F SKiilTCH of the Life and Char] acter of Hoger Minott Shennanj New Haven, 1846. #LlBl[AKY()FC(i\(;UES;S.J # $ ! UNITED STATKS UF AMERICA. T'^'O*"?^- liOGJBa MEK'OTT ^MiaiKMAN". (yiyiypf'^^'^ ^ ■ 9-^^^^^^ ta^t' J SKETCH LIFE AND CHARACTER OF THE LATE Hon. ROGER MINOTT SHERMxiN EXTRACTED FROM THE NEW EiNGLANDER, VOL. !V. 69 NEW HAVEN: PRINTED BY B. L. HAMLEN, Piinter to Yale College. 1846. 5t4 HON. ROGER MINOTT SHERMAN, The death of this distinguished man, spread a peculiar sensation throughout the wide sphere of his fame. The death of all worthy men is indeed lamented as far as their character is known, and their influence felt. This grief deepens and extends itself, in proportion to the importance of the stations they have worthily filled, the good they liave accomplished, the fair fame they have won. But beyond the sacred enclosure of private friend- ship, these feelings quickly give way to the conviction that others will soon be raised up to fill their places ; that the wheels of society will move onward without material hindrances, and not want fit instru- ments for propelling them forward in their proper course. But there is an order of men, " few and far between," whose departure diffuses a degree of sorrow, which is not fully assuaged by such reflections. They are the men of real great- ness, whose equals we rarely see, and who, in their generation, shine as suns amid the lesser lights of the intellectual sky. Others may arise in their place, to be the leaders and supports of the people, the strong pillars and ornaments of the church and the state. But every really great man has qualities, or a com- bination of qualities, which are pecu- liarly his own : which are singular, unique, inimitable, and shed about him a sort of luster and fragrance, which is altogether unrivaled. They who have been wont to admire this " individuality of genius," look in vain for any thing twin to it in any other person, however eminent or peerless in his own way ; and when it vanishes, they are discon- solate in their grief, never expect- ing to behold again the same com- bination of intellectual and moral qualities. Judge Sherman was one of that sort of men, whose death has wide- ly diffused this species of sorrow. Although we may see his equals or superiors, yet we do not expect again to see greatness in the same shape and aspects, exhibiting the same hues and proportions in every part, the same principles, man- ners and habits, in a like majestic and venerable person. As it is our instinct, in such a case, to perpetu- ate the external figure in such a faint image as art can impress upon the lifeless canvass, so we endeavor to give a posthumous duration to his intellectual and moral greatness, by sketching its features to the best of our ability, in definite and enduring records. The feeling that such a Hon. Roger Minotl Sherman. tribute is due to the high qualities of Mr. Sherman, and will profit those who survive him, is as just, as it is widely extended beyond the circle of private friendship. We propose, therefore, to present a condensed view of his character, and such an analysis of the elements and sources of his strength, as the space we can consistently allot to this purpose will permit. The Hon. Roger Minott Sher- man was the son of the Rev. Josiah and Martha Sherman. He was born at VVoburn, Mass., May 22, 1773, and was the youngest of six chil- dren. His father was brother to the Hon. Roger Sherman of revolu- tionary celebrity, who will ever be illustrious as one of the most emi- nent of the signers of the Declara- tion of Independence. He was in the fourth generation of descent from Capt. John Sherman who em- igrated from Dedham, England, to AVatertown Mass., about the year 1635. His mother was daughter of the Hon. .lames Minott, of Concord, Mass., a man of eminence in his day. She was in the fifth line of descent from George Minott who came from England, and was one of the first settlers of Dorchester, Mass., and a ruling elder in the church planted there. The unset- tled and tumultuous state of society during the Revolution, rendered the situation of many clergymen preca- rious and unsettled. The father of the subject of this notice came to Milford in this state in 1775, and was for some time pastor of the second church in that town. He thence removed to Goshen, and for some years ministered to the church in that place. He finally settled in Woodbridge, and continued in the ministry there the residue of his days. These changes occurring du- ring the childhood and youth of his son, the latter, of course, accompa- nied him through these migrations. We have no knowledge that during this period of his life he exhibited any peculiar traits or indications, or that any events occurred respect- ing him worthy of record. It most indeed have been apparent, that his mind was of a superior order. Nor did he contract any habits unfriend- ly to intellectual growth and culture. His character was unstained by vice. He had the stimulus of judi- cious parental training, and, what is often still more effective, of pov- erty, to make the most of his facul- ties and opportunities. In 1789, when sixteen years old, he entered the Sophomore class in Yale College. Six weeks afterwards his father died, leaving his family destitute, as his salary had barely been adequate to his support. But it is seldom that any obstacles or difficulties can arrest or prevent the education of a first rate mind. A kind Providence will usually con- spire with its own resolute deter- mination, and untiring efforts to sur- mount all obstacles, and give it the advantage of the most perfect dis- cipline and culture. His uncle, Roger Sherman, of illustrious mem- ory, received him into his family, and aided him to the extent of his ability. During the last two years of his academic course, he resorted to teaching in New Haven, in order to obtain the means of defraying his expenses. But he so arranged the hours of his school, that it did not prevent his regular and punctual at- tendance on all the College exerci- ses, nor his maintaining a high rank as a scholar. After the completion of his aca- demic course, he immediately com- menced the study of law. For this purpose he placed himself under the tuition of the most celebrated jurist in the state, and contrived, mean- while, to support himself by teach- ing. For the first two years after his graduation, he taught an acade- my in Windsor, and studied law with the Hon. Oliver Ellsworth, who was among the greatest of the great men of that period, and for Hon. Roser Minott Sherman. some time Chief Justice of the Su- preme Court of the United States. He next studied in the otTice of the late Judge Reeve, of Litchfield, and paid his current expenses by teach- ing' a common school. But superior talent can not long be cramped for want of reasonable facilities for its full development. In March, 1795, he was chosen tutor in Yale College, and became the instructor of the class that gradua- ted in 1797. He continued the study of law under the Hon. Sim- eon Baldwin, who still survives his distinguished pupil. He retained his tutorship until May of the fol- lowing year, when, having been a short time previous admitted to the bar in New Haven, he resigned the office, and located himself as a practicing lawyer at Norwalk, Conn. In the office of tutor, he displayed decisive tokens of those high quali- ties and endowments, which raised him to subsequent fame. He suc- ceeded the late Judge Gould in the charge of the class which he in- structed. The elegant scholarship, the lucid logic, the exquisite taste, the rhetorical finish, as well as the urbane and graceful manners, for which this gentleman was distin- guished, are still remembered by many of our readers. It was, there- fore, a somewhat hazardous position for a new incumbent, unless he was thoroughly furnished for his place. In the following sketch of Mr. Sher- man's career as tutor, communicated by a member of the class under his tuition to Rev. Dr. Cooley of Gran- ville, Mass., we see that those same qualities of mind and heart, which made him eminent through life, made him so in this station. " His first ap- pearance, owing to his extreme mod- esty, was not imposing. To say that he was unassuming, is not saying the whole truth. He seemed diffident to a degree hardly compatible with a station which required the exercise of authority, as well as the commu- nication of instruction. No dispo- sition, however, was