^HV OF PRIWC?^ ^OiOGiCfi Sl\l\^ A BX 9225 .A37 Alexander, Henry Carringtori 1835-1894. The life of Joseph Addison Alexander, D.D. THE LIFE JOSEPH ADDISON ALEXANDER, D.D t^ U2. e jL^c^^^^^^. THE LIFE ^^jH,i^ n, I NEW YORK: SCRIBNER, ARxAISTPtONG & CO., 1875. Bntered, according to Act of Congress, in the year ] 86f>, Bv CHARLES SCRIBNER & CO., In the Clerli's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Sonthern District of New Yort J^/t^a^J^ ) ^ t EDITOE'S NOTE TO NEW EDITION. The Pu])lisliers having seen proper to bring out a cheaper edition of this work in one volume, have kindly afforded me the opportunity of adding a few words to the statement just made. Availing myself of this courtesy,. I desire to express my sense of the favor the l^ook has met with in some quar- ters, and to say that I hope the reduction in its size will not prove unacceptable to tliat class of readers who do not like to see biographies of this chai'acter run to two volumes. The life of a quiet scholar cannot be expected to arrest the attention of the multitude, but may often have attractions for a select few. If it should turn out to be so in the present instance, it will be owing chiefly to the facts recorded and the subject delineated, but largely also to the kindness and skill of those wdio have assisted the editor. H. C. A. April 6, 1875. P BE F A O E. I SHALL make no apology for writing the Life of Joseph Abdison Alexandei.. If the facts recorded m these volumes be not a sufficient justihcation there could be no other. Why the duty has been devolved on his nephew rather than upon some one else, is a question which need not be discussed here. It is enough to say that the work was undertaken not at his own instance but in compliance with the wishes of the surviving mem- bers of the family. The task, though a grateful, has been an arduous one. The thing aimed at has been not so much any mere lite- rary excellence as an array of competent and mcontro- veAible testimony. The career of a qiiiet student affords small material in the way of biographic mcident but it is hoped that the remarkable private and domestic character, and personal traits and idiosyncrasies, of the subject ol these memoirs, have not been lost sight of in the attempt to por- tray his life as a recluse scholar, as a teacher, as a mmister of the Word, and as an author. The present biographer is indebted to so many sources and especially to so many individual friends, for much of the substance of his narrative as well as for much that is valuable and entertaining in the way of criticism, descrip- tion and illustrative remark and anecdote, that he hnds himself unable to make particular acknowledgments to them all, or even to cite every one of his authorities by name. In most cases he has done so m the body of he two volumes which are now respectfully offered to the yi PREFACE. candid judgment of his readers. Where nothing is said to the contrary, it will he right to infer that any matter in- corporated in the words of another was contributed origin- ally to this work. Sometimes the language is much stronger than he should have dared to use himself, but is retained as shoAving his uncle's rare gift of inspiring his pupils with enthusiastic, if extravagant, admiration. To the rule of making no specific acknowledgments ©f personal obligation in the Preface, there must, however, be one signalexception ; and that is in the case of a sur- viving brother of the deceased, and the editor of several of his posthumous volumes, the Kev. Samuel D. Alexander, D. D., of Kew York. Indeed so large and important has been i)r. Alexander's share in these labours, that it is only because of his earnest protestation, and inflexible purpose to the contrary, that his name is not associated with that of the nominal author upon the title-page. The first rough draught of the narrative was prepared by him, from the journals of his lamented brother, and his subsequent toils and efforts bearing in one way or other upon the book as it is now presented, have been excessive and invaluable. I may add that the reader will not stray far from the truth, if he will bear in mind that while we have both worked in the quarry and upon the block, the work of my relative and coadjutor has been mainly though by no means exclu- sively in the quarry, and my own principally upon the block, though also very extensively in the quarry. Each of as has exercised the powers of the veto and of elimina- tion, though the present writer has reserved to himself the power of decisive choice in the few cases where there has been a fixed difference of opinion between us. Where the opinions of the subject of this memoir are given without comment, it is not to be taken for granted that they are also those of his biographer. We have discovered with regret that many errors have PEEFACE. VU crept into the printing tliat could not be indicated within the ordinary limits of a table of errata. Some of these are trivial or will at once be detected as typographical mis- takes, but others for which we equally repudiate the responsibility are more serious, or of such a nature as to baffle all curiosity as to their precise extent and origin. Under these circumstances we throw ourselves upon the mercy of those of our readers who, having suffered them- selves in like manner and from the same cause, will, we trust, regard om- frailty and unavoidable misfortune with indul2;ence. The v/riting of this work was not commenced until after the late war ; and though the printing began as far back as I^ovember 1868, the publication has been de- layed until the present moment for reasons which we the editors could neither remove nor modify. Some of these reasons might also be pleaded in extenuation of the man- ner in which the volumes are now put before the pub- lic. It is true the copy as furnished to the printer was in a state not at all unlike that of the leaves of the Delphic sibyl. But, to borrow a caveat from the Preface of " Alex- ander on Isaiah," " instead of resorting to the nsnal apolo- gies of distance from the press and inexperience in the business, or appealing to the fact that the sheets could be subjected only once " to our revision, we prefer to commit om-selves to the generosity of those who are willing to be- lieve that in spite of present appearances we have made every reasonable effort to secure accuracy. For the foot notes that are given without signature, I am, except in one '^ instance, myself responsible. May the Lord make this account of the life of one of his devoted servants, instrumental to the promotion of his °™S^°''-^' H.C.A. * The foot-note at the bottom of p. 45, should have been under the signa- ture, " E. B." CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Parenta-e.-The Mother.-The Father.-The Old Pine SUeel Church.-James Alcs°ander.— Lombard Street.— Old Philadelphians. -Gemantown.— James Ross —Anecdotes of Addison.-Princeton.-The College.— Nassau Hall.— Revolutionary Incidents.-Thirst for Knowlcdge.-Lovc of Books.-Rapid Growth.— Beginnings in Latin.— Introduction to Hebrew.— Other Oriental Languages.— Princeton under Dr. Green.— Passion for Music— European and Am°erican Choirs.— Influence of this Taste on his Sermons.— Imagina- tion and Fancy.— Intellectual Amusements.— The Boyish Orator.— Facetious Turn.— First Efforts at Verse.— Early Poetical Ventures.— Early Attempts at Rhyming.— Poetical Talents.— Early Teachers.— Jemmy Hamilton.— Salmon Strong.