occu- pation of a weaver, for his brother's dwelling and the more congenial pursuits of a literary life. Though still but a boy, he was found to have been so well grounded in the classics by Moore, the 268 ISAAC MILNEIi. usher of the grammar-school at Leeds, as to be able to render material assistance to his brother, in teaching the lower boys of his crowded classes. Whilst not thus engaged, he pursued his own studies with his wonted diligence, and soon be- came a complete and accomplished classic. In mathematics, also, his attainments must also at this time have been considerable, as his brother, whose preeminence as a scholar lay not in these pursuits, on the occurrence of any algebraical dif- ficulty, was in the habit of sending to him for its solution. Having thus redoubled his diligence, to make up for the time he had lost, — well pre- pared by a most laborious and successful, if not a long course of study, aided by natural talents of unusual depth and splendor, to make a conspicuous figure at the university, — he was entered a sizar (an indigent student supported by benefactions called exhibitions) at Queen's College, Cambridge, in the year 1770, where he greatly distinguished himself by his learning and application. He took his bachelor's degree in 1774, when he attained the high honor of being at once the senior wran- gler of his year and the first Smith's prize man. So strongly, indeed, was his superiority over all his competitors marked on this occasion, that, contrary to the usual practice, it was deemed right, by the examiners, to interpose a blank space between them ; and he was honored with the designation of Incomparabilis, a distinction' which has never been conferred but in one other in- stance. Nor was his learning confined to math- ematics, for he was not less eminent in other walks of science and literature. In theology, we learn from Bishop Watson, that he was so deeply ISAAC MILNER. 269 read, that, when he kept his act, the divinity school was thronged with auditors; and their curiosity was amply gratified by listening to what the pre- late terms a "real academical entertainment." The circumstance of these disputations being held in Latin, proves also that Milner must have made great progress in classical knowledge. In the following year, Mr. Milner was elected a fellow of his college. In 1783 and in 1785, he acted as moderator in the schools ; was nominated, in 1782, one of the proctors, and in 1783, a taxor of the university. In the latter year, also, he was chosen to be the first Jacksonian professor of natural and experimental philosophy and chem- istry, in which sciences he had previously given several courses of public lectures in the university, with great acceptance. The acquaintance of Milner with Mr. Wilber- force, and the influence he exerted upon that dis- tinguished philanthropist, are among the most interesting circumstances of his life. When a boy, Wilberforce attended the school of the Milners, at Hull. This was the commencement of their ac- quaintance ; and wnen, some years afterwards, Mr. Wilberforce was seeking a companion for a tour upon the continent, he proposed to Mr. Mil- ner to accompany him. Accordingly, on the 20th of October, 1784, they started; Milner and Wilberforce in one carriage, and the mother, sis- ter, and two cousins of the latter following them in another. They crossed France to Lyons, dropped down the " arrowy Rhone," and made quite a long stay at Nice. Mr. Wilberforce had chosen his companion for vivacity and sterling good sense, for his talents and great acquire- /fy&trrtfc. 23* 270 ISAAC MILNER. ments, " his cheerfulness, good -nature, and powers of social entertainment/'* But there were other qualities in this man, of which the young and gay traveller was not aware, but which, under the di- rection of an over-watching Providence, were made productive of most important results. Mr. "Wilberforce himself says of him, " Though Mil- ner's religious principles were even now, in theory, much the same as in later life, yet they had at this time little practical effect upon his conduct. He was free from every taint of vice, but not more attentive than others to religion ; he ap- peared in all respects like an ordinary man of the world, mixing like myself in all companies, and joining as readily as others in the prevalent Sun- day parties. Indeed, when I engaged him as a. companion in my tour, I knew not that he had any deeper principles. The first time I discovered it, was at the public table at Scarborough. The conversation turned on Mr. Stillingfleet ; and I spoke of him as a good man, but one who carried things too far. — " Not a bit too far," said Milner ; and to this opinion he adhered, when we renewed the conversation in the evening on the Sands. This declaration greatly surprised me ; and it was agreed that at some future time we would talk the matter over. Had I known at first what his opinions were, it would have decided me against * In all the scenes of gayety upon the continent, "Wilber- force M was constantly accompanied by Milner, whose vivacity and sense, joined with rustic and unpolished man- ners, continually amused his friends. — "Pretty boy! pretty boy ! ; ' uttered in the broadest Yorkshire dialect, whilst he stroked familiarly his head, was the mode in which he first addressed the young Prince William of Gloucester." — Life of Wilherforce. ISA A.C MILNER. 271 making the offer ; so true it is that a gracious hand leads us in ways that we know not, and blesses us not only without, but even against, our plans and inclinations." Wilberfbrce was at this time among the gayest of the gay, and was quite ready to turn his raillery against all seriousness in religion, as extravagant and methodistical ; but Milner met his jocose attack with earnestness. u I am no match for you, Wilberfbrce," he would say to him, " in this running fire ; but, if you really wish to discuss these subjects seriously, I will gladly enter on them with you." Another small circumstance shows the turn of Milner's mind. By chance, a short time before they started on their tour, Wilberforce took up " Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Religion," and, casting his eye over it, asked his companion what the character of it was. " It is one of the best books ever written," was the reply: "let us take it with us, and read it on our journey." The result was that it was taken and read, and Wil- berforce determined at some future time to exam- ine the scriptures for himself, and find out the truth of what the little volume stated. The two travellers were called home from their journey rather unexpectedly, by the political con- dition of England. Leaving the ladies of the party at Nice, they made their w r ay through Antibes, across France, with all haste. Once on their return, Wilberforce seems to have been in great danger, from which his friend but just saved him. " As they climbed a frozen road upon the hills of Burgundy, the weight of their carriage overpowered the horses ; and it was just running over a frightful precipice, when Milner, who was rc 272 ISAAC MILNER. walking behind, perceived the danger, and, by a sudden effort of his great strength of muscle, ar- rested its descent." After the close of the session of Parliament, which took place about the end of June, the two friends started again, and met their former companions at Genoa. From this place they travelled together as before to Switzerland by way of Turin. During this journey, they be- gan, according to Milner's suggestion, to read the Greek Testament together, and carefully to exam- ine its doctrines, and discuss its principles. The result is known to all who know any thing of the later life of Wilberforce. " By degrees," he says of his companion, " I imbibed his senti- ments, though I must confess with shame, that they long remained merely as opinions assented to by my understanding, but not influencing my heart. My interest in them certainly increased, and at length I began to be impressed with a sense of their importance. Milner, though full of levity on all other subjects, never spoke on this but with the utmost seriousness, and all he said tended to increase my attention to religion." The friendship, thus cemented, continued without an interruption until the death of Milner, thirty-seven years afterwards. In the year 1788, Mr. Milner was elected pres- ident of the college, to which, as a student, he had been so bright an ornament, and, about the same time, took his degree of doctor in divinity. For some years previously, the college, which had been the asylum of Erasmus, was rapidly de- clining in its reputation for learning and disci- pline ; but, from the moment of his assuming the reins of its government, he labored indefatigably ISAAC MILNER. 