at any time manifested to make a comparison with his predecessor in office disad- vantageous to the new incumbent ; and, in a short time, it was found that none could be made. Such was his perfect acquaintance with the studies of his pupils, his eleva- ted and comprehensive views, and his clear and happy method of giv- ing instruction, combined with the unfeigned friendliness of his man- ner, that his influence operated as efficiently and more benignly than any exercise of authority could have done. He encouraged much oftener than he reproved ; but when reproof was necessary, he adminis- tered it in I such a manner as to leave the subject of it more his friend than he was before. He re- mained in this situation somewhat more than a year, enjoying the en- tire confidence of the trustees of the College, and of his associates in the faculty, the affi^ctions of his pupils, and the respect of all." During his tutorship he joined the church in Yale College. As this was the period when his religious opinions and feelings became set- tled, and took that determinate and fundamental bias which they re- tained through life, it is proper to record, briefly, what is known of his history in relation to this subject. We have every reason for believing that, during his childhood and youth, he enjoyed the wisest Christian training and nurture, and was sur- rounded by the most pure and pro- pitious Christian influence. His fa- ther was an able and popular min- ister of the old New England stamp. His mother was a lady of rare strength of mind and excellence of charac- ter. It could scarcely be otherwise than that such parents should, in the most judicious and effective way, bring up their children in the nur- ture and admonition of the Lord. That they did so, we infer from the high Christian character of their children, from the reverential man- 6 Hon. Roger Minott Sherman. ner in which Mr. Sherman was wont to allude to them ; and still more decisively, from the fact that his piety was of that solid, symmetrical, discriminating cast, which rarely ap- pears in one who has not " from a child known the Holy Scriptures." One of his sisters married the Rev. Justus Mitchell, of New Canaan, an excellent minister, who, like many of the most eminent clergy- men of that period, ohtained a por- tion of his support by teaching. While preparing for College, and subsequently during his vacations, until he was settled in life, Mr. Sher- man was much in his family. In the family of his uncle, also, and while studying law, he was under the influence of the highest models of Christian character, of men who were pillars and ornaments of the church as well as the slate. But at this portentous period, when the shock of the French revolution agi- tated, and the poison of French in- fidelity tainted the whole civilized world, the infection spread exten- sively in this country. Infidelity was fast growing into fashion with young men of rank and education. Multitudes thought the profession of it to be essential to a reputation for intellectual independence, and the only way of escaping the reproach of mental servility and vulgarity. Another cause of the prevalence of this spirit, was the general deprava- tion of the public mind by the pro- tracted war of the Revolution. But to whatever cause it may have been due, infidelity had at this period a most disastrous prevalence in Yale College. Says Prof. Kingsley, in his life of Dr. Dvvight, " the degree to which it prevailed may be con- jectured from the following fact. A considerable proportion of the class which he (Dr. Duight) first taught, Jjad as?;umed the names of the prin- cipal English and French infidels, and were ntore familiarly known by them than by their own." As Dr. Dwiglit became president shortly af- ter Mr. Sherman became tutor, it is clear that the whole education of the latter must have been pursued in the midst of this pestilential atmos- phere. Nor was he wholly unaf- fected by it. Although he was nev- er swerved from his habitual purity of life and manners, yet he was for a time, during his collegiate course or soon afterwards, shaken by the ingenious sophistry of Hume ; a writer who by his precision and per- spicuity of style, his dialectic skill and subtilty, was peculiarly fitted to awaken the admiration of a youth- ful mind, in which the logical fac- ulty was predominant. But this skeptical aberration was transient. It put him in a position so uncon- genial with the whole structure and genius of his mind, with the whole scope of his early impressions, his tastes and predilections, that he could no more be held to it than a sturdy oak momentarily bent from its upright attitude by a tornado. He soon found in studying Edwards, that a profounder metaphysical sa- gacity than Hume''s had been brought to the support and triumphant vindi- cation of divine truth. Dr. Dwight, too, no sooner took charge of the College, than he put forth his gigan- tic strength in battling and crushing the rampant deism which prevailed among the students. Of his elo- quent discourses then delivered on this subject, we have often heard Mr. Sherman express the most fer- vent admiration. His original reli- gious opinions returned with new strength of conviction. Me was not only confirmed in his belief of them, but he fell their truth experimental- ly. They were im])rcssed on him " with the demonstration of the Spir- it and of power." He became in the judgment of charity a true Chris- tian. He made profession of his faith by joining the College church, and through a long life held fast his profession, a shining example of Christian excellence. But we will not dwell on this subject, as we shall Hon. Ro^er Minott Sherman. revert to it again wlien we come to give an estimate of his whole charac- ter, after having completed the nar- rative of the chief events of his life. He ^as married to Miss Elizabeth Gould, Dec. 13, 1796. She was the daughter of Doctor William Gould, formerly of Branford, but at that time of New Haven, and sister of the late Hon. James Gould of Litch- field. With this gifted and estima- ble lady, who still lives to mourn his loss, he was united for near half a century, in the enjoyment of great conjugal and domestic happiness, terminated only by his death. The only issue of the marriage was two sons, born Oct. 18, 1799. Their names were James Minott, and Will- iam Gould. They were children of extraordinary promise, and had no blight overtaken them, we know not why the celebrity of the father would not have been perpetuated in his sons. They both displayed from infancy rare intellectual and moral qualities. They were conscientious, and had a religious and devotional turn to a degree seldom witnessed in childhood. They showed uncom- mon brilliancy, vigor, and buoyan- cy of mind, a strong love of study, of the exact sciences, and of ele- gant literature. But in God's mys- terious providence, they were both smitten, before the high hopes which they reasonably excited could be realized. James M. had progressed in his studies with remarkable rapidity till the age of fifteen, when he became the subject of strong religious im- pressions. Owing to an unfortunate circumstance which occurred at an important crisis in his spiritual ex- ercises, they degenerated into a fix- ed and incurable melancholy. This at length disordered and consumed his mind, till it issued in decided insanity. After medical skill had done its utmost, the distemper still remained, with occasional abate- ments and lucid intervals. It was during one of these intervals that he entered the class in Yale College which graduated in 1825. He was obliged by a recurrence of his mal- ady to take a dismission before the close of his Freshman year ; but while he remained, we understand, on the testimony of one of his class- mates, that he stood without a rival among them, especially in the de- partment of mathematics. Almost daily he engaged, at the recitations, in discussions with his tutor upon principles and methods of solving arithmetical and algebraical ques- tions altogether beyond the appre- hension of most of his classmates. This was a decisive test of what he would have become, if he had re- tained unimpaired for life the origi- nal powers of his mind. He died in Bloomingdale Asylum, Aug. 8, 1833. Those who knew him best had the highest confidence in his Christian character, and that, hav- ing put off this tabernacle in which he groaned, being burdened, he was