— Horace S. Pratt.— Classical School— Robert Baird.— Talent for Writing.— Great Industry.— Facsimile of Arabic— At School.— Trenton Reminiscences.— Traits of Character.— Personal Appearance.— Mr. King's Recollections.— Humorous Writing.—" The Medley."— Original ComposUion.— Stony Brook.— Mr. Baird.— Edward Irving.— James.— Ap- pointed Tutor.— Charaeteristics.-Visits Philadelphia Page 1 CHAPTER II. Dr. Lindsley.— His Pupils.— Power of Memory.- Princeton of 1824.— College Curriculum.- Old Commencement.— Princeton Society and Celebrities.- Mr. Janvier.— The McCarriers.— Jemmy McCarrier.— Mr. Alexander in College.— His Speeches.— At College— Habits and Appearance.— Quickness of PiTrts.- Many-sided Character.— Judge Napton.— Early Taste for Litera- ture.-Moral Habits.— Highly Gifted. -Character of his Mind.-Equality of his Faculties.— College Club.— G. W. Boiling.— Valedictory.-Clerk of Common Council.— First Letter.— Letters Received.— Visits Long Branch. —Letter of Mrs. Graham.— Mr. McCall.— His Scholarship 61 CHAPTER III. Declines the Tutorship.— Charles Campbell.— Testimony of Professor Hart.— Philological Society.— Love for English Classics.— The Patriot.— Persian Poets.— Oriental Scenes.— Persian Legends.— Persian Mind.— Persian My- thology.— Poet's Paradise.— Literary Caprices.— Imitation of Johnson.— X CONTENTS. Arabian Nights.— Articles signed Trochilus.— Commencement, 1827.— Alumni Association.— Foreign News.—" The Sea."— Critique on Shelley.— Party Politics.— Puzzling Leader of August, 1827.— Writing of Fiction.— Jewess of Damascus.— The Emporium.— Estimate of Time.— Reading Ho- mer.—Early Letter.— When Written.— Admiration of Hebrew.— Italian and" Spanish Studies.— Tears of Esau.— Monthly Magazine.— Writing Verses.— Dr. Snowden.— His Letters.— Monthly Magazine.— Persia and the East— Fall of Ispahan.— A Vision of Greece.— English Poets.— Change of Studies P^S^^^ CHAPTER IV. Journal.— Daily Studies.— English Reading.— Early Criticism.— Studies for the Month.— Studies for the Week.— Quarterly Retrospect.— Varied Reading.- Philological Society formed.— Scenery of Princeton.— Devoted to his Books.— Nucleus of a Library.— Begins Chinese.— Retrospect of the Year. —Memoranda of Dr. Rice.— Old Black and Peter Arun.— Their Character- istics.—Johnson, Crow, Lane.— Reading for the Day.— Aristophanes and Shakespeare.— Enghsh Metaphysics.— Brown's Lectures.— Dante and Spen- ser.—Scott's Napoleon.— Scott's Style.— Persian New Testament.— Greek Writers.— Letter from his Brother.— Scott's Napoleon.— Estimate of Xeuo- phon.— Hearing Sermons.- Joseph Sandford.— Recollections of Dr. Rice.— Visit to New York '^'^^ CHAPTER V. Rczeau Brown.— Visits New Haven.— Seeking the Ministry.— In Philadelphia. —Failing Health.- His Death.— Traits of Character.— Lines on his Death. —Their Character.— About the Geography.— Daily Study.— Pope.— Biblical Repertory.— The Repertory.— Change of Plan.— Its Writers.— The Druses. —Extracts.— Study of Arabic— An Old Tradition.— Study of Arabic— Rob- ert Walsh.— Opinions of him.— Walsh in Paris.— Recollections of Dr. Jones.— An Incident.— Contribulions.—Letter to Dr. Hall.— Article on Coffee. .182 CHAPTER VI. Becomes a Teacher.— The East.— Early Dreams.— Study of Greek.— Remarka- ble Letter.— Greek Grammar.— Hellenistic Studies.— Purity of Life.— Con- version.—Diary of Experience.— Comfort in the Bible.— Light in Darkness. — Confessions. — Experimental Journal 212 CHAPTER VII. Entrance upon his Professorship.- Progress in Studies.— Subjects of Study.— Pursuing Hebrew.— Leading Characteristics.— In the Class.— Mr. George CONTENTS. XI Leyburn.— Articles Written.— Parke Godwin, Esq.— Studies of the Tear.— TurkisQ Language. — Burlesque Writing. — Metaphysics. — Grammatical Studies.— Journal.— Keligious Experience.— The Two Brothers.— His Read- ins; —He Loves the Bible.— Temptation.— Daily Reading.— Letter to Mr. Hail P^S0242 CHAPTER VIII. Oriental Preferences.— The Koran.- Mohammedanism.— The False Prophet.— The Perspicuous Book.— The Study of Arabic— Foreiga Grammars.— Fa- miliarity with Current Arabic— Henry Vethake.— College Manners.- Anec dotes.— Public Prayers.— Modesty and Skill as a Teacher.— The Trenton Pastor.— Newspaper Scribblings.— Progress in Studies 265 CHAPTER IX. Sails from New York.— Ship Samson.— English Stage Coach.— Portsmouth to London.— House of Commons.— Edward Irving.— His Church.—" Tongues." —Coach-ride from Oxford.— Dashing Coachman.— Visits Prof. Lee.— La- fayette.—A Visit.- Religious Service.— TravelUng Companions.— Letter.— Singing School.— Swiss Songs.— Visits Merle.— Letter Finished.— Verses Written at Turin.— Poem. — Travelling Companions.— Journey.— On to Rome.— Via Cassia.— Thoughts of Home.— Leaves Rome— New Chair in the College.— Tholuck.— Von Gerlach.— Daily Life in Germany.— Professor Pott.— Contribution of Professor Sears.— Walk with Tholuck.— Anecdotes. Tholuck's Estimate of Alexander. — Anecdote of Louis von Gerlach. — Karl Ritter and Hengstenberg.— Neander and Schleiermacher.— Visits Ne- ander.— Bopp, Rheinwald and Nitzsch.— Reminiscences by Dr. Samuel Mil- ler.— Paris and Princeton Habits Contrasted 283 CHAPTER X. The New Professor.— Severity in the Class-room.— Growth in Gentleness.— Dr. Lyon's Recollections.— Manners in his Study.— Power of Sarcasm.— Lite- rary Recreations. — Knowledge of European Politics. — The Literary Asso- ciation.—Repertory Articles.— Evening Diversions.— Colloquy with Three Bishops.- Remarks of Dr. Scott.— Dr. Hilyer.— Studies of the Brothers.— Bearing in his Private Classes.— Testunony of Professor Hart— Tribute by Dr. Wilson.— Biblical and Oriental Labours. — Plan of Study. — His New Chair. — Messianic Interpretation. — English Reviews. — Miscellaneous Read- ing.—Bible Study 332 CHAPTER XI. Old and New School.— Scripture Reading.— Professorship Declined.— Dean Swift.— Mr. James Alexander.— Dr. Archibald Alexander.— His Preaching. Xii CONTENTS. —Private Classes.— Personal Traits.— Bearing towards his Class.— Sharp Censure.— Conversation.— Observer of Men.— Dr. Hall— Correspondence.- Arabic Letter.— Prayers.— A Specimen.— Resolutions—Estimate of his Prayers.— Prayers before Lecture Page 358 CHAPTER XII. Discursive Reading.-Quarterly Rcview.-Dr. Ramsey.-Abhorrcnce of Drones. —Gentleness.— Interest in his Class.— Oral Expositions.— Massive Intellect. —Impetuous Feehngs.- Current Stories.— Offensive Manners.— Effects of the Weather.— Art Napoleon.— Private Pupils.— Rhyming Letter.— Travelling. — Teachm- under Difficulties. -Writing Letters.— Alphabets.— Correspond- " 380 ence. — Seeking Books . .'■> CHAPTER XIII. Personal Appearance.— Social Intercourse.— High Pressure Teaching.— Hard Study.— Stolid Students.— Assembly of 183Y.— A Latin Tense.— Picture of Princeton.- Contributions to the Papers.— Letters to a Pupil.— True Hap- piness.—Isaiah begun.— The Doomed Man.— When Written.-Parallel Bi- ble.— Letters to Dr. Hall— First Efforts in Pulpit.— Experiments with his Class.— Questions in the Class.— Methods of Study.— With his Private Class.— Bible Studies.— A Poem Suggested.— A Sermon.— Princeton Re- view.— A Letter.— Philosophical Club.— Curious Incident.— Missionary Herald.— Diary.— A Sermon.— Exegetical Study.— A Candidate.— Beggars. —Growth in Grace.— Scripture Reading 402 CHAPTER XIV. As a Preacher.— Dr. Ramsey's Estimate.— First Sermon.— Diversity of Methods. —True Eloquence.— Travelling.— Preaching.— Views of the Disruption.— Ir. Boston.— Dr. Hodge's Estimate.