273 and successfully to restore its ancient character for both. He introduced into its fellowships men eminent for their talents at other colleges. It specially became celebrated, during his presidency, for the number of pious young men who studied there for the Christian ministry, and who are now some of the most popular and zealous clergymen of the establishment. Dr. Milner aided the cause of learning, in no slight degree, by giving a strong impulse to the study of mathematics and the va- rious branches of experimental philosophy. In 1791, he was raised to the deanery of Carlisle. In 1798, he was placed in the chair of the Lucasian professor of mathematics, a situation worth about £350 a year, which had been suc- cessively filled by Isaac Barrow, Sir Isaac New- ton, Whiston, Saunderson, Colson, and Waring, the most eminent mathematicians of their day. He twice served the office of vice-chancellor of the university. As an author, he is advanta- geously known by the life of his brother Joseph ; by strictures on some of the publications of Dr. Herbert Marsh — a most masterly defence of the Bible Society ; by a continuation of the Church History begun by his brother; and by papers contributed to the Transactions of the Royal So- ciety, of which he was a fellow. He died at the house of his friend, Mr. Wilber- force, in London, on the 1st of April, 1820, in the seventieth year of his age. He left the world in humble hope of eternal life, through the media- tion and merits of the Lord Jesus Christ. " In intellectual endowment," says his biogra- pher (supposed to be Mr. Wilberforce), "Isaac Milner was unquestionably one of the first men 274 ISAAC MILNER. of his day. lie possessed prodigious powers of un- derstanding. As a mathematician, he was one of the first, if not the very first, of his age. He had also a great partiality for mechanics ; and spend- ing most of his leisure, during the lifetime of his brother, at Hull, his lodgings there were a com- plete workshop, filled with all kinds of carpenter's and turner's tools. There he was accustomed dai- ly to relax his mind from the fatigues of study by some manual labor ; and so much was he inter- ested in these pursuits, that his lathe and appen- dages for turning were not only extremely curious, but very expensive, having cost him no less a sum than one hundred and forty guineas. He had also a very ingenious machine, partly of his own invention, which formed and polished at the same time, watch wheels of every description, with the utmost possible exactness." Humility was a very striking feature in his character. Never, at any period of his life, was he ashamed of his former lowly station ; and after he had become the head of a college, a dignified member of the clerical order, and had proved himself one of the first scholars in the country, whenever he passed through Leeds, as he gener- ally did on his journeys to the North, he never failed to visit the obscure friends of his boyish days ; and, by his well-timed acts of generosity towards them, often did he " deliver the poor and fatherless, and cause the widow's heart to sing for joy." Isaac Milner, the poor fatherless weaver, and the very reverend Isaac Milner, president of Queen's College, Lucasian professor of mathemat- ics, and dean of Carlisle, rich in this world's ISAAC MILNER. 275 goods,* as well as in literary fame, never wore even the semblance of two different men. Through life, he manifested in his deportment the unaffected simplicity of manners and affability of disposition appropriate to his early station in society, but not less adorning the high sphere in which, by the providence of God, he afterwards was called to move. * Notwithstanding his great liberality, he accumulated from the savings of his preferment a fortune of from fifty to sixty thousand pounds. SIR WILLIAM JONES. There is a sense in which every educated man may be said to be self-taught. All the aids which he receives from instructors, from libraries, and the whole apparatus of universities, will avail him little, without constant and diligent personal efforts. No man has made great attainments, but by severe toil. We introduce the name of Sir William Jones, not because he belongs to that meritorious class of persons, who, almost without means, have conquered great difficulties ; but be- cause he used the means which a liberal fortune bestowed, with so much assiduity, that, although dying at an early age, his name has ever since remained as one of the watchwords of scholars. Sir William Jones was born in London, in the year 1746. His father was distinguished as a mathematical scholar, and was on terms of close friendship with some of the most distinguished scientific and literary men of England ; among whom were Lord Hardwicke (afterward Lord Chancellor), Halley, Mead, and especially Sir Isaac Newton. His mother was the daughter of a celebrated cabinet maker, who had risen to great eminence in his profession, and, by the agreeableness of his manners and his good sense, had become an acceptable companion of highly- educated gentlemen. When William was but three years old, his father died, and the care of his education devolved upon his mother. Being a woman of strong mind, she determined to devote SIR WILLIAM JONES. 277 herself to this object as her first duty. Accordingly, although invited by the Countess of Macclesfield to remain with her at her residence at Sherborne Castle, she declined the solicitation, lest it should interfere with the plans she had formed for her son. The boy early showed an inquisitiveness uncommon among children ; and to his application for instruction, his mother always replied, Read, and you will know. To this maxim the great scholar, in after life, acknowledged that he was mainly indebted for his attainments. One of the most celebrated schools in England is that at Harrow, a village about ten miles north- west of London. It was founded in the reign of Elizabeth, and has educated its proportion of the distinguished scholars and statesmen of England. To this school William Jones was sent in 1753, at about the beginning of his eighth year. His mother accompanied him to the place, and re- mained there in order to render him such assist- ance, and give such a direction to his mind, as she thought would be for his good. For two years, he was distinguished more for diligence than pre- cocity, and divided his attention between his books and a little garden which he cultivated and em- bellished. He was so unfortunate, in his ninth year, as to break his thigh bone ; by which acci- dent he was detained from school for a year. Though his classical studies were intermitted during this period, yet his mother directed his attention to many of the best English writers, whose works were suited to his age and tastes. Some of the poems of Pope and Dryden afforded him great delight. On returning to school again, he was put into the same class which he had left ; vol. n. 2fc 278 SIR WILLIAM JONES. and their increased attainments, during his year of vacation, made him appear the more defective. The master, who mistook his necessary failure for the effect of dullness or laziness, threatened and punished, but without producing the wished-for result. It was a question, whether the boy would not be discouraged by harsh treatment, and his feelings become callous and indifferent ; but his spirit rose above the little adversities of his situa- tion. Of his own accord, he began to study the elementary treatises, which taught him the prin- ciples that his class had learnt while he was sick. In a few months, it became evident that the back- ward boy was neither lazy nor dull. He recov- ered his standing ; took the head of his class ; in every instance gained the prize offered for any exercise ; and carried his studies much beyond w r hat had ever been required of the, scholars in his form. In his twelfth year, he entered the upper school, and soon had occasion to give an example of the remarkable powers of his memory. His school- fellows, for their amusement, were endeavoring to represent a play, and, at his suggestion, had fixed on the Tempest. Of this, however, they had no copy, neither could one be easily procured. To supply the deficiency, young Jones wrote it out from memory, with sufficient correctness to en- able them to act it with great satisfaction to them- selves. About the same time, he began the study of Greek, and prosecuted his Latin with more zeal than ever. He conquered many of the diffi- culties of Latin prosody, before his teacher and schoolmates were aware that he had thought of the subject. The pastorals of Virgil, and several SIR WILLIAM JONES. 