clothed upon with the shining robes of immortality. Thus those parental hopes which had been rais- ed to the highest pitch were blasted. In place of them arose a long and severe trial of his parents' faith, patience, and resignation. But they had this consolation to assuage their grief over his untimely decay, that he was endowed with a portion su- perior to all worldly riches, a glory resplendent above all earthly hon- ors. William G. died at Fairfield, Aug. 15, 1838. He was early prostrated in a manner ditTerent from his broth- er, but still not less peculiar and af- flictive. When four years old, he was seized with epileptic fits. These returned upon him periodically till his death. They produced a grad- ual, at first imperceptible, but in the end decisive decay of his bodily and mental powers. He was never insane. He was rather enfeebled and paralyzed as to the operations of his mind. He united with the church in Fairfield in 1815, His 8 Hon. Roger Minott Sherman. first religions impressions- can not be traced to any assignable date. From infancy he exliibited a con- scientious fear of God, which never forsook him, and signs of true piety which brightened until the day of his death. The most skeptical nev- er doubted his piety, however rudely they might stigmatize the generality of Christians as hypocrites. His conceptions of Christian truth and duty were remarkably just, exact, and discriminating. His conscience was tender and scrupulous to a de- gree almost morbid. In his case, the new creature in Christ remained sound, healthy, and entire, amid the total wreck of his natural powers. In death he doubtless departed to be with Christ, where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. Thus, the untimely blight of these sons of promise, came with the alleviations of hope, and paren- tal grief was softened by the bright prospects of the beloved dead. In 1807 Mr. Shercnan transferred his residence from Norwalk to Fair- field, where he remained till his death. Here he was a chief pillar in church and society. He exercis- ed a powerful and beneficent influ- ence in all ecclesiastical, civil and social concerns. fHe she^ a dignity ( an3~Tuster over the society of the ■place, and gave importance and fame to the town and county. He had practiced law but a short time before his eminence in his pro- fession was universally felt and ad- mitted. Nor would it have been otherwise, had he begun his career in any age or country. He brought to the bar an extraordinary combi- nation of qualities fur success. His mind was of the highest order — dis- tinguished for logical acuteness, clas- tic energy, and indefatigable appli- cation. His person was dignified and conmianding. His elocution was sonorous, graceful, and impres- sive. His manners courteous and winning. His life was unsullied, and his character not only unim- peachable, but of great weight. His fidelity to his clients and devotion to his cases, were thorough and un- varying. Hence he forthwith rose to the first rank in his pro^ssion, and before his death was confessed- ly without an equal as a practitioner at law in his own state. His busi- ness rapidly increased, till in his own and other counties of the state, and in great cases in other states, he was tasked to the full extent of his abilities. In this practice he continued through life, except when withdrawn from it to official stations, or prevented by sickness. In politics, Mr. Sherman belong- ed to the school of Washington, Jay, Hamilton, Ellsworth, and his illus- trious uncle. While men of this stamp were ascendant in Connecti- cut, he was rising in political dis- tinction as rapidly as in the legal profession. While yet young, he was summoned to important public stations, and honored with the re- spect and confidence of the leading statesmen of that period ; being re- garded by them as a rising star of the first magnitude. In 1814 he was chosen a member of the upper branch of the legislature — a body then composed of our most able statesmen. Few elective bodies have so seldom changed their mem- bers. Whoever was once elected to it, retained his place until he for- feited it by mal-conduct, or was raised to a higher office. And in those days, a nice regard was had to merit in the allotment of these and all other public offices. When this is the fact, a senate of twelve, virtually permanent, is sure to be composed of the most gifted men. In illustration of the scrupulous re- gard which was had to actual merit in the popular election of senators, we have often heard Mr. Sherman say, that of the whole number nom- inated, there was one man who at each election for several years was almost but not quite elected ; and this exactly represented his actual Hon. Roser Minott Sherman. 9 merit in comparison with his rival candidates. And whatever may be said of other changes, it will hardly be claimed, that in this respect, po- litical measures have since changed for the better. Mr. Sherman re- mained in this body until 1818, when the present state Constitution was adopted, the federal party was pros- trated, its leaders for a time ostra- cized, or virtually branded as ineli- gible to official stations. While he was a member of the legislature, he displayed such a devotion to the true interests of the state, such abil- ity in striking out, drafting and ad- vocating important measures ; in short, such high statesmanship, that he at once took the first rank among his associates. At this time he was compelled by his private circum- stances to decline a nomination to Congress which his political friends proposed to procure for him. Al- though yet young, he was chosen by the legislature a member of the convention of delegates of the New England states, which convened at Hartford in 1814. He drafted the report of the committee of the le- gislature, recommending a delega- tion to that convention, an able and eloquent document. No convention that ever assembled in this country has met at a more appalling crisis, or upon weightier business. The predominant party in New England was thoroughly alarmed, and sent to it none but her most gifted and trusted men. Whatever may be thought of the doings and tendency of that convention, into which we have at present no space to inquire, the patriotic and honorable designs of such men as Mr. Sherman can not be questioned. In this body he displayed ihat assiduity, penetration, wisdom in deliberation, and elo- quence in debate, for which he had previously established a reputation. The public have had reason to de- plore and abhor the rancor of party feeling which strove to make mem- bership in this convention a re- proach, and drove many of the ex- cellent and gifted men who compos- ed it from the future service of their country in those public stations for which they were qualified. In this way Mr. Sherman was deprived of many marks of public favor which none could deny his title to ; but the state was the greatest sufferer. Notwithstanding this obstacle to his political advancement, Mr. Sher- man's integrity and purity, com- manding intellect, and impressive eloquence, won for him among the pure and intelligent portion of the people a high degree of confidence, admiration, and celebrity, and rais- ed him to some honorable official distinctions. His own town, though of opposite politics, occasionally, when important interests were pend- ing, elected him as its representa- tive in the legislature. Towards the close of his life, in May, 1839, he was chosen by the legislature an as- sociate judge of the Supreme Court of the state. During the same ses- sion, he was earnestly supported as a candidate for the United States senate; and it is believed that if he had fully harmonized with the dom- inant party on some prominent points of public policy, he would have been elected. We have often heard it observed by those qualified to judge, that in this body his rank would have been scarcely inferior to that of Cal- houn, Clay, and Webster, had he like them devoted the most of his life to the affairs of state. He fill- ed the office of judge with signal and preeminent ability, as his print- ed opinions in volumes 13th ^nd 14th of the Connecticut Repoi^ abundantly show. We lament that ' these are the most important monu- ments of his mind which he has left behind him. In the spring of 1842 he resigned this office on account of ill health. He now wanted but a single year of threescore and ten. Up to this time he had never