— Letters to a Boy.— Day-Book.— Writing Sermons.— Journal— An Elocutionist.— Dr. Abel Stevens.— Style of Preach- ing.— Invitations to Preach.— Installation.— Inaugural— A Sermon.— Man- ne'rof Preaching.— Writing Sermons.— Not dependent on Notes.— Scripture Study.— Cicero.— Talk of the Brothers.- His Ordination 439 CHAPTER XV. Presbyterial Examination.— Joseph John Gurney.— Little George.— Dr. Jacobus, —Power over the Class.— First Thoughts of Isaiah.— Isaiah.— Hebrew Text. —Princeton.— Preaching.— As a Teacher.— His Audience Moved 468 CONTENTS, CHAPTER XVI. Lines to John.— Good Advice.— Indoor Life.— News from Abroad.- Modem Oratory.— Impassioned Appeal.— Brilliant Preaching.— Archibald Alexan- der.—Teaching Children.— The Elder Brother.— His Method of Story Tell- jng.—Old Bibles.— Henry James.— Knowledge of Fassing Events.— Man- ner with Strangers.— Powers of Entertainment.— Concealing his Feelings.— As a Talker.— Afraid of Mannerism.— Extemporary Efforts.— The City with Foundations.- His Day Books.— No Display of Learnlng.—In Argument.— A Letter.— Tours about Home.— No previous Plan.— His Tastes in Travel —Paintings.— Trip to Ticonderoga.— At Washington.— Visits Congress.— Ham and Eggs.— Avoids Publicity.— Ecclesiastical Courts.— Some People.— In his Study. — A Religious Instructor. — Amusing Letter. — Sharp Hit Page 481 CHAPTER XVII. Prelatists.— Good-natured Criticism.— Sharp Eeviews.— Oxford Tracts.— Ritu- alists and the Chinese.— A Contrast.-Newmania.— Power of Sarcasm.— Many Articles.— List of Articles.— Reveal the Man.— Variety.— Overflow.— Rhythmic Peculiarity.— Abrupt Appeals.— True Poetry.— Genius Tram- meUed ^^3 CHAPTER XVm. Papers for Children.— Ridge Recorder.— Chicken College.— Advertisements.- A Child of Nature.— Polygonal.-Judge Breckinridge.— Grateful Testi monies.— Early Recollections.— Wistar's Magazine.— A Favourite Scholar. -Interruptions.— Little Girls.— Children's Lives.— Rhyming Epistles.— Life of Wiss.— Don Patrick.— Wistar's Magazine.— Don Barbaros,sa.— The Lurid Leper.— House of Correction.— End of Children's Papers.— This was a Man 542 CHAPTER XIX. Laborious Studies.— Dr. Green.— As an Orientalist.— Felix Trembled.— A Friend of the Student.— Professor Phillips.— An Indiscretion.— Abundant Work.— Candour.— Amusing Sketch.— Park's Matriculation.— First Recita- tion.—Change of Feeling.— A First Impression.- Character of Class In- VI CONTENl'S. structions. — Facts from the Journal. — Memoirs of the Alexanders. — A Giant. — His Day Books.— Attachment of his Students. — He loved Confi- dence Page 566 CHAPTER XX. A Great Teacher. — Letter to a Girl.-- -The Doctorate. — Isaiah begun.— Prince- ton of that Day.— Conversation of Brothers.— Dr. Alexander in New York. —Scheme of Lectures.— A Playful Letter.— Reading Books.— Preparing to "Write. — Contempt for Conventions. — A Busy Biographer.- Introduction to Isaiah.— Hard Work.— Origin of Work on Isaiah.— Feats of Memory.— Grateful Employments. — Private Instructions.— Appearance of Work on Earlier Prophecies. — Correspondence 588 CHAPTER XXI. Rapid Work. — Other Occupations. — Personal Characteristics. — Brilliancy in Pulpit.— Jewish Admirers.- Analytical Mind.— Steadfast Orthodoxy.— Con- structive Powers.— Original Genius. — Not an Innovator. — Distaste for Metaphysics.— Biblical Mysticism.— Powers of Generalization.- Analysis and Synthesis. — Extract from Sermon. — Qualities as a Sermonizer.— Intel- lectual Symmetry. — Jeremy Taylor. — Dr. Chalmers. — Great Men Classified. —Appearance of Later Prophecies.— Rigid Translation.— Colloquies.— En- gagement in Philadelphia G14: CHAPTER XXn. Ilis Popularity as a Preacher. — Preaching in New York. — Effects upon Culti- vated Women. — A Lady's Estimate. — Effects upon Prominent Men. — His Printed Sermons.— His Piety.— He abhorred Notoriety.— Dr. Read.— Eff"oct3 upon a Reporter.— An Anecdote.— Dr. McGill Hears him Preach.— Disdain of Art.— At the House of Dr. Harris.— Two Evenings with Dr. Alexander. —His Humour Inexhaustible.— The Second Evening.— Addisonian Inflec- tion.—Unfinished Work 639 CHAPTER XXIII. A Solace for Annoyances.— New Works Suggested.— Second Church, Phila- delphia.—Chair of Church History.— A Change Contemplated.— A New Professor. — Personal Recollections.— Commentary on the Psalms. — Averse to Public Display.— Not Misanthropical.— Inauguration.— Dr. Miller's De- cline-Revival in Princeton.— Addresses during the Revival 659 CHAPTER XXIV. Mother's Magazine.— Enjoying Himself.— Noting Coincidences.— Treatment of Books.— Marking Books.— University of Virginia.— Princeton Magazine. CONTEinS. Vll —Primitive Church Offices.— Sickness of his Father.— Approaching his End —The Burial.— Deep Grief.— To a Fatherless Child.— Head of the House. —A Study Table Page 674 CHAPTER XXV. A. Bookish Letter.— Sudden CmII to Preach.— Local Novelty.— Scenes from his Window.— Among Men.— Death of his Mother.— Studying Church History. — Reading Danish. — In New Haven. — Interpretation. — How to Teach it. — Book of Travels.— Sails for Europe.— His Journals.— A Predicament.- Dr. Candlish.— His Sermon.— Its Effects.— Candlish Again.— A Scotch Guide.— Dr. Hamilton. — His Sermon. — Dr. Cumming.— In the Courts. — Shea and Talfourd.— A Concert.— Mr. Binney.— Hears Melvill.— His Sermon.— Over to France.— M. Cocqnerel.- M. Pressense.— On the Rhine.— A Latin Con- versation. — Two Priests. — Holland. — Mr. Chalmers. — Returns Home. . .691 CHAPTEPw XXVI. Death of Relatives. — Daily Studies.— Too Exegetical.— Dr. Cattell. — Shaving. Book.— Meeting of the Brothers. — Daily Records.— Comical Adventure. — The Gift of a Cutter.— Dr. SchafF.— Dr. Smith's Visit.— Another Interview. — Final Conclusions. — Church History. — A Foreign Student's Estimate. — Relations with his Colleagues.— Not Unfeeling.- Dr. Hodge.— The Elder Brother ^'^^ CHAPTER XXVn. A New Book. — Pallavicino. — Visit to Richmond. — House of Dr. Moore. — Do- mestic Incidents. — Remembering the Children. — Clifton.— From Staunton to Lexington. — Dr. Dabney. — New Monmouth. — Dr. Ramsey. — Impression of Dr. Wilson. — Visits to his Relations. — Polite Conversation. — Self-for- getfuluess. — Preachmg in Staunton. — Social Traits.— Col. Baldwin 750 CHAPTER XXVIIL Daily Readings.— Dr. Waldegrave. — Repertory Essays.— FertiUty of Inven- tion.— Plan for Isaiah. — Preaching for his Brother. — Death of Dr. Rice. — Mode of Working. — A Literary Curiosity. — Frequent Changes. — An Im- portant Proposition. — Letter to Mr. Scribner. — His Commentaries. — Knowledge of Many Autliors.— No Parade of Learning.— Publication of Acts. — At Home. — Family Worship. — As a Talker. — Recreation. — Sarcasm. — His Study. — Visitors. — Humming Tunes. — An Incident. — Little Kind- nesses >^^ VUl CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXIX. Dr. Dabney. — "Writing in New York. — A Graphic Letter. — Professor Eepburn. — Fond of Experiments. — Proposed Journey. — Extract from Journal. — Deep in bis Work. — Biblical History. — Commentary on Acts. — Affairs in New York. — Method of Teaching History. — Letter to Dr. Schaff.— Summer W'ork. — A Memorable Interview. — Brilliant Conversation. — For Whom he WTfote. — Arrival of Dr. James Alexander. — Journal. — Professor Cameron. —Fruits of his Ministry Page 797 CHAPTER XXX. Visit to Richmond. — Mrs. McClung.— Letter to Dr. Hall.— A High Compliment. — Writing in New York. — An Adjourned Meeting. — A Musical Festival. — Many Studies. — Erasmus. — A Latin Classic 819 CHAPTER XXXI. Decline of Health. — Versatility. — Conversation in the Cars.