279 of the epistles of Ovid, he translated into English verse ; and it was not uncommon for boys of the superior classes to come to him for assistance in writing their exercises. The holidays he usually devoted to study. On one occasion, he invented a play, which snowed the tendency of his mind. His principal assistants were Dr. Bennett (the future Bishop of Cloyne) and Dr. Parr. The fields of Harrow they divided into states and kingdoms, according to the map of Greece, each assuming one as his dominion, and with it taking an ancient name. The hillocks were fortresses, which were attacked by others of their school- fellows, who consented to be called barbarians ; and the mimic wars which followed, gave rise to councils, harangues, embassies, and memorials, and whatever other operations of states and gov- ernments their young heads could learn about. In these operations, Jones was the leader.* * It is interesting to notice the opinions which his school- fellows and his principal instructor had of him at this early age. The Bishop of Cloyne wrote many years afterward : t; I knew him from the early age of eight or nine, and he was always an uncommon hoy. Great abilities, great par- ticularity of thinking, fondness for writing verses and plays of various kinds, and a degree of integrity and manly courage, of which I remember many instances, distin- guished him even at that period. I loved him and revered him, and, though one or two years older than he was, was always instructed by him from my earliest age. In a word, I can only say of this amiable and wonderful man, that he had more virtues and less faults than I ever yet saw in any human being; and that the goodness of his head, admirable as it was, was exceeded by that of his heart." Dr. Thackeray, the head master of Harrow, used to say, that Jones " was a boy of so active a mind, that, if he were left naked and friendless on Salisbury plain, he would nevertheless find the road to fame and riches." SIR "WILLIAM JONES. When Jones was fifteen years old, Dr. Sumner succeeded Dr. Thackeray; and, under his super- vision, the young scholar devoted the next two years of his life to the diligent study of the best ancient authors. He did not, however, confine himself to these. During his vacations, he found time to perfect himself in French, to study Italian and arithmetic. He also learned something of Arabic, and enough of Hebrew to enable him to read some of the Psalms in the original. His inclination to study at this period was, indeed, so earnest, that at last it was thought best to check it, lest he might injure his health. His attend- ance at school was therefore dispensed with, and he was for a while forbidden to study. At the aije of seventeen, it was decided that he should go to one of the universities. This deter- mination was adopted with some hesitation, since his mother had been strongly urged by some dis- tinguished lawyers to place him in the office of an eminent special pleader. He had already read the Abridgment of Coke's Institutions, and his friends thought that his learning and industry would insure him brilliant success at the bar. To this course he was himself opposed; and the strong advice of Dr. Sumner, added to certain consider- ations of economy, finally led to the wished-for decision. In the spring of 1764, he went to Ox- ford, and entered University College.* For the first few months of his residence at * The following form of his admission may be interest- ing to some. It is copied from his own writing. "Ego Gulielmus Jones, films unicus Gulielmi Jones, Armigeri de civitate Lond. lubens subscribo sub tutamine Magistri Betts, et Magistri Coulson, annos natus septemdecim." » SIR WILLIAM .lONKS. 2X1 Oxford, Mr. Jones was much disappointed at the course of instruction. He expected assistance and encouragement which he did not receive; the lectures seemed to him artificial and dull ; and all genial criticism, rhetoric, and poetry, as good as dead. This opinion he afterwards con- siderably modified. A testimony to his scholar- ship was soon given, by his being elected one of the four scholars on the foundation of Sir Simon Bennett. His love for Oriental literature began to revive. He resumed the Arabic, and was so earnest in the pursuit of it, that, having acciden- tally found in London a native of Aleppo, who could speak the vulgar Arabic fluently, he induced him to come to Oxford, in order that he might learn from him the pronunciation of the language. He hoped to induce other scholars to join with him, and so to diminish the expense ; but in this he failed, and he was obliged to maintain the Arab alone, at a time when he could ill afford the additional demand upon his finances. To the Arabic he soon added the Persian. Nor did he in the mean time neglect his old friends, the Greeks and Latins. The Greek poets and historians, and especially the writings of Plato, he carefully pe- rused ; reading, according to the advice of many eminent scholars, with pen in hand, ready to note down whatever struck him with greatest force, or to follow out the suggestions which he derived from them. With the Italian, Spanish, and Por- tuguese, he had become so familiar as to be able to read easily their best authors. Nor did he neglect physical education. He was always fond of bodily exercises, and pursued them syste- matically, both as invigorating his frame, and as mrft -24* — 282 SIR WILLIAM JONES. fitting him the better to endure the active exer- tions to which he might be called in future life. Thus, as he said, "with the fortune of a peasant, he gave himself the education of a prince." It is evident, that, for these extraordinary attain- ments, he was indebted to unwearying diligence and fidelity, quite as much as to natural capacity. While pursuing these courses of study at the university, he found that his necessary expenses were making large demands upon the limited income of his mother, and he thought it proper to look for some occupation that might relieve her of the burden. Whether or not this was known to his friends, we do not know ; but he soon received an invitation to become the private tutor of Lord Althorpe (afterwards Earl Spen- cer). This he concluded to accept, and, in his nineteenth year, in the summer of 1765, went to Wimbledon Park to undertake the education of his young pupil, at that time but seven years of age. During the next summer, 1766, he was very unexpectedly chosen to a fellowship at Oxford. This was extremely gratifying to him ; since, be- sides being an honorable testimony to his scholar- ship, it gave him what he thought an absolute independence. The income was indeed but a hundred pounds, but it was at that time sufficient for the expenses of a young man of prudent hab- its. A residence at Oxford too, with its ample libraries and society of learned men, was just what he most desired. Had it been offered to him a year earlier, it might have changed the whole course of his life. As it was, although he accepted the honor, he still continued in his situa- tion as tutor. 6t> J SIR WILLIAM JONES. 