been disabled by any serious indisposition from the most arduous professional 10 Hon. Roger MinotL Sherman. service. But his bodily health and vigor now began to show a sensible decay. With successive alternations of prostration and recovery, he pass- ed the residue of his days amid those genial supports and solaces, which home alone can supply to sinking and expiring nature. But while his material part decayed, his intellectual and spiritual part re- mained sound and unimpaired. His eye was not dim, neither was his natural force abated. His mind re- tained its crystal clearness and elastic vigor to the end. It showed no faltering or staggering in grap- pling with adversaries the most adroit and powerful, and with sub- jects the most intricate and mazy. It was observable also, that during this period his Christian graces were matured and brightened to an unu- sual luster ; as we are divinely as- sured that the path of the just is as the shining light, shining more and more unto the perfect day. He died in the serene hope of a bless- ed immortality, Dec. 30, 1844, at the age of seventy one years and seven months. Deep and loud was the wail of lamentation over this event, the echoes of which have not yet died away. His funeral pre- sented a sublime and imposing spec- tacle. Unadorned by artificial pomp or pageantry, it was august and im- pressive far beyond such tinsel dis- play. In a small rural village, in the depths of winter, an immense concourse of people gathered to pay their last and spontaneous tribute to departed greatness and worth. There were the three ministers who had been successively his pastors, ofliciating in the funeral solemnities. There were the dignitaries of the state, his venerable associates in professional and public life. There was the church, the ecclesiastical societ}', the connnunity to which he belonged, — mourning over the loss of a chief pillar, on which they had long leaned for support. There were the humble and obscure, lamenting the demise of one whose greatness they admired, whose goodness they revered, by whose benignity they had been cheered and allured. From the sanctuary in which he had wor- shiped for near forty years, the vast procession moved at the bid- ding of the knell to the house ap- })ointed for all the living. He was laid in the grave just as the bright sun sunk beneath the western hori- zon. And it was beautifully said, that the setting sun would not more certainly rise again, than the body then committed to the dust would rise on the morning of the resur- rection clad in vestments of immor- tal splendor. We will now attempt a brief es- timate of Mr. Sherman's character and talents, as displayed in every sphere in which he moved. To say that he had a mind of ex- traordinary power, is simply to say what is conceded by all who knew him. Were we to delineate its pe- culiar features, we should fix upon his logical powers as the most char- acteristic and prominent. This was the base on which his whole intel- lectual superstructure rested, and from which it derived its adaman- tine strength and solidity. Nothing could be more palpable to one fa- miliar with him, than that his mind played with the greatest ease and nimblcness when it was put upon a course of direct and pure argumen- tation. When summoned to con- front and expose ingenious sophis- try, to fathom the profound, to dis- entangle the intricate, to unveil the occult and abstruse, — it sprang to the work without apparent effort, as a pleasure, we had almost said as a recreation. It seized the truth of which it was in quest, and threaded the mazes where sophistry had sought to hide it, with spontaneous ease and intuitive certainty. Nor was he content till he had hunted the fallacy of a deceptive argument out of all its lurking places, and Hon. Ro^er Minott Sherman. 11 silenced his antagonist by making its absurdity palpable. He would not rest till it was clear that the ar- gument involved some proposition so plainly false, that none could have a face to contend for it. In his positive arguments, he would seize upon some admitted and un- questionable truth, which virtually involved the point at issue, and from this truth, which perhaps at first sight would seem to many entirely irrele- vant, he would by a series of steps as regular and concatenated as the demonstrations of Euclid, educe the proposition which he had underta- ken to maintain. And when he thus reached his conclusion, he sur- prised as well as confounded his an- tagonist by the dexterous, rapid, un- locked for manner in which it was done. He was fond of giving to all his arguments somewhat of the air of a mathematical demonstra- tion, in respect to certainty and pal- pable conclusiveness. This high logical power was conspicuous in his arguments at the bar, and gave a distinctive and characteristic hue to all the productions of his mind. In public addresses, political, reli- gious, and benevolent, in unpretend- ing religious exhortation, in conver- sation, in every attempt to impress his fellow men, his observations would invariably cast themselves in- to a logical or argumentative shape. He would not merely labor to pro- duce a favorable impression in be- half of the view he was advocating, but he would endeavor to do it ly a demo7ist.ration of its truths by sta- ting some admitted premise, from which he showed his views to be in- evitable sequences. Or if he were laboring to impress some admitted but unfelt truth, he would still de- monstrate lioio and loherein it sur- passed in magnitude and importance its influence over us. This trait of his mind gave him a peculiar apti- tude and fondness for metaphysical discussions, always excepting the dreamy transcendentalism of Fichte and his successors. So far as met- aphysics have been infused into the- ological discussions, he was at home in the dialectics of the schools, and was ready to grapple with the most astute of the metaphysico-theologi- ans. It is needless to add, that this characteristic trait of his mind qual- ified him to master with ease the subtleties and intricacies, the hair- breadth distinctions and broad prin- ciples, which intermingle in the pro- fession to which he devoted his life, and to reach an eminence in it which few are privileged to gain. With this rare logical penetration, his mind was distinguished for that clearness in conception, thought, and reasoning, without which, how- ever one may be an artful sophist, he can not be a good reasoner. His mind was remarkable for the sustained vigor of its movements. Others may have surpassed him in meteoric brilliancy, or occasional displays of unnatural, spasmodic energy. Few could equal him in the steady, unflagging, never-failing vigor of his mental operations. His powers never faltered or grew weary under any degree of pressure. How- ever intense had been his applica- tion to the most perplexing or wea- risome cases, however fatigued or debilitated in body, his mind never lost or relaxed its tone, its buoyan- cy, its activity. After the most ex- hausting application, it was still un- exhausted, and would spring instant- ly to any subject set before it. Hence he had an unusual power of intense and protracted applica- tion. As in his case study was not wearisome or oppressive, so it was habitual, thorough, and uninterrupt- ed. He could hold his mind in pa- tient and fixed attention to any sub- ject until he had mastered it. Nor did he fail to put this talent to use. This mental trait is so essential to success and eminence, that without it all his other gifts would have been abortive. The imagination, though not 12 Ho7i. Roger Minott Sherman, strongly developed, was yet in due proportion in the structure of his mind. That he had no strong taste for the poetical and fanciful, is beyond a doubt. That a higher measure of wliat Wordsworth calls " the vision and faculty divine," would have given to his rnind great- er ardor and brilliancy, to his elo- quence a more impassioned and glowing fervor, — that thus his lo- gic would oftener have been so heated as not only to enlighten and convince, but to kindle and melt, — is not improbable. But still, this faculty was ever ready and fer- tile enough to supply an ample stock of apposite illustrations, which add- ed clearness and cogency to his ar- guments. To any higher develop- ment of it, the whole nature of le- gal f)ractice is unpropitious. But if there was any tiling here which minute criticism would de- tect, it was