— Knowledge of the Reviews — His Piety. — Rare Humour. — Life of Hall. — A Readable Letter. — Wit and Humour. — A Portrait. — A Happy Home. — An Instance of his Kindness. — His affectionate Softness. — Manner of Giving. — Sincerity and Affection. — Visiting the Sick. — At his own Fireside. — A Joyful Tribute. 830 CHAPTEli XXXII. A Humorous Letter. — A Long Journey. — Love of Change. — A Military Parade. — A Crimean Soldier. — Review at Quebec. — Self-Identification. — All Right. — Travelling Incognito. — The Unknown. — Thrice Transplanted. — As a Lin- guist.— List of Languages.— Summary of Languages. — Dialects. — Few Equals. — List of Articles.— In the Repertory 849 CHAPTER XXXIII. A Heart-Searching Prayer. — The Departing Saint. — A New Sorrow.— Hia Brother's Death. — An Affecting Sermon. — Letter to Dr. Hall— Change in his Looks. — Seminary Changes. — Last Message to the Students. — Impres- sions of Dr. Hodge. — Visible Decline. — Anxiety of Friends. — Last of his Diary.— His last Readings.— Jottings in the Margin.— Growing Worse.— A Slight Improvement. — A Note from Dr. Jones. — A last Letter.— Bishop of Carlisle.— Grateful for Little Kindnesses.— Last Books Read.— Still Weaker.— Asleep in Jesus.— Longed for Rest.— He Died Silent.— Appear- ance after Death.— Undeveloped Power.— The Burial— Tribute of Dr. Burrowes.— Dr. Humphrey's Address.— Chara;teristic3.—Use of German Critics. — His last Article.— Epitaph of Edwards 868 IKDEX 905 THE LIFE REV. JOSEPH ADDISON ALEXANDER, D. D. CHAPTER I. JOSEPH ADDISOX ALEXANDEPv, the subject of tliis memoir, was the third son of the late Archibald Alexander, D. D., of Princeton, and was born in the city of Philadelphia, on the 24th day of April, 1809. Of his father I need not speak. His mother was the daughter of the Rev. James Waddel, of Louisa and of Hanover Presbytery, who is still spoken of in Virginia and elsewhere us the "Blind Preacher," and whose name is preserved in the well-known essay of Mr. Wirt in the British Spy. The late Governor Barbour was wont to speak of hira as the most eloquent man he ever heai-d, with the single exception of Patrick Henry. Mrs. Alexander was a beautiful and lovely girl, and was comely and fascinating almost to the day of her death. The portrait by Mooney, which is in the possession of the family, is very like her. She had dark liquid eyes, and her face wore a look of repose, benevolence, good sense, and sometimes, when animated in con- versation, of gentle raillery and humour. Her sensibility was extreme and tremulous. She had a sweet gayety of spir- its, shaded at times by a pensive melancholy. She was, in every acceptation of the word, devotedly pious. Her labo- rious readings to her aged and sightless father had injured her own vision. She loved her Saviour, and the house, 1 2 PARENTAGE. ^1909- people, works, and word of her God. She was foud of re- h<'ious books. No one could take a more unaffected pleasure •ux the writhigs of Flavel, Bates, and other non-conformists. It was her study to do good, and to make her home and the home of her hushand and children cheerful and happy ; nor did any one ever succeed better in such an attempt. Though naturally diffident and very sensitive, she loved company, jiud when she pleased was one of the most entertaming persons in the world. Her children were all proudly attached to her, and her son Addison not only loved but admired her above all living Avomen.* There was an indescribable charm * The testimony of one of Addison's teachers on this point is exceedingly just and valuable. It is contained in a letter from the Rev. Dr. R. Baird to the Presbyterian, which he wrote at Yonkers, N. Y., May 12, 1860. " I may remarlv, in passing, that few men in our country or any other, had greater advantages for the acquisition of knowledge and the formation of well- developed characters, than the sons of the late Dr. Archibald Alexander. Their mother was a daughter of the celebrated Dr. Waddel of Virginia, of whose eloquence William Wirt has given such a glowing description in his British Spy, and possessed much of her father's character and strength of mind. She was'a woman of excellent judgment, well-cultivated intellect, most amiable dis- position, much decision of character, sincere piety, and even in old age retained much of the beauty of her youth, and of those pleasant and winning manners which are better than beauty. Well qualified as she was to adorn any circle of society in which she might have moved, she devoted herself with most unre- mitting care to the training of her children, rightly believing that this was the first and great duty which she owed to the Saviour and to them. Her delight- ful influence greatly contributed to make home the most pleasant place in the world to them. The company, too, of an accomplished and affectionate sister, and often that of most agreeable female relatives from the Old Dominion, as well as of friends from Philadelphia, where their father had been pastor of a church during several years, contributed to make the house of their parents aU that could be desired. I have sometimes thought that it was almost too pleasant ; on any other principle it is hard to account for the fact that so many of them have remained unmarried. " The influence of their father was not less happy and effective than that of their excellent mother on all these sons. Dr. Alexander was a kind father, but not too indulgent. At all times he lived on terms of great intimacy with them, and sometimes, especially in his younger life, would take part in their youthful iET. 1.] THE MOTHER. 3 about her voice and manner, and she had a fine and cultivated understanding. It is impossible to exaggerate the ^influence of sucb a mother upon the mind and character of her children. In ap pearance, and many habits and traits of character and intellect, Addison was like the Alexanders, and especially like his father; but in many particulars of mind and disposition he was, to use the language of another who is not a resident of Staunton and not related to the family, " his grandfather's son (James Wad- del)." He was slill more his mother's son; though in after years he grew to be more and more in person, if not in tem- perament, like his father and one or two of his father's sisters. The commentator on Isaiah had the most exalted notion of his mother's rare powers as an interpreter of Scripture. He preferred her plain, unaided judgments to the opinions of all the Fathers and Councils. It would be hard to find a more passionately devoted son. He has been heard to expatiate with delight on tlie soft attractions and ingratiating charm of her society. His eye would sometimes kindle, and his voice become tender, when he was on this theme. She was equally wrapt up in her famous son. But if she indulged him it was in reason, and with a wise consideration of the future. The truth was, from the very beginning the boy needed little guidance and little correction. Even his profound, sagacious father, that thoughtful and patient student of mental and sports with evident gratification to himself as well as to them. I often had oc- casion to call upon him in his study at night, and frequently found some of the smaller boys about him, reading or amusing themselves ; and he told me that it never interfered with his studies. They had free access to his library, which was large, and, as they grew up, to the libraries of the Institutions in Prince- ton. And as all the sons received a classical education, and graduated at the College of that place, they had abundant advantages for becoming well-in- structed men. The daily converse witli their parents did much to cieate and increase the love of knowledge for wliich they became so much distinguished. I have been told by the late James W. Alexander, that he had heard at liia father's table very many of the most important things which he ever learned. The advantages of growing up under such an influence, and in the midst of so many incentives to the acquisition of knowledge, cannot be overrated." 