28JJ During this same year, he received from the Duke of Grafton, then at the head of the treas- ury, the offer of the post of Interpreter of Eastern languages, which, however, he did not accept. At Wimbledon, he found much to delight him ; but that which seemed to him of greatest value was a well-stored library, almost every volume of which he read, or to some extent examined. About this time, he began his Commentaries on Asiatic Poetry, after the manner of Dr. Lowth's Prelections on Hebrew Poetry. It will not be practicable, within the limits of this brief sketch, to follow minutely the course of this most diligent and distinguished young scholar. "We find nim the next year, 1767, during a visit to the continent, on which he accompanied the family of Lord Spenser, learning the German, at that time not considered an essential part of a thorough education. After his return home, in the same year, he nearly completed his Commen- taries, transcribed an Arabic manuscript w hich he had borrowed, and began to learn the Chinese. Another slight circumstance which took place about the same time, had an important bearing on his future pursuits. He happened to read, from curiosity, l. very old work by Fortescue, on the laws of England, in which the condition of the English is contrasted with that of other nations. The discussion opened to the ardent mind of the curious scholar a world of reflections. This was a subject upon which he had not thought, but one upon which his knowledge gave him the opportunity of collecting materials for a comprehensive and true judgment. From this time forward, his mind was interested in the great subject of Jurisprudence. it i* 284 SJR WILLIAM JONES. In the spring of the year 1768, he received a proposal of a singular nature, but one which showed how widely his reputation as a ripe scholar extended. The King of Denmark, then upon a visit to England, had brought with him an Eastern manuscript, containing the life of Nadir Shah, which he was desirous of having translated in England. The Secretary of State sent the volume to Mr. Jones, with a request that he would translate it into the French language. Mr. Jones declined ; but the application was renewed in such a form, and with so much urgency, that he was afraid of being thought morose or ill- natured, if he persisted in refusing. It would have been much easier for him to translate it into Latin ; and although he took great pains to acquire a good French style, he thought it necessary to submit every page to a native of France. The work, difficult as it was, requiring a critical knowl- edge of two languages, one of which was then hardly known in Europe, was finished in a year. Mr. Jones was not then twenty-four ! During the time that he was engaged upon this serious task, he was not unmindful of other things. For the same reasons, in part, which led him for- merly to practise horsemanship and fencing, he now took lessons in music. His idea of education was, that it should harmoniously develope all the pow- ers of mind and body, and enlarge to the utmost the field of our sympathy. He also began about the same time to extend considerably his literary acquaintance. One of those with whom he formed a friendship was Count Revicski, afterwards im- perial minister at Warsaw, and ambassador at the court of England. He was an accomplished SIR WILLIAM JONES. 285 scholar, and an ardent Orientalist. Mr. Jones corresponded with him for some time, chiefly in Latin, occasionally in French. During the summer of 1769, Mr. Jones had the pleasure of accompanying his young pupil to Harrow, and of enjoying again the society of his friend, Dr. Sumner. While there, he revised a Persian Grammar, which he had written some time before, and began a Persian Dictionary. He was led also, about the same time, to devote his attention more seriously to the evidences of the Christian religion. In order to form a better judgment, he determined to read the entire Bible in the original ; and his conviction became thereby the firmer of its authenticity and inspiration. The following, transcribed from his manuscript in his own Bible, has often been printed, but it is not on that account less worthy of inser- tion here. It contains his deliberate opinion, which he pronounced once, at least, before the Asiatic Society in India, of which he was founder and president. " I have carefully and regularly perused these Holy Scriptures, and am of opinion that the volume, independently of its divine ori- gin, contains more sublimity, purer morality, more important history, and finer strains of eloquence, than can be collected from all other books, in whatever language they may have been written." Although Mr. Jones's connection with the family of Lord Spencer was very agreeable, yet he began, after a time, to feel that his independent exertions were somewhat confined by his course of life ; and that, while relying upon the patronage of those with whom he was then connected, there was less scope for the vigorous and manly em- 28f> SIR WILLIAM JONES. ployment of his own abilities. He determined, therefore, to commence the study of the law, re solving to make the practice of it his profession. He did not, at first, think it necessary to forsake entirely his oriental pursuits, nor would it have been possible for him to do so in a moment. Literature had become a part of his life. Still, he devoted himself with great assiduity to the study of jurisprudence. His letters at this time show that his mind was divided between the two pursuits. " I have just begun," he writes on one occasion, " to contemplate the stately edifice of the laws of England — ' The gathered wisdom of a thousand years,' if you will allow me to parody a line of Pope. I do not see why the study of the law is called dry and unpleasant ; and I very much suspect that it seems so to those only who would think any study unpleasant, which required great appli- cation of the mind and exertion of the memory. * * * * I have opened two common-place books, the one of the law, the other of oratory, which is surely too much neglected by our modern speak- ers. * * * * But I must lay aside my studies for about six weeks, while I am printing my Grammar, from which a good deal is expected, and which I must endeavor to make as perfect as a human work can be. When that is finished, I shall attend the Court of King's Bench very constantly." In 1772, Mr. Jones was elected Fellow of the Royal Society. In 1774, he published his Com- mentaries on Asiatic Poetry. They had been finished for some years; but he delayed the print- ing, in order to submit them to the criticism of SIR WILLIAM J ONUS. 287 scholars. They were written in Latin, and com- manded the approbation of the learned every- where. Dr. Parr said of them, in a letter to the author, "I have read your book, De Poesi Asiatica, with all the attention that is due to a work so studiously designed, and so happily exe- cuted. * * * * The inaccuracies are very rare, and very trifling. On the whole, there is a purity, an ease, an elegance in the style, which show an accurate and most perfect knowledge of the Latin tongue. Your Latin translations in verse gave me great satisfaction. I am uncommonly charmed with the idyllium called Chrysis. The flow of the verses, the poetic style of the words, and the elegant turn of the whole poem, are admirable." In a letter to him about this time, we find Lady Spencer thanking him for his Andrometer. This was a kind of scale which Mr. Jones had pre- pared, indicating the occupation to which his life should be devoted, if protracted to the age of threescore years and ten. The first thirty years he sets apart for laying the foundation of future activity, by a wide and thorough course of study in the languages, sciences, history, &c. The next twenty, he devotes mainly to public and professional occupations. Of the next ten, five are assigned to literary and scientific composition, and the re- maining five to a continuation of former pursuits. The last ten he reserves for a dignified rest from labors, and enjoyment of the fruit of them, crown- ing the whole with a preparation for eternity. This sketch was rather a hasty methodising of his thoughts, than a sober statement of plans ; but it shows that he was not content to live at hap- hazard. Nor did he intend to defer a preparation 288 SIR "WILLIAM JONES. for eternity till the close of life, but rather to in- dicate, that, at the advanced period to, which he assigned