rarely felt, for its place was supplied by another quality, which he possessed in a remark- able degree ; we mean a confidence in the truth of what he advocated, almost amounting to enthusiasm, and in his ability to render that truth evident and conspicuous to others. Hence he became earnest and ardent in his manner of speak- ing, and commonly threw into his speeches the fervid glow, the ve- hement, impetuous, overwhelming movement, of impassioned elo- quence ; and often would rise and swell from the even current of his logic, till he overflowed all the ar- tificial embankments of rhetorical precision, and swept away all obsta- cles like a cataract. In this he was aided by his ready command of a rich, classical, sonorous diction. His preparations for public speaking seldom if ever extended to the lan- guage he used. But it was because he was never at a loss for choice, exact, and felicitous words without it. Nor was this a merely natural or fortuitous gift. It was the effect of thorough intellectual discipline, and of assiduous culture. He was in early life a fine classical scholar, and never lost his relish and admiration for those great " masters of senten- ces," the Latin and Greek classics. He had carefully studied some of the English authors most distinguished for perspicuity, terseness, and ele- gance of style. Probably most who have been accustomed to hear him, would say that he generally stood alone among his associate practition- ers, in uniformly sustaining a chaste, dignified, and fluent diction. If we might assign it to any distinct order of style, we should pronounce it Ci- ceronian, it was so free and flowing, yet polished and accurate. To the utterance of such a dic- tion, his voice was remarkably fit- ted. Its articulation was easy and distinct, its tones full, clear, and me- lodious. When it was attuned to the right pitch, and inspired by his kindling interest in his subject, its discourse was music. And as the fire burned within him, it waked him to that energy and emphasis in tone and gesture which are insepa- rable from genuine eloquence. Nor was the effect of the whole unaided by his dignified and impressive per- sonal appearance ; which in his countenance and whole bodily fig- ure was lofty and commanding. It bespoke the man himself, whose qualities were translucent through it. He was not incapable of humor and satire, with exquisite sallies of which he sometimes enlivened his addresses, and so relieved by a gay and sprightly turn, the sturdy march of his logic. This power however he used sparingly, and seldom with severity, except in way of retort ; when its salient flashes were struck from him by this sort of collision, they were often consuming and fa- tal. When, in reply to an oppo- nent, he had said, "you might as easily split a hair as make such a distinction," and that opponent spor- tively held up one plucked from his own head partially bisected, he re- Hon, Roger Minott Sherman. 13 joined, " I did not say a bristle, sir." He did not confine bis studies to his own profession. He liberalized bis mind by an acquaintance with the sciences and arts generally ; es- pecially such as-could be made trib- utary to his profession. He often astonished and delighted men of other professions, as he exhibited to them the extent and accuracy of his knowledge in their respective de- partments. In cases at court, which could be elucidated by exhibiting the principles of any science, he sel- dom failed to show his advantage. Hence, he was peculiarly successful and eminent in patent cases, and in all cases depending on the principles of medical jurisprudence. From his frequent employment in patent cas- es, and consequent examination of the ingenious inventions of the coun- try, he became deeply interested in the application of science to the arts. He exhibited a high talent for mechanical inventions. Had he been a practical mechanic, we have no doubt he would have distinguish- ed and enriched himself in this way. Within the last ten years he invent- ed a steam engine which produced a rotary, without the intervention of a reciprocating motion. Although it has never been sufficiently per- fected for practical purposes, it may yet prove to be an invention of great and lasting utility. As a JURIST, we have pretty fully described him in the portrait we have already drawn of the qualities of his mind. Indeed his intellectu- al were so blended with his legal productions, that it was hardly pos- sible to portray the qualities of his mind, without giving his traits as a lawyer. It may be added, that these high endowments raised him to an eminence almost peerless in every department of legal practice. He was great as a counsellor, great in pleas before the jury, and in pleas before court. But it should be ob- served also, that his greatness ap- peared just in proportion to the diffi- culties and perplexities he had to en- counter. He proportioned his efforts to the magnitude and difficulties of his case. He said but little when little need be said, and showed his great- ness by knowing and stopping when he had said enough — a habit which many of our public speakers would do well to learn. It was only in abstruse and complicated questions of law that his full strength appear- ed, and that his extraordinary logic- al powers were brought into full ex- ercise. Here he most excelled, and was most unrivalled. To unravel knotty points, to educe some great principle from a chaos of decisions, to trace to its origin, or analyze into its elements, a doctrine of law which seemed adverse to him, were pro- cesses as easy to him as multiplica- tion and division in arithmetic. His acumen, penetration, and ready mas- tery of the most involved cases, to- gether with his great legal learning, industry, fairness, integrity, his com- manding person, and courteous man- ners, rendered him an illustrious or- nament of the bench, to which he was finally elevated. In the practice of the law his course was marked by the strictest integrity, by fidelity to his clients, and fidelity to his own conscience. He has stated his principles thus : " I have ever considered it as one of the first moral duties of a law- yer, and have always adopted it as a maxim in my own practice, never to encourage a groundless suit, or a groundless defense ; and to dissuade a client from attempting either of them in compliance with his ani- mosities, or with the honest prepos- sessions of his own judgment ; and I ever deemed it a duty in a doubt- ful case, to point to every difficulty, and so far as I could, discourage unreasonable anticipations of suc- cess." In the dignity and suavity of his manners, and his courteous deport- ment towards court, jury, parties, 14 Hon. Roger Minoit Sherman. and witnesses, he was a model for imitation. But we pass to speak of his qualities as a statesman. We confess some embarrassment in attempting to do justice to our subject in tbis particular, owing to the fact that party influence almost wholly excluded Mr. Sherman from the public councils during that whole period of his life in which his in- tellect had reached its maturity, and his fame its zenith. He was of that order and style of men that were ascendant in a former generation, and have almost wholly disappeared from the present. If an occasional specimen of them remains, he is like the solitary oak, that stands in solemn grandeur after the whole surrounding forest has been cut away. At this day, no man is a statesman, who is not also a politi- cian ; by which we mean, that all who are called to conduct public affairs, are obliged to engage more or less in schemes either corrupt or incorrupt, and attend to a system- atic machinery of party politics, without which, it has come to pass within the last twenty years, that no man can get or keep an office of state. Before this, capability, fitness and fidelity were the great requisites for gaining office. These are not indeed without their influence now. But it can not be denied that party tactics, personal maneuvers, and adroit expedients, to say nothing of base intrigues and unscrupulous frauds, often overpower merit in political contests, and that they have a more powerful and disastrous in- fluence than formerly, in conferring places of honor and emolument on the unworthy. Until mankind be- come vastly better than they now are, this management and plotting to get office, often sinking to the most desperate profligacy, is likely to prove an evil inherent