4 THE FATHEU. P^""' spiritual plienomena, though ever on the alert as regarded ac^s of disobedience, like the father of Pascal left his son pretty much to liis oNvn be«t. His discipline "v^^as suggestive rather than strictly coercive. He saw clearly from the first that Ad- dison was to be his own master. The frmts ot this training are now evident in the life and fame of the great Biblical scholar We cannot but rejoice that his powers were not too much restrained in infancy and youth, but were allowed to develop themselves in the natural ways. There are few cases in which such a course would be wise ; but this was one of them. , ,. 1 1 His ancestry was Scotch-Irish, and as much of the manly and racy vigour of his mind, and bold intrepidity as well as honest frankness of his temper, are traceable to this sturdy stock, I think it well to say a word or two about the emigra- tion to this country from the North of Ireland.* Many of these stout Presbyterians went to the Great Valley, and laid the foundations of civil and religious liberty m Virginia. These reputable settlers had been taught to thirst for the best literature of the ags. Their earliest predilections were tor the union of regulated freedom and sound learning. Their de- scendants followed in their fcotsteps. "Reasons might be given why the sons of Scottish settlers in Ulster, more than any others of the British isles, should come to this country; impelled by the same causes which drove the Huguenot and the Palatine. During their sojourn in Ireland, they had never lost one Scottish peculiarity of mind or dialect. They came ready to coalesce with the Puritan sons of men who had some- times fought, and sometimes suffered with their fathers. A common creed and common purpose knit them together in as- sertino- the consecration of science and letters to the church." f The catalogue of Princeton College shows that no other race added so many to the names of her alumni. With some ex- * Fee the account by Dr. A. Alexander, in his biography by his son, p. 2. f Address at Centennial Celebration of the College by Rev. J. W. Alexan- der D.D. This address has never been published. ^T.3.] THE OLD PINE STREET CHURCH. 5 ceptions, the founders of the college were of this stock, and mingled cordially with their brethren of English descent. "Carolina, East Jersey and Maryland received these exiles, panting irom persecution, as early as 1679. They spread themselves over the Great Valley, a hardy, athletic, shrewd, inquisitive, and remarkably persistent race." * This was the stock from which Archibald, and James, and Addison Alex- ander sprung. Dr. Alexander removed to Philadelphia in the winter of 180G-1S07, and became the pastor of the Third Presbyterian Church, now known as the old Pine street Church. His eldest son speaks of having had a few dim recollections of Prince Ed- ward, and clearly remembered the old prayer-room of Hamp- den Sidney College. He also had some iaint remembrance of the journey to Philadelphia. His first bright reminiscences were connected with a house in Pine street, just opposite St. Peter's churchyard. This was the first house occupied by his father. He calls to mind his surprise at the burial of several persons with military honours, and wondered, as children will, why they should fire guns over the grave. He says that in the spring the rank grass, interspersed wnth buttercups and dandelions, made the churchyard a delightful spot. He was afterwards told by his mother that he was a stubborn and un- governable child. He was once taken home by her and cor- rected ior playing with a little girl in church — he never re- peated the offence. An old Bible lay in the pastor's pew, which the little urchins used to tear up and twist into " ear- ticklers," which they profanely used during prayers. He well remembered the singing of James McGathery, who was pre- centor, and the acerbity of David Allen, the old Scotch sexton, and the goats w-hich used to browse in the churchyard. A very excellent Quaker lady named Price lived next to them in Pine street, who was very kind to James and used to encour- age him to get upon a table and preach, which he was accus- tomed to do with much applause. An old family servant * Ibid. 6 JAMES ALEXANDER. [1813. named Daphne, once a slave in Virginia, avIio returned to the Valley after receiving her freedom, and who lived to a great age, was full of anecdotes relating to these juvenile exploits. Slie could tell them long after she had forgotten nearly every thing else. Mrs. Price was still living in 1829, and spoke of James as "a vei-y pious ciiild." He was however too much given to imitate the clerical actions of his father, and was once chastised for solemnly pouring water on a little chair and uttering the formula of baptism. Once during the prevalence of a thur.der-stoi-m, he said to his brother or his nurse that it was " God talking," and even undertook to tell what He was saying ; for which he afterwards had some twinges. The cries of the man who sold clams and oysters were matters of deep interest in those days. Even Addison could also recall the song of the little chimney sweeps. The nurse used to take the older boys to a cake shop in the vicinity, and the eldest of them in his simplicity thought that what they got upon trust they got for nothing. The next house in which they lived was on the south side of Lombard street, between Second and Third streets. It was used in 1828 as a " iinding store " for shoemakers. One of the boys remembered being taken thither in a coach, but none of the circumstances attending the removal. This must have been in 1808, and consequently before the birth of Addison, which occurred the following spring. This event was dis- tint'.tly remembered by his brother James, who was moved by it to tears. He says it gave him much pain, and in the ten- derness of his heai't he wept to think that he should be sup- planted in the affections of his parents. Little did he know the joy he was to take in his new brother. The late Dr. Addison Waddel, afterwards of Staunton, Virginia, his mother's brother, was at that time living with Dr. Alexander. Here it was that James began to study the Latin grammar, reciting it to his father, and he long afterwards regretted his " wicked craft " in peeping over his shoulder at the book. The study fronted the street, on the first floor, with a little window opening upon the stairway, through which the ^T.4.1 LOMBARD STREET. V boys used to look in upon marriages which sometimes took place there. These were the days of the first stir in America about Bible Societies, and the Philadelphia pastor used to give Bibles to poor people. In the little court behind the house was an arbour covered with a grape-vine, and some little beds of flowers. Long afterwards Dr. James W. Alexander