it, this was the only subject which could with propriety engross the thoughts. As far as his own attainments were concerned, at the age when he made this sketch, he had far surpassed the limits which he had set for others. He was also destined to prove how vain are our plans for the future ; how fragile are the air-castles with which we adorn the later years of our transitory existence. Although we find, that with every year he felt the necessity of devoting himself without reserve to his profession, even to the extent of utterly abandoning his oriental studies, yet he could not entirely tear himself away from letters. He cor- responded with some of the most learned men on the continent. In 1778, he published a translation of a part of the orations of Isaeus. Nothing but exhausted health or spirits turned him from study. Even in the amusements to which he was occasionally driven, the eagerness of his spirit is exhibited. " I must tell you here, by way of parenthesis," he writes from Bath to Lord Al- thorpe, " that I joined a small party of hunters the other morning, and was in at the death of the hare ; but I must confess that I think hare-hunt- ing a very dull exercise, and fit rather for a hunt- ress than a mighty hunter — rather for Diana than Orion. Had I the taste and vigor of Ac- taeon, without his indiscreet curiosity, my game would be the stag and the fox, and I should leave the hare in peace, without sending her to her many friends. This heresy of mine may arise from my fondness for every thing vast, and my disdain of every thing little ; and for the same SIK WILLI \ M JONES, 289 reason, I should prefer the more violent sport of the Asiatics, who enclose a whole district with toils, and then attack the tigers and leopards with javelins, to the sound of trumpets and clarions." From suggestions made to him from various quarters, Mr. Jones supposed that he might re- ceive the appointment of judge in the East Indies, a post for which his legal as well as oriental learn- ing abundantly fitted him. This honor, however, which he earnestly desired, was not conferred till several years later. In the mean time, he pur- sued his profession with increasing success. In 1780, he was afflicted by the death of that mother who had devoted herself so entirely to his education, and had rejoiced so sincerely in his prosperity. Her love he repaid with equal affec- tion, and uniformly made her the confidant of his plans and hopes. During the same year, he made a memorandum of his proposed course of study, which, in addition to the Andrometer, before re- ferred to, will show how broad were his plans, and how thoroughly he meant to carry them out. The memorandum, in his own handwriting, was as follows : — " Resolved, to learn no more rudi- ments of any kind, but to perfect myself in, first, twelve languages, as the means of acquiring accu- rate knowledge of the I. History of 1. Man; 2. Nature. II. Arts. 1. Rhetoric; 2. Poetry; 3. Painting; 4. Music. III. Sciences. l.Law; 2. Mathematics ; 3. Dialectic. The twelve languages are Greek, Latin, Italian, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Hebrew, Arabic, Persian, Turkish, German, English. 1780." In March, 1783, the long-expected judgeship was conferred upon him. In expectation of it, -vorr-s. a& 290 SIR WILLIAM JONES. he had rather avoided a great increase of busi- ness at home, and had begun to feel the injury which the delay caused him. He was appointed a judge of the Supreme Court of Judicature at Fort William, in Bengal, and at the same time received the honor of knighthood. Being ren- dered, by this appointment, independent in his pecuniary relations, he consummated another ardent wish, in marrying the daughter of the Bishop of St. Asaph. In April of the same year, he embarked for India, in the Crocodile frigate. He never looked upon England again. He was thirty-seven years of age, in the full vigor of health, and abounding in hopes of honorable ser- vices and attainments in India. During his voyage out, he prepared another of those memoranda which indicate so strongly the habit of his mind, his forecast, and unwillingness to leave the future employment of his time to the accidental allurements of the day. A scholar undoubtedly makes the least advancement when he studies without method or plan. With a course marked out beforehand, and followed with perseverance, his attainments are enlarged and insured. The following is the memorandum re- ferred to : — Objects of Inquiry during my Residence in Asia. 1. The Laws of the Hindus and Mahomraedans. 2. The History of the Ancient World. 3. Proofs and Illustrations of Scripture. 4. Traditions concerning the Deluge, &c. 5. Modern Politics and Geography of Hindustan. 6. Best mode of governing Bengal. 7. Arithmetic and Geometry, and Mixed Sciences of the Asiatics. 8. Medicine, Chemistry, Surgery, and Anatomy of the Indians. SIR WILLIAM JONES. 291 9. Natural productions of India. 10. Poetry, Rhetoric, and -Morality of Asia. 11. Music of the Eastern Nations. 12. The Shi-King, or 300 Chinese Odes. 13. The hest accounts of Thihet and Cashmir. 14. Trade, Manufacture, Agriculture, and Commerce of India. 15. Mogul Constitution, contained in the Defteri, Alem- ghiri, and Agein Acbari. 16. Mahratta Constitution. To print and publish the Gospel of St. Luke in Arabic. To publish Law Tracts in Persian or Arabic. To print and publish the Psalms of David in Persian verse. To compose, if God grant me life, 1. Elements of the Laws of England. Model — The Essay on Bailment — Aristotle. 2. The History of the American War. Model — Thucydides and Polybius. 3. Britain Discovered, an Heroic Poem on the Consti- tution of England. -Machinery. Hindu Gods. Model — Homer. 4. Speeches, Political and Eorensic. Model — Demosthenes. 5. Dialogues, Philosophical and Historical. Model — Plato. 6. Letters. Model — Demosthenes and Plato. 12th Juiy, 1783. Crocodile Erigate. In September, after a prosperous voyage, Sir "William, as he was then called, landed at Cal- cutta, and in December of the same year entered upon his judicial duties. His reputation had pre- ceded him, nor were the public expectations dis- appointed by the first act of his public life, which was a charge to the grand jury at the opening of the sessions. As soon as his duties allowed him, he devised the plan of a society for carrying on researches to which the efforts of individuals were inadequate, and for preserving valuable 292 *IR WILLTAM JONES. tracts and essays. The presidency of this insti- tution was first offered to Warren Hastings, then Governor-General of India; and, on his declining it, Sir William Jones was elected to the office. He immediately commenced the study of the Sanscrit, both that he might better fulfil his duties as president, and still more, that he might be able to judge more accurately and independently of the Hindu law. In order to fulfil his plans of study, he found that a strict economy of time was absolutely demanded. Perhaps it was about this time that he improved upon Sir Edward Coke's division of time : — " Six hours in sleep, in law's grave study six, Four spend in prayer — the rest on nature fix." " Rather:' says Sir William, " Six hours to law, to soothing slumber seven, Ten to the world allot, and all to heaven." While at Calcutta, he found that the attraction of his conversation drew about him so many friends, that, gratifying as it was, his studies were much retarded by it. He therefore chose a country res- idence at not a great distance from the city, where he might sutler less interruption, and enjoy better health. The duties of the court, however, called him back again to town. u How long my health will continue in this town," he writes to a friend, " with constant attendance in court every morn- ing, and the irksome business of justice of peace in the afternoon, I cannot foresee. If temperance and composure of mind will avail, I shall be well ; but I would rather be a valetudinarian all my life, than leave unexplored the Sanscrit mine which I have just opened." " By rising before SIR WILLIAM JONES. 