in popular governments, to be patiently endured rather than sullbr the greater evils of an hereditary monarchy. With all this modern, yet well nigh indis- pensable scaflfolding of political ele- vation, Mr. Sherman had no sym- pathy, and in it he could take no part. His training, habits, tastes and moral feelings revolted from it — so much so, that had he attempted the artifices of vulgar politicians, he would have been awkward and un- successful. This was one cause of his exclusion from political office, while a large portion of intelligent, virtuous people felt that, above all other men in Connecticut, he was entitled to a seat in the Senate of the United States, and that in this position he would have been an honor to the state, and a blessing to the nation. Indeed, anterior to this new state of things, when per- sonal merit was a sufficiently buoy- ant cause of political elevation, Mr. Sherman was rapidly rising to a point from w'hich he could have commanded any office in the gift of the state. Thus excluded from political of- fices, which he did not covet but rather shunned, and absorbed in the practice of law, Mr. Sherman, during the ripest portion of his life, was in no situation to develop and exhibit his powers of statesmanship. And yet, by whatever untoward cir- cumstances true genius may be cramped, there is an elastic, irre- pressible energy in it, which " Can not but by nnniliilating, die." His mind was much employed, and his influence greatly felt, upon the legislation of his own state. For more than twenty five years he at- tended the legislature as an advo- cate before the committees, that matured and shaped the business of the session. He also framed a great number of important bills, nnd pro- cured their adoption by the legisla- ture. Most of these are now incor- porated into the fixed and funda- mental laws of the state. They relate chiefly to judicial proceed- ings, and are designed to remove needless formalities, hindrances and Hon. Roger Minotl Sherman. 15 delays, and to render the attainment of justice, cheap, certain and expe- ditious. We can only point to some of the more important of these, as the)^ lie on the pages of the Statute Book, without describing their ob- jects and bearings. They are found in the Connecticut Statute Book, edition of 1838, pp. 119, 44, 222, 66, 76, 80, 300. He gave great attention to the subject of currency and finance. These topics of late have been extensively and unhappily mixed with party politics. Few men have studied or mastered them more thoroughly. In the great financial convulsions, which an inflated cur- rency has inflicted on the country, he appeared before the public with plans which he had devised for rem- edying the evil. These plans are all based upon one fundamental principle, viz. that all increase of the currency, beyond the amount that the laws of trade would bring into the country, if paper money was unknown, is an evil, and tends to disaster and ruin. He was in favor of paper money on account of its convenience, but opposed to its use for the purpose of augment- ing the currency. He was a strict bullionist. Hence he was opposed to every scheme for the emission of paper money, which did not provide for its prompt redemption in specie, in every possible emergency. He was opposed to all toleration of in- convertible paper issues, to any ex- tent, in any crisis, or on any pretext whatever. We believe that if this principle had been adhered to in this country, the terrific, destructive and demoralizing commercial con- vulsions with which it has been scourged, would have been avoided : and that all future deviations from it willterminateinsimilarcatastrophes. In the commercial revulsion which followed the over-stimulated trade that arose after the last war, Mr, Sherman, under the signature of "Aristides," published a letter to Mr, Crawford, then Secretary of the Treasury, in reference to the United States Bank. This institu- tion had been so mismanaged, as to aggravate for a time the evils it was designed to cure. It had lost com- mand of its capital by putting it out in rash accommodation loans, thus fanning the spirit of wild adventure, and reducing itself to the verge of temporary insolvency. To remedy this, Mr. Sherman, after an elab- orate discussion of first principles, insisted that " two rules ought to be rigidly enforced. First, to discount no accommodation paper. Second- ly, to admit no renewals, but always require full payment when the term of credit has expired." After the great commercial ex- plosion of 1837, he published some letters over the signature of " Frank- lin," to the Hon, Levi Woodbury, then Secretary of the Treasury. In these he proved that the disasters of that period arose from an enor- mous expansion of the currency be- yond its natural limits, through the unrestrained issues of the banks. He proposed to his consideration a project of a national bank, of suf- ficient capital to wield a controlling influence over state institutions, guarded by ample checks against the possibility of expanding the currency beyond the demands of the laws of trade : with extraordi- nary provisions for the safety of stockholders, and with securities for bill-holders and other creditors, which could fail only in the event of the dissolution of the government. We can not here present the de- tails. These letters attracted much attention. During the session of Congress 1841-2, he drafted a " Plan for the safe keeping and disbursement of the public revenue, for a uniform currency, and for facilitating ex- changes in the United States." It was placed in the hands of the Chair- men of the Finance Committees of the Senate and House. It was the 16 Hon. Ro£[er Minott Sherman. basis of the plans which they re- ported to their respective branches of Congress. But they encumbered it with so many additions and alter- ations, that it was divested of its original simplicity. Early in the next session he published his Plan, over the signature of " Franklin," with an elaborate exposition and vindication of it, and of the various points in which it diiTered from either of the projects submitted in the re- ports made at the previous session. It was extensively published in the leading journals of both political parties, and was much commended by moderate men on all sides. It aimed at a compromise between the two parties. It met the great de- mand of one party for a sound national paper currency and me- dium of exchanges ; and of the other, for a strictly specie standard, and for the custody of the public revenues in a governmental depos- itory, without the aid of banks. " Severely simple in its provisions," as it was well described to be, much applauded in all quarters, and little objected to, yet such was the then exasperated and chaotic state of parties, that no exchequer or fiscal project could be adopted. It of course failed. But it was no small satisfaction to its author, tliat the changes which Sir Robert Peel has since introduced into the Bank of England, were based upon the same fundamental principles. Mr. Sherman believed that Ihc greatest dangers of our republic arise from the immense and con- stantly augmenting patronage at the disposal of the President of the United States. In his view, this strikes into parties their deepest taint of corruption, and kindles the most desolating fires of political contention. To abridge this pat- ronage was with him an object to be coveted and sought, as beyond all others essential to the welfare and perpetuity of the republic. In IS 10, he addressed a letter on this subject through the public journals, over the signature of " Patrick Henry," to the Hon. Erastus Root, who had then introduced some resolutions into the New York Legislature, de- signed to call attention to it. In this letter, he proposed that the power of appointing all officers, ex- cept such as are the immediate agents, representatives or counsel- lors of the President, should be taken from him and vested in a committee, chosen by lot from among the members of Congress. This he believed would staunch the evil at its source. Says he, " If the twelve thousand postmasters and the host of others who are sustained by executive bounty — with the still more numerous expectants of office, could hope to gain no personal ad- vantages by influencing the minds of electors, that which now gives form and vigor to party power, would entirely cease, and the depths of po- litical corruption would be dried up." The late Hon. James Hillhouse, many years since foreseeing the monstrous growth of this evil, which was then in its germ, introduced resolutions for a similar purpose into the Senate of the United States. His plan was to elect the President himself by lot, from the senior por- tion of the senators. But it is to be feared that the causes which render such an amendment to the Constitution necessary, will forever prevent its adoption. Without prolonging this account of Mr. Sherman's course and opin- ions in respect to public affairs, we believe that it may be truly said, that as a statesman he was sagacious, patriotic and incorrupt; that he had eminent gifts for the public service, and shone with peculiar luster when- ever he was summoned to it ; that had he spent his life in it, he would have had few equals, and still fewer superiors ; that he was too indepen- dent to cast his opinions wholly in the mould of any political party, and too upright to compromise them Hon. Roser Minott Sherman. 