could scarcely ever see a 2>inlc without thinking of Lombard street. It was, he says, with an indescribable pensive satisfaction that he looked back upon those days of comparative innocence. He scarcely ever went to bed without talking to his mother about the unpardonable sin ; which he stood in daily fear of committing. There were no Sunday Schools then, but he re- membered going every Saturday afternoon to Pine street Church to be catechised. Almost every day he went to Sec- ond street, to the house of Mr. John Steele, who having no children of his own was very kind to him. He was an Irish- man, and a brother of the ReA\ Robert Steele of Abingdon, Pa., and the Rev. Samuel Steele of Kentucky. Here the little visitor used to read the Pilgrim's Progress, and the Olney Hymns, which he always held in high affection. On his sev- enth birthday his father presented him with Day's Sanford and Merton, telling him that he was " now a youth, and must begin to prepare for manhood." This somewhat singular advice was heeded. The lad was fond of reading, and used to ])ace the floor for hours. He fairly gorged the English classics, and in course of time not a few of the Latin ones, especially the poets. He used to say that he had read the whole college course in Latin, and possibly in Greek, before he was matric- ulated. He recollected well that Dr. James P. Wilson of the First Church, told him that he was " a little 2yeri2KiMic philos- opher." This habit of pacing his study floor he kept up through life. He went to his first school about 1810-1811. It was under the charge of Madam Thomson, as the scholars called her, on the north side of Lombard street, below Third. He never could remember learning to read and write, nor did he ever have any distinct impressions about beginning Latin. About the time of the birth of his brother Addison, i e., in 8 OLD PHILADELPIIIANS. [1813. April, 1809, he began to go to the school of a Mr. Littell, and retained a disagreeable remembrance of "the squalid and dark appearance of the room," and the tricks which the rude boys used to play upon him, who, taking advantage of his smallness and timidity, appear to have fogged him dreadfully. His principal reminiscences of Lombard street were the marriages which took place in his father's study, his frequent visits to the market, the book-binder's, and the flour shop, the song of the oysterman, which I have often heard him sing, and the books given him by his friends. The family next removed to Fourth street below Lombard, west side, next door but one to Gaskill street. " And here," he records, " a crowd of early impressions contend for prece- dence." There he began to remember his father's preaching, the people that used to visit them, and the tradesmen with whom they had dealings. The house was occupied at a later day by a Major Linnard. In the neighbourhood was a choco- late factory in which James took much interest, and a gilder's shop, out of the windows of which were thrown the little red books in which gold-foil is kept. The little fragments of the precious metal he accounted a great prize. The coicp d''oeilo£ a print-shop two doors off from his father's house remained in his memory. Near them on Gaskill street was a mustard fac- tory. His father's study was here the front room on the sec- ond story, and in it were spent some of his son's happiest hours. His father used to give him, on slips of paper, a text for every day ; and these, when a certain number had been learned, he would redeem with small gifts of money. Dr. Alexander, with several others of the city clergy, took lessons in Hebrew about this time from one ITorwitz, a Jew, who after- wards fell into some degree of disrepute. The family commonly spent their summers at German- town, six or seven miles out of town, where they hired a small house for the season. This captivating region, as it is now, of suburban drives and cottages, of green and shadoAved lawns, and clambering exotics, was already beautiful, though plain and little celebrated. Old Dr. Blair was then alive, and ^T.4,: GEllMANTOWN. 9 James Alexander was often at Lis house. The Rev. Mr. Dunn "was the Presbyterian minister, and his son James's intimate friend. One of his little Philadelphia comrades was Silas, a brother of the late George Potts, D.D., of New York. One day an English missionary was addressing a large number of children, of whom he would collect hundreds, upon the journeys of St. Paul, and particularly his imprisonment at Antioch. Having finished his " preachment," he began to catechii5e the boys and girls on what they had heard. Among other questions, he proposed this, " Who was Silas's com- panion ? " George Potts answered with a very loud voice — "James Alexander, sir," — to the great amusement of the con- gregation. During all the time of their living in Philadelphia, so far as he can recollect, he was constant in the performance of the duty of secret prayer, had a very tender conscience, and was often exercised about the concerns of his soul. He was pleased at the thought that he should one day be a preacher, and once wrote a sermon, part of which was recovered and held in trust for him by one of his aunts. He went to school, v/hile they lived in Fourth street, to a Mr. McCleese, who had nearly 100 pupils, and used the ferule in Lombard street, the north side. Here he was taught read- ing, writing, &c. In Germantown he was put under the care of a Miss Hotchkiss, and all that he could remember was that he once was made to wear the fool's cap, with bells, and that he used to Avrite in Carver's copy-books. His first Latin teacher was the Rev. Samuel B. Hare, in after days his predecessor in Trenton, and then President of Dickinson College. He next went to the noted James Ross, author of the Latin grammar, whom he pronounced " an Or- bilius in severity, but a most accurate scholar of the old Brit- ish school." The famous pedagogue was wont to call his little pupil, "Alexander Magnus," in allusion to his diminutive size. Ross scourged the elder scholars unmercifully, but James must have pleased him, either by his deportment or his recitations, for the crabbed master always treated him with positive affec- 10 JAMES ROSS. ^^^^ tion. Years after, he sent his old pupil, who wasby this tmae a well-known clergyman, Stockius's Greek Lexicon, with a kind inscription, which was doubtless not in the vulgar tongue. Dr James Alexander had no recollection of the sermons he heard in Philadelphia, except one from his father in commem- oration of the burning of the theatre in Richmond, which was printed, and from which extracts were taken by his biog- rapher. Once, indeed, he went witli Martha Jones, a negro servant, to St. Thomas's African Episcopal Church ; where, and, as I believe, for the only time in his life, he saw the rite of confirmation solemnized by Bishop White. His father he says, sometimes took him (I presume on week days) to the Komish chapels; and he retained a lively impression of the music, vestments, incense, holy water, * &c. It is now high time we were inquiring about the early lue of Addison, who at the latest date involved in the preceding narrative was little more than a mere babe. Addison was a little Hercules, even in his cradle. There was never a moment's doubt as to the boy's capacity, and it was alwavs evident that he was destined, if he lived, for some- thino- o-reat. He was regarded as a prodigy before-he left his nurse'^arms; but the accounts of his very early days are, as usual in such cases, provokingly slight and fragmentary. When but a few months old, at a time when infants of the common order manifest scarcely any signs of intelligence, I am informed his perceptions were singularly quick, and his evident appreciation of what was said to him was truly wonderfuL The materials out of which the story of his childhood will have to be made up are too meagre to afford much satisfaction to those who are curious in such matters, and may perhaps not be thought to bear out the impression produced upon the minds of all who came in contact with this remarkable boy, that he was gifted from the first with faculties of the highest * These particulars of the Pliiladelphia life are for the most part abridged from a manuscript by Dr. James W. Alexander, entitled " Recollections of my Early Life." The language is largely though not exclusively his own. ^T.4.] ANECDOTES OF ADDISON. 