293 the sun," he says in another letter, " I allot an hour everyday to Sanscrit, and am charmed with knowing so beautiful a sister of Latin and Greek." While residing on the banks of the Ganges, at the distance of five mile-s from the court, it was his custom to rise so early in the morning as to walk to his apartments in town by the dawn of day, returning again in the evening after sunset. " It rarely happens," he writes to a friend, " that favorite studies are closely connected with the strict discharge of our duty, as mine happily are : even in this cottage, I am assisting the court, by studying the Arabic and Sanscrit, and have now rendered it an impossibility for the Mahommedan or Hindu lawyers to impose upon us with erro- neous opinions." A favorite project of his was to make a complete digest of Hindu and Mahommedan laws, after the model of the pandects of Justinian. The impor- tance of this was evident from the fact that the Hindu and Mussulman laws were written, for the most part, in Sanscrit and Arabic ; and he says, "My experience justifies me in declaring, that I could not, with an easy conscience, concur in a de- cision, merely on the written opinion of native lawyers, in any cause in which they could have the remotest interest in misleading the court : nor, how vigilant soever we might be, would it be very difficult for them to mislead us ; for a single ob- scure text, explained by themselves, might be quoted as express authority; though perhaps, in the very book from which it was selected, it might be differently explained, or introduced only for the purpose of being exploded." The work being beyond the resources of a private man, he, after 294 SIR WILLIAM JONES. some hesitation, applied to Lord Cornwallis, the Governor-General, for assistance from the State; or rather, setting forth the importance of the pro- ject, and offering his services, if they should be found to be of any value to the government. The otfer was gladly accepted by that enlightened officer; and Sir William immediately entered upon the performance of the duty, by selecting from the learned natives those whom he thought best qualified for the task, and by tracing out the plan of the digest, and prescribing its arrangement. In the beginning of 1794, he published a trans- lation of the Ordinances of Menu, a work upon which he had long been engaged, and which he considered of great interest, as exhibiting the manners of a very ancient people, as well as their moral and religious system, to which they have adhered down to the present time. Sir William's health was generally very good ; he often speaks of himself as having conquered the climate ; and even the severe and protracted labors which con- fined him in the court for six or seven hours a day, and to his chambers four or five hours more, did not overcome his constitution. Lady Jones, however, suffered so much from constant debility, that he persuaded her, after much urging, to re- turn to England. He would himself have accom- panied her, having spent ten years in India, if he had not felt bound to remain and complete his vol- untarily-assumed task of the digest of Hindu laws. He little thought, when she, in obedience to his repeated request, sailed about the first of the year 1794, that they were never to meet again. On the 20th of April, of the same year, having pro- longed his walk to a late hour, during which he STVt WILLIAM JONES. 295 had remained some time in conversation in an un wholesome place, he complained of symptoms of the ague. The disease soon proved to be an in- flammation of the liver, and in seven days he breathed his last, aged forty-seven years. The translation of the digest of Hindu law he did not live to complete. It was afterwards accomplished by one of the officers of the East India Company. The tidings of his death were everywhere re- ceived with sorrow; and the means taken, both in England and India, to testify respect for his mem- ory, were all that his friends could desire. His learning, as we have indicated, was vast. Al- though he turned his attention to languages with such distinguished success, yet he seemed to seize upon all knowledge with almost equal avidity. One of the last studies which he took up with interest was botany. He was accustomed to maintain that all were born with an equal ca- pacity for improvement ; and to a friend who asserted the contrary, and, in a few pleasant verses, supported his opinion by a reference to Sir William himself, he replied, almost im- promptu, modestly estimating his character in lines with which we may well close this sketch. " Ah ! but too well, dear friend, I know My fancy weak, my reason slow, My memory by art improved, My mind by baseless trifles moved. Give me (thus high my pride I raise) The ploughman's or the gardener's praise, With patient and unmeaning toil, To meliorate a stubborn soil ; And say (no higher meed I ask), With zeal hast thou performed thy task. Praise, of which virtuous minds may boast, They best confer who merit most." — - o PATRICK HENRY. Among the distinguished patriots of the Amer- ican Revolution, the name of Patrick Henry will never be forgotten, and never be refused a com- manding eminence. He was in the maturity of his powers when the Declaration of Independence was made, and had a full share of influence in bringing about that momentous event. He was among the most impassioned and effective of American orators, in a time fruitful of great men ; — he attained the highest office in the important State of Virginia ; — he held posts of extreme re- sponsibility connected with the government of the United States ; — and all this he effected through the almost unaided efforts of his own mind. Patrick Henry was the son of a Scotchman, a native of Aberdeen, who came to this country in the first part of the last century, and established himself in Virginia. He was one of nine children, born at Studley, in Hanover county, May 26, 1736. Mrs. Henry, his mother, was a native of Virginia, and distinguished for many virtues. Patrick was early sent to school, and made some progress in the common branches of an English education. His father endeavored to teach him Latin and Greek, but his success was entirely disproportionate to his wishes. The boy was de- voted to play ; he loved the sports of the field above every thing else, and could not be confined to the discipline of the school. He chose, how- ever, to pursue his sports alone rather than in PATRICK HENRY. 297 company, and would lie by the hour, under the shade of a tree, watching his line floating upon the quiet waters, the bait untouched by a single fish ; or when his party were chasing the deer, would station himself alone, so as to get a shot at the passing animal, without the ordinary tumult of the chase. This love of solitude, and his early habit of observing the character of those whom he was accustomed to meet, were the only traits which seemed to promise a future at all distin- guished. Nothing indicated what he was to be- come. " His person," says Mr. Wirt, " was rep- resented as having been coarse, his manners uncommonly awkward, his dress slovenly, his conversation very plain, his aversion to study in- vincible, and his faculties almost entirely benumbed by indolence. No persuasion could bring him either to read or to work." This picture is sufficiently dark ; and lest any one, in seeing afterwards the brilliant career of Mr. Henry, should be encouraged to early idle- ness, it should be borne in mind that this great man was not exempted from the stern law which affixes a penalty to every transgression. He was obliged to toil through years of early wretchedness and poverty; and, with all his success, could never entirely in after life supply the intellectual wastes of his youth. At fifteen years of age, his father placed him with a merchant in the country, that he might begin to earn his own bread, and the next year established him in trade, in company with another son, William. They did not succeed. The only good that seemed to come from the trial was, tbat it gave Patrick a wider opportunity to study the 298 PATRICK HENRY. more delicate shades of character in the persons of his customers. It is said that when a company of them were together in his shop, if they were talkative, the future orator would remain perfectly silent and listen ; but if dull, he would take upon himself to draw them out, would propose