17 for the sake of office ; that he never- theless uniformly desired and pro- moled the success of one of our great poHtical parties in preference to its rival ; and tliat vviihout polit- ical preferment, he gained a public confidence and celebrity which few acquire with it. We shall devote our remaining space to a view of his religious character ; for this thoroughly con- sidered, includes not only his atti- tude and bearing towards God, but towards man, his whole private and social character. If we were to give the more ex- act shades of his Christian charac- ter, we should say that it was more strongly marked by priiiciple than hy feeling. By this we mean, that it was more evident and conspicu- ous in his uniform and steadfast ad- herence to Christian truth, his con- scientious and consistent discharge of Christian duty, the even tenor of his unspotted and exemplary life, than in the frequent display of exube- rant and impulsive emotions. This, while it lends a grace and buoy- ancy to a consistent and exemplary life, is too often a monstrosity di- vorced from it. The longer we live, the more we value steadfast, sterling, trustworthy Christian prin- ciple, above all other manifestations of Christian character. Not that Mr. Sherman was deficient in Chris- tian feeling. He was every way earnest and hearty. But he was not highly excitable, now in a fever of ill-balanced zeal, and now in an ague of Laodicean coldness. In his natural temperament, he was calm, steady and uniform. In his religious opinions he was clear and fixed. His scriptural and theologi- cal knowledge was extensive and profound beyond that of many di- vines. Hence it was to be expected tliat true religion would develop it- self in just proportions, and with a steady and serene luster. There is abundant evidence that in all his extended intercourse and contact with men, he left a decided impres- sion of his religious character, and that he aimed to be governed by strict Christian principle. There was scarcely a man of eminence in the secular professions in the whole country, in regard to whom this im- pression was more distinct and uni- versal, or who had a higher stand- ing and influence in the church. This conscientious adherence to Christian principle characterized the whole man in every sphere and re- lation of life, and grew in strength and maturity till his death. This principle, moreover, rested upon no sandy foundation. It rested upon the solid basis of evangelical doctrine — of the truth as it is in Jesus. He was a Calvinist of the school of Edwards and Dwight. This scheme of doctrine, which lies at the foundation of stable and con- sistent piety, he adopted not from traditional or any merely human authority, but from a careful study of the Scriptures. He was con- vinced that it is " the faith once de- livered to the saints" in the oracles of God, and that it accorded with his spiritual wants and experience. Nor was he less attached to the order, than the doctrines of the com- munion to which he belonged, and in which he had been reared. He was a sincere and hearty Congrega- tionalist. But while he was clear and firm in his doctrinal belief and denominational attachments, his te- nacity of these things was free from all bigotry and narrowness. He had the largest catholicity. He loved all, of whatever name, who appeared to love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. He had an eye to discern, and a heart to rejoice in and promote whatsoever things are true, lovely and of good report in every Christian communion. If he was a Christian, he was of course a man of prayer. But our knowledge of his habits in this re- spect is not, as in too many cases, limited to mere inference from his 18 Hon. Roger Minolt Sherman. Christian profession. He daily gathered his own household around the family altar. He was always ready, when called upon, (which was often,) to pray in the social meeting and public assembly. He was much in the habit of urginfc the necessity and efficacy of prayer ; and gave evidence that he knew whereof he affirmed, in blessed ex- perience. His humility was uncommon and striking. It was the more conspic- uous by contrast with that greatness, of which there was so strong a temptation to be proud. In the eyes of all, it made tliat greatness still greater, and gave it a finer, no- bler mould. In intercourse with men greatly his inferiors, his deport- ment was modest and unassuming. He was benignant and ailkble in his demeanor towards the humblest. None were repelled — all felt wel- comed and attracted to him. He loathed all arrogant and supercil- ious manners. He was highly benevolent and tender in his feelings. He had a quick and strong sympathy with persons in distress, and was prompt in exertions to assuage their suffer- ings. In the ordinary intercourse of life he was reluctant, almost to a fault, to wound or disturb the feelings of others. For no service was more excruciating to him, than to administer the faithful wounds of a friend. Hence in society, of which he was highly fond, his man- ners were marked by great cour- tesy and amenity, as well as dignity and grace. These, united to his great conversational resources, made him an ornament and favorite in the social circle. To all worthy public, charitable, and religious ob- jects, he gave a prompt and power- ful support, by his ready and able advocacy, his great influence, and his liberal contributions. But of this we shall yet speak more dis- tinctly. He was distinguished for hon- esty, fidelity, truth— in a word, for all that goes to form general up- rightness of character. On all these subjects his standard was high and severe. He could not endure any deviations from them, either in him- self or others. With a high and delicate sense of fidelity and hon- esty, he was punctilious in fulfilling every engagement and obligation, and in discharging every sort of claim which could be due from himself to others. And he thought lightly of most of the excuses by which men gloss over breaches of trust and promise, and the neglect to satisfy the reasonable claims of others. Nor did he limit the appli- cation of these views to mere pe- cuniary covenants and obligations ; he extended them to whatever is due from one to another. His ad- herence to truth was no less uni- form and tenacious. Nor would he compromise it for the sake of per- sonal advantage. He would not do violence to his convictions and prin- ciples for the sake of honor and emolument. He would not swerve from his principles, or shrink from avowing and maintaining them, though assailed with a tornado of popular clamor and obloquy. He abhorred and eschewed all trick and artifice, of every sort, for catch- ing a transient popular applause, and winnina; inwlorious distinctions. Not that he was destitute of ambi- tion ; but it was a noble, Christian ambition. He coveted not that var- nished celebrity which quickly fades and is abraded ; but that golden luster which brightens with time, and under every successive ordeal. But what we inquire after with especial interest, in the case of a great man in Israel, is his attitude and course with reference to the promotion of religion. Was his mighty influence earnestly put forth and decisively felt in advancing the cause of Christ } In this respect, Mr. Sherman was a burning and shining light, that sent its rays far Hon. Roscr Minott Sherman. 