11 order, and that those faculties were ah-eady well developed at an astonishingly early period. Whatever may be the judg- ment of the reader as to the inferences to be drawn from the particular facts about to be recited, there can be no question in any reasonable mind that considers the unanimity of the witnesses who speak of this period, or that duly reflects upon the degree of mental advancement implied in the diaries of a somewhat later period, that the boy Addison was worthy of being mentioned among les etifam celebres. The lew anecdotes which are preserved of this i?eriod will doubtless interest some on account of their unquestioned au- thenticity. They also shed some light on the character and disposition of the man, which were in many respects, and more than is usually the case, the same with those of the boy. When he was still in the arms of his nurse, his mother was in the habit of saying to him, " Addison, say your prayers : " upon which he would shut his eyes, place the palms of his hands together, and look up with an appearance of solemn reverence. When he was about two years old, his father read one morning, at the daily worship of the family, the eleventh chap- ter of the Evangelist John, in which the account is given of the raising of Lazarus. Addison seemed to have listened at- tentively to the narrative, and in the course of the morning, when but one person was in the room, was observed to take a small book from the table and place it in a corner on the floor, and after standing over it for a short time, was heard to say in a loud voice, " Lazarus, come forth : " immediately after which he placed the book on end. On one occasion he was sent by his mother to carry to his father's study a manuscript in which she had been placing a stitch. On leaving the study he turned round to make a bow (which was an accomplishment that had been lately taught him), but stepped too far back and fell a short distance down the staircase, which was immediately at the study door, and fractured his collar-bone. His brother James, who was then a little boy of seven, was immediately despatched for the late 12 ANECDOTES OF ADDISOH. tl813. Dr. Jolm Dorsey, at that time rising into eminence as a surgeon, wlio promptly repaired to his assistance, reduced the fracture, and secured the arm to the breast in many fokls of linen, •'secun- dum artem. While his arm Avas thus confined, Addison indulged in much of that playful humour which in after life so distm- guished him in the family. _ At the age of four years he remo^^ed with his lather's family to Princeton, which was destined to be the spot of his life-long residence, the place of his early education, the field, more than any other," upon which, in after years, he was to deploy his splendid abilities, and which was to be the theatre of his ex- traordinary labours and hard-earned unregarded fame. It was here too that his body was to rest in hope. He was at this time a gentle, retiring, observing, thoughtful cliilci— full of animal spirits and genuine humour; the delight of the household, the astonishment and despair of his little school-fellows ; invariably attracting the notice of every vis- itor by the sparkle of his wit, and the originality of his re- marks. There is to some minds a strange beguiling pleasure in the attempt to trace out the localities which have been the home of men of worth or talents. Princeton is ten miles from the State capital, in Mercer county, and lies embosomed in a very lovely region, of late years made more pleasing and fragrant than ever before. It is the centre of a Avide circumference of cham- paign country, broken in the rear of the town by abrupt rocky barriers, and' terminated in the extreme distance on several sides by a faint wavy line of blue hills, which sometimes shine with a light as soft as that of Pentelicus, but are often nearly invisible! The level fields and graceful laps of tilled suriace composing this fine prospect show every token of thrift, plenty, and the most careful husbandry. The whole is dotted over with snug homesteads and orchards, and intersected Avith neat fences. Ked and Avhite cattle are everywhere to be seen browsing upon the close-cut pastures. Through the midst of plain, 2;rove, green protuberance and meadow, the landscape is etreaked by the sinuous current of Stony Brook, or as it is Ail. 4.] PKINCETON. IS known fit one romantic spot, Pretty Brook, a stream of pellucid brightness when not troubled by rains, and that, as it glides within its tortuous avenue of tall trees, whispers to itself le- gends of Revolutionary battle. From the heart of the town itself there are a number of in- viting views commanded by those buildings which are lavour- ably situated. One of the best of these cheered the eyes of Dr. Archibald Alexander for forty years, as he sat in his study wrapt in thought but now and then darted glances of admira- tion through his south window. Another broad and grateful prospect enlivens both sides of the main thoroughfare where, after penetrating the town, it goes on easterly towards Kings- ton. Still another of these refreshing pastoral landscapes, though in some particulars the same with one of those just mentioned, is thus described by Professor James Alexander in his unpub- lished journal for Saturday the 19th of May, 1838. Alluding to his keen enjoyment that year of " the placid raptiire of spring," he writes as follows : " From my soiUh study window the prospect is delightful; hill, fprest, field and orchard— it only lacks mountain and water. In the background, Rocky Hill begins to show a feathery green upon its thickest forest. On this side and next to it stripes of green graiufields ; and still farther hitherward, as the ground slopes down toward the laro-e and lovely orchard just in the richest bloom !" The street which passes in front of the College branches some hundreds of yards beyond it to the west into two beau- tiful village roads, which for years have been studded with dwellings and gardens. On one of these is Morven, the seat of the Stocktons, adorned with the oldest of elms, catalpas, and walnuts, and on the other, under its own ample summer shade, is the Theological Seminary. Between the two lie the Lenox Library, the beautified grounds of the late John R. Thomson, Esq., and the green turf and trim hemlock hedges of Profes- sor Wm. Henry Green : while far to the west and some distance beyond the borough limits are the delightful groves, parterres^ and winding walks and drives of Judge Richard S. Field. 