questions, suggest hypothetical cases, and relate stories, in order to observe the effects produced upon theii feelings, or their different methods in debate. In about a year the concern failed, and Patrick spent the next two or three years in winding up their affairs. Misfortune did not render him pru- dent, since we find him, at the age of eighteen, marrying the daughter of a farmer in the neigh- borhood, entirely respectable indeed, but unable to afford the young couple any effectual assistance. Undiscouraged, however, the young man obtained a small farm, which he cultivated in part with his own hands. His want of skill soon forced him to abandon this mode of life. In two years we 'find him selling off his farm at a sacrifice, and embark- ing every thing once more in merchandise. Again he was wrecked, and lost absolutely every thing. During this second experiment, however, his mind had become somewhat more serious. He began to read and to study. Geography and history be- came favorites with him. The charters and early records of the colonies, and the translations of ancient Greek and Roman historians, were dili- gently perused ; and his tenacious memory seized and retained all in them that was valuable. Having now failed in the pursuits which seemed naturally to attract him at first, with a buoyancy of, spirits and a resolution above all praise, and of themselves almost sure precursors of success, he / PATRICK HENRY. 299 turned his attention to the law. It was a last re- sort, and one in which there appeared very little to encourage his hopes. He devoted to this great study, the ridiculously brief period of six weeks, and then presented himself to the legal exam- iners for a license to practise. They hesitated ; one of them refused to examine him ; but after- wards, being of mild temper and perceiving evident marks of skill and talent in the young man, although he was lamentably deficient in knowledge of law, they gave the desired papers. He was now twenty-four years of age, ignorant of his profession, sure to be opposed, if he should ever venture into the courts, by men of generous attainments and great practical skill, with a family depending upon his exertions, and with the very smallest means of satisfying their wants. For three years, during which their distresses were very great, his practice could hardly supply them with the bare necessaries of life. But he was approaching the great turning point of his life. He had suffered long and severely, but now was about to experience a happier fortune. A warm controversy with the clergy had arisen in Virginia. The church of England was at this time the established church of the colony. An early act of the Assembly had decided that each minister of a parish should receive an annual salary of 16,000 pounds of tobacco. The gen- eral price of tobacco did not much vary from two pence the pound ; but the clergy were ac- customed to receive their stipend in the article itself, unless, for the sake of greater convenience, they commuted it for money. The year 1755 proved a bad one for the crop, and the price con- 300 PATRICK HENRY. sequent ly rose. An act was passed by the legis- lature authorizing the payment of all " tobacco debts," in money at the rate of " two pence the pound." This measure, though thought to be un- just, was not disputed, because it was limited in effect to one year. In 1758, however, the law was revived, upon a prospect of a small crop, and then the clergy determined to resist it. A war of pamphlets was carried on between them and the planters, which excited the strongest feelings on both sides. It was contended with evident jus- tice, that the act was entirely for the benefit of the planters, who received fifty or sixty shillings a hundred for their tobacco; "while they were permitted to pay their debts due in that article, at the old price of sixteen shillings and eight pence." The popular feeling was strongly against the clergy. The king, however, declared the act an usurpation and of no binding force. The cler- gy brought their suit against the collector of the county, and gained it; the judges giving their opinion against the act of 1758 ; and the question was then on the amount of damages. The lawyer who had thus far managed the case for the plan- ters, gave it up in despair. Mr. Henry was then applied to, and undertook to argue the cause at the next court. On the appointed day, the room was crowded. The clergy appeared in full force. Mr. Henry's father was the presiding magistrate. The counsel on the other side stated the case fully and fairly, and with much eloquence, greatly to the satisfaction of his clients. Mr. Henry rose in his turn, and, with awkwardness and a faltering tongue, stammered out his exordium. But soon every thing was changed. His attitude became PATRICK HENRY. 301 erect ; Lis countenance glowed ; the whole man became instinct with life; and in his tones there was a magic perfectly overwhelming. He seemed like a new creature, and bj his unexpected elo- quence absolutely swept along with him the audience, the jury, and the court. It was a tri- umphant exhibition of the power of feeling; for of argument there probably was very little. The clergy actually fled from the bench ; tears streamed down the cheeks of his father, who forgot every thing in the unexpected success of his son ; and the jury, disregarding the admitted rights of the plaintiff, returned a verdict of one penny damages. A motion was made for a new trial, but the court overruled it. No sooner was the cause decided than the people seized the successful advocate, bore him out of the court-house, and carried him about the yard on their shoulders in triumph. No record of this speech was preserved, and those who heard it could give little account of it. They only remembered its effects; and long afterwards, when they would praise a man for eloquence, were accustomed to say, " he is almost equal to Patrick, when he plead against the parsons" By this effort Mr. Henry became famous in that part of the colony, and every undecided case of the same kind was put into his hands. He, however, was still subjected to a trying struggle against want ; and, in the course of his practice, was often compelled to lament the deficiencies of his legal knowledge, for want of which, men, much his inferiors in general power, not unfrequently carried away the victory. Virginia exhibited at that time strong differ- ences between the various classes of society. vetr-rr: — 86 302 PATRICK HENRY. The wealthy and aristocratic landholders were separated, both in feelings and in manners, from the poorer yeomanry, who looked upon them with considerable jealousy. Mr. Henry sprang from the humbler class, and was ever regarded by the people as one of themselves. He was sometimes accused even of imitating their rude manners and outlandish accent for the sake of gaining the greater popularity. He had no need, however, of employing these unworthy arts, when his nobler natural gifts were amply sufficient to secure the love and confidence of those whom he was chosen to serve. Notwithstanding the general roughness of his appearance, and his deficiency in mere legal knowledge, and the occasional impropriety in his use or pronunciation of language, there was a charm about his speaking, even upon ordinary subjects, which was perfectly fascinating. Judge Lyons, of Virginia, was accustomed to say " that he could write a letter, or draw a declaration or plea, at the bar, with as much accuracy as he could in his office, under all circumstances, except when Patrick rose to speak ; but that, whenever he rose, he was obliged to lay down his pen, and could not write another word until the speech was finished." The years which immediately followed Mr. Henry's full success in legal practice, were the most eventful of his life, and among the most important in American history. In January, 1765, the fa- mous stamp act was passed by the British Parlia- ment. The object was to raise a revenue from the colonies ; the distant results were such as the most sagacious statesmen did not conjecture. PATRICK HENRY. 