19 and wide. In his own church and congregation he was a chief pillar. He was ardently devoted to their welfare, and did his utmost to pro- mote their peace, purity, and en- largement. By his counsels, his influence, his able public advocacy, his substantial pecuniary contribu- tions, he took the lead in all meas- ures for the promotion of religion, and of all good things. But his own church was peculiarly endear- ed to him, and none could more sincerely say, " Bej'ond my highest joy, I prize her heavenly ways, Her sweet communion, solemn vows, Her hymns of love and praise." None were more punctual, con- stant and devout, in attendance upon the public worship of the Sabbath : or more glad when greeted with the su'Timons, " let us go into the house of the Lord." If in any place his death has left an aching void, it is in his own loved sanctuary. In all humbler meetings for prayer and conference, conducted either par- tially or wholly by the brethren, he was a regular and delighted attend- ant, a prompt and mighty helper. Whenever desired, he was ready to raise his voice in prayer, and to give the word of familiar, impres- sive exhortation. He had an ex- traordinary gift for expounding the Scriptures with clearness, cogency and eloquence. If he were present and the minister were absent, there was no difficulty in sustaining all the services of a meeting, with high interest and profit. On some of these occasions, at the call of the moment, he has electrified the meet- ing with strains of eloquence, which he rarely surpassed in his highest efforts at the bar. In this readiness to every good work we think him a model to pro- fessional men, many of whom, how- ever gifted with powers of public address, shrink with morbid sensi- tiveness from taking any part in religious meetings. We believe, that by a little self-denial at the out- set, the service would soon cease to be self-denying ; that they would find an ample compensation in their extended influence for good, and their assurance of the divine appro- bation. But if his own parish was tho center, it did not furnish the cir- cumference of his Christian influ- ence. It radiated over the county, the state, the whole country. His purity of character, his known de- votion to the sacred interests of re- ligion ; his sagacity, eloquence, and acquaintance with doctrinal and ec- clesiastical subjects, gave him great w^eight in all ecclesiastical affairs, all religious and moral movements. On these matters, he was much re- sorted to for counsel and aid. His very name was a tower of strength. As he was always serious in his views of all subjects, and had a strong interest in those great objects to which the clergy are profession- ally devoted, he was fond of their society and cultivated their acquaint- ance. He was widely known, be- loved, and revered among them. In regard to those great move- ments for spreading the Gospel and purifying the world, which have had their birth and growth during the present century, Mr. Sherman was fully imbued with that spirit in which they had their origin and support. They sprung from that diffusive spirit of Christianity which had long been dormant, but begun to be roused from its lethargy not far from the beginning of the pres- ent century. Their birth was nearly contemporaneous with his birth to newness of life. His whole reli- gion therefore had its development and shaping in connection with them ; it grew with their growth, and strengthened with their strength, and was trained to a quick and ac- tive sympathy with them. This difTusive spirit of Christian- ity, which had long been suffocated, has made the whole period of Mr. 20 Hon. Roger Minott Sherman. Sherman's Christian life the era of revivals, missions, reforming enter- prises, and of systematic ajfencies for circulating the Bible and diffu- sing Christian knowledge. From the great revival of 1740, till the opening of the present century, the American church had been in a course of constant decline. Re- vivals hod almost wholly ceased. War had demoralized the nation. The unsettled and precarious slate of t'.ie country before the adoption of the Constitution, had fostered a reckless and desperate spirit, and debauched the manners and morals of the young. All Protestant Chris- tendom, too, had been lapsing into the same lukewarmness and degen- eracy. Meanwhile infidelity waxed bold, and with infuriate malignity assailed the very being of Chris- tianity, and marshaled its brazen legions to obliterate it from the world. The nations were convulsed with wars, and terrified with the victories and conquests, ihe inva- sions and menaces of the mighty hunter of his race. The f.hock of the French revolution, and the con- tagion of the atheistic and anarchi- cal principles which produced it, had spread through the civilized world. Whatever was venerable, sacred and divine, began, in this as well as other lands, to be treated as a hoary abuse, and to be threat- ened with subversion. In this crisis, religion was reduced to its extreme depression, and the prospect iu relation to it was dark and alarm- ing. But the thickest darkness pre- cedes and ushers in the dawn. The friends of God were alarmed. They saw all human supports and props giving way. They were driven to a reliance on that arm which is never shortened that it can not save. They were roused to extraordinary prayer for the outpouring of the Spirit. The dry bones began to move. Revivals began to appear, of great depth, frequency and con- tinuance. Instead of an unbeliev- ing fear of its own dissolution and prostration by the powers of dark- ness, the church was aroused to aggression upon their dominions, and felt that its surest means of preservation lay in unlimited ex- pansion. It also felt that this was the surest panacea for the temporal, social, and political evils that afllict our race ; the only effectual anti- dote to that spirit of revolution and anarchy which was then the scourge of nations. Into these views and feelinsis, leading Christian states- men who had been perplexed and alarmed at the growth of that fell spirit, which they could not exor- cise or control, heartily entered. Wilberforce may be taken as the leader and model of a numerous class, that were raised up at this time in Britain and this country. The inspiring idea which animated them was, that the hopes of our race for time and eternity depend upon the diffusion of pure and vital Christianity. This, in their view, was the salt of the earth. Hence they were ready to every good work. They combined with evan- gelical ministers in rousing the church, and in concerting and sus- taining measures for making its light to shine, and bringing its effec- tive energies and resources to bear upon a world lying in wickedness. I\Ir. Sherman was one of this class of men. He imbibed this spirit in its earliest development, and was actuated by it through life. He gave his earnest and efficient aid to all trustworthy schemes and organi- zations for propagating the Gospel in our own and foreign lands — to all sound measures for promoting Christian morals, and for the relief of suffering humanity. He indeed repudiated with abhorrence the er- ratic schemes of a spurious and infidel philanthropy ; that counter- feit benevolence which has been struggling to displace the true ; those moral empirics and nostrums that kill when they promise to cure, Hon. Roger Minott Sherman. 21 and poison instead of medicating the sources of sin and misery. Had he done otherwise, we should have ceased to revere either his great- ness or his goodness. But to every solid scheme for conveying to mea the blessings of the everlasting Gos- pel, for improving their morals and assuaging their woes, he gave his hearty and effective support. He was a principal officer in some of our most important Christian organ- izations ; and that he was not in others, was owing to the fact, that he refused all offices to which he could not give thorough attention. If the life of such men is a pub- lic blessing, their death is a public calamity. But our loss is their gain. It is fit that we have their characters spread out before us, not only as a just tribute to them, but for our own profit — that so we may be excited to imitate them so far as they followed Christ. And when we have traced the career of men, who were favored v/ith extraordi- nary success and distinction in life to their dying moments, how does all the brilliancy of worldly g'ory fade away before the overshadow- ing luster of the immortal diadem !