303 The intelligence of this procedure fell upon the colonies with disheartening effect. Resistance was hardly thought of; but the measure seemed fraught with great injury to a people who thus were liable to any amount of taxation by a gov- ernment in which they had no share, and which, at the best, was liable to misunderstand their ca- pacities and their disposition. On the rumor that such a measure was in anticipation, the House of Burgesses of Virginia prepared an address to the King, a memorial to the Lords, and a remon- strance to the House of Commons. The act, however was passed, to go into effect in Novem- ber, 1765. The House of Burgesses met again in May, and Mr. Henry was elected a member, partly for the purpose of adding the influence of his fervid eloquence to the proceedings which it was presumed would be entered upon in view of the emergency. The session, however wore away, and the lead- ers of the house, the gifted aristocracy of the State, brought forward no plan for expressing the feelings of the people.* In the mean time Mr. Henry had rendered himself obnoxious to the leading men, by opposing successfully a measure which they had brought forward relating to the financial affairs of the State. His eloquence was * It was during this session that General Washington received the public thanks of the house, for his conduct in the French and Indian Avar. In rising to express his ac- knowledgments for the honor, he was so much overcome with various feelings that he could not utter a word. The Speaker, Mr. Robinson, came to his relief by adding to his former remarks with great felicity — " Sit down. Mr. Wash- ington ; your modesty is equal to your valor, and that sur- passes the power of any language that I possess." 304 PATRICK HENRY. admired, but began to be feared. Such was the state of things, when, within three days of the close of the session, having waited in vain for the expected demonstration of others, he brought for- ward his resolutions on the Stamp act. They were brief, plain, and earnest, and asserted with great distinctness and strength the sole right of the inhabitants of the colony to tax themselves, and the danger to the liberty both of England and America, of vesting this power anywhere else. These famous resolutions were debated with great vigor; the more wealthy members and those highest in social distinction opposing them, partly on the ground that no answer had yet been re- ceived to their remonstrance of the preceding year. They were, however, carried, although by a majority of only one or two. Mr. Henry left town the same day ; and on the following morning, the strongest of the resolutions was repealed ; but the impression produced by the action of the As- sembly, and the eloquent discussion which pre- ceded it, spread through the country, and added immensely to the feeling of hostility with which the measure of the British Government began to be regarded. An anecdote is told of Mr. Henry during his vehement speech on the resolutions, which illustrates remarkably his peculiar powers. We give it in the words of his eloquent biogra- pher, Mr. Wirt. "It was in the midst of this magnificent debate, while he was descanting on the tyranny of the obnoxious act, that he ex- claimed, in a voice of thunder, ' Caesar had his Brutus, — Charles the First, his Cromwell, — and George the Third — ('Treason!' cried the PATRICK HENRY. 305 Speaker, — 1 treason ! ' ' treason ! ' echoed from every part of the house. It was one of those try- ing moments which is decisive of character. Henry faltered not for an instant ; but rising to a loftier attitude, and fixing on the Speaker an eye of the most determined tire, he finished his sen- tence with the firmest emphasis) may projit by their example. If this be treason, make the most of it." The stamp act was subsequently repealed, and the collision between the mother country and the colonies was for a time delayed. Although prominently before the country as a public man, Mr. Henry continued in active prac- tice of the law. For some of the duties of this great profession, he was remarkably fitted ; while, with respect to others, he was very deficient. " He never did and never could vanquish his aversion to the systematic study of the law." Hence it happened, that when contending on legal points, with men of distinguished abilities and at- tainments, he was very frequently vanquished. He could not adduce authorities, or, if he ven- tured to bring them forward, it not unfrequently happened, that he did it so unskillfully as to de- feat his own purpose. But in questions where natural justice, and the great principles of equity were concerned, the full vigor of his genius made itself felt. If he halted in arguments before the court, no sooner did he turn to the jury than every difficulty vanished. He was in his native element ; every spring of feeling he knew how to touch ; before the jury knew it, and spite of their resolu- tions to the contrary, he wound his silken cords about them, and led them wherever he pleased. ^ciLi-n. 20* 306 PATRICK HENRY. His voice was charming, Lis address delicate, insinuating, and without pretence or parade ; by a few masterly strokes he gave the character wished to the whole case, turned their minds from the unfavorable points, and lighted up with a splendid glow of color all that was favorable to his client. He was so accustomed to read the character in the face, that he rarely missed in his judgment of the jury; and his plastic power en- abled him to adapt his argument and appeal to their peculiarities, with almost unerring certainty. "The eighth day of the general court was formerly set apart for criminal business. Mr. Henry made little or no figure during the civil days of the court ; but on the eighth day, he was the mon- arch of the bar." The satisfaction felt in America at the repeal of the stamp act was of short continuance. It was soon perceived that the British Parliament had retracted none of their principles. Duties were imposed upon various articles of general use ; troops were quartered in some of the princi- pal cities, for the purpose of overawing the inhab- itants ; the port of Boston was shut up ; the leg- islatures of different states were dissolved, for opposition to the regal authority. In consequence of these, and many other acts, the home govern- ment came to be regarded with great dislike ; and although the idea of independence was not yet en- tertained, the minds of the people were gradually preparing for it. On the 4th of September, 1774, the old Con- tinental Congress met at Philadelphia. The most distinguished men in the country were pres- ent. Among the delegates from Virginia were PATRICK HENRY. .'507 George "Washington and Patrick Henry. In the proceedings of that venerable convention, Mr. Henry bore a distinguished part. So far as a strong and eloquent statement of the grievances of the colonies was concerned, he bore away the palm ; but when the convention proceeded to the plain details of business, he showed himself inferior to many others. He was appointed to draw up a petition to the king ; but when read, it was so far from meeting the general expectation, that it was recommitted, and subsequently another petition prepared by another member of the committee, was adopted. This was, perhaps, one of the mor- tifying results of his neglected early education. On returning from this Congress, Mr. Henry was asked who he thought the greatest man in the assembly ? " If you speak of eloquence," he re- plied, "Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, is by far the greatest orator ; but if you speak of solid information and sound judgment, Colonel Wash- ington is unquestionably the greatest man on that floor." So early did the minds of men become fixed with reverent affection upon him who is so well called The Father of his Country. The convention of Virginia delegates met for the second time, on the 20th of March, 1775. They assembled at Richmond. Mr. Henry was a member of the body, and one of the leading spirits of it. After various preliminary business, resolutions were introduced expressive of the feel- ings of the colonies, and ending with the hope of a speedy return of peace and quietness. These resolutions seemed to Mr. Henry altogether defi- cient in boldness; and he introduced another series, of which the last was as follows • " Resolved, Thai