14 THE COLLEGE. [1813. Of course this description belongs to the town and its en- virons of to-day, not in all the particulars mentioned, to the surroundings of President Green. If Princeton cannot lay claim to the rows of mighty elms which have thrown their immemorial charm over New Haven, it has nevertheless an abundant shadow not only from the elm but from the maple, the sugar maple, the paper mulberry, the buttonwood, and the weeping-willow, with here and there a forlorn relic in the shape of a half-extinct Lombard y poplar. In June and July the place is now fairly embowered in foliage. Its College lawns are not greatly surpassed in New England. Its public buildings are picturesque, and on every account well deserving of attention at the hands of the antiquary and the scholar. Its libraries are important and costly. Its literary and theological name has long been honoured on both sides of the Atlantic. It can show an imposing catalogue of Alumni, and can count among its nursing fathers not only men like Dickinson, Burr, Davies, Finley, and Green, grave masters as these were of the old-time piety, learning and eloquence, but "that prodigy of metaphysical acumen, Jonathan Edwards,"* that intellectual giant and almost universal genius, Wither- spoon, and that scholar of magnificent and princely gentleman- hood, Samuel Stanhope Smith.f The town of Princeton is intimately connected v/ith the Revolutionary Annals. The President, Dr. Witherspoon, who for obvious reasons was regarded with a peculiar enmity by the Royal army, fled from his country home at Tusculum, * Robert Hall in the Sermon on Modern Infidelity. \ Samuel Stanhope Smith. — " A little later, we who first saw these shades in 1812, recall the venerable form of the President, as he laid aside bis symbols of learned rule ; beautiful and lordly in his decay, unsurpassed in our [mem- ory] for perfect gracefulness and a stateliness which had lost all that was once [considered] as pomp. He crept to the retirement where he renewed his [early love] of classical [studies] with two beloved grandsons, one of whom has been for twenty years in Teru. And we, my beloved coevals, of 1819, joined in the concourse which followed the remains to the cemetery, where you have seen his tomb which you have visited." — Centennial Address, 1847. ^T.4] NASSAU HALL. 15 "taking only a wagon-load of his effects, and driving his stock before him." Onthe22dof July, of the same year, two stories of the college were full of Hessian soldiers. On the 1st of Jan., 1111, Mawhood's brigade were quartered in Nassau Hall,^- and made their barracks in the dormitories, using the base< ment for their stables. Nor is this believed to be the first instance of such outrages. The college lawn is said to have been covered with their crimson uniforms. Washington, as all the world knows, retreated from Trenton, on January the 2d. A little after sunrise, he exposed himself before the lines at Stony Brook. This was the commencement of the battle of Princeton. The Hessians in the college building ran out tumultuously at the front doorways, on the approach of the American troops, and fell back to New Brunswick. The mark of a ball from one of the American cannon was at one time to be seen 'near the projection of the old Hall.' Another cannon ball entered a window, and struck the portrait of * I^assau Hall. This was the name suggested for the old college building by Governor Belcher, under whose fostering care it was erected. His words are still preserved. The original thought was to call it Belcher Hall. The worthy Governor seems to have been also the first to suggest, and in this very letter to the trustees, in 1756, the motto of the Cliosophic Society. " I take a particular grateful notice of the respect and honour you are desirous of doing me and my family, in calling the edifice lately erected in Princeton by the name of Belcher- Hall ; but you will be so good as to excuse me, while I absolutely decline such an honour, for I have always been very fond of the motto of a late great person- age, Prodesse quam conspici. But I must not leave this head without asking the favour of your naming the present building JVassati Hall ; and this I hope you will take as a further instance of my real regard to the future welfare and interest of the college, as it will express the honour we retain, in this remote part of the globe, to the immortal memory of the glorious king William the Third, who was a branch of the illustrious house of Nassau. * » * « And who, for the better establishment of the true religion and English liberty, brought forward an act in the British Parliament, for securing the Crown of Great Britain to the present royal family, whereby we now become happy under the best of kings, in the full enjoyment of English liberty and prosperity. And God Almighty grant, we may never want a sovereign from his loins to sway the British sceptre in righteousness."— Extracted from a slip of an old newspaper, which is made use of in the Centennial Address. 16 REVOLUTION AKY INCIDENTS. tl813, George II., tearing it from the frame, which has since been graced by Pcale's full-length of Washington, and the death of Mercer. A mess of the 40th regiment of British had ordered a breakfast in the President's house, and were just sitting down to it when the ilring began. That breakfast was eaten with appetite by the American officers. The college, became a hospital for the wounded, and so continued to be for six or eight months. During these bewildering changes, tiie old Hall was sadly knocked to pieces. Every perishable part of the structure was destroyed. " The wood- work was used for iiiel, and the apparatus, including Rittenhouse's orrery, was demolished or injured." There is still in the space to the rear of the old college, and in the very centre of the enclosure formed by the ancient edifice and the new buildings, a thirty-two pounder left by the British in their fright, which was abandoned by Washington " on account of its carriage being broken." There is, of course, a legend con- nected with this old piece. The Continental troops occupied the college as barracks till about the fifteenth of June of the same year, and as an hospital, from the first of October till the twenty-third of November of the year following. The chcirch was repeatedly desecrated, being occupied continually " by every party pass- ing." After this, Dr. Witherspoon granted two rooms to the tailors of the Jersey Brigade. The grant expired, or the tailors yielded their claim, some time in April, 1780. "The college was entirely disbanded, and all regular business was interrupted for two or three years." * The Congress met in Princeton in 1783. A letter from the Rev. Ashbel Green, D. D. (afterAvards President of the College), to his father, dated Nassau Hali, 5th of July, 1783, gives a bright and cheerful glimpse of the place as it was at that day. '' The face of things is inconceivably altered in Princeton within a fortnight. From a little obscure village we have become the capital of * In tlic above narr-uive I have made free use of the Centennial Address, and other sources of information. Mt.i.-\ REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. 17 America. Instead of almost total silence in the town, nothing is to be seen or heard but the passing and rattling of wagons, coaches, and chairs, the crymg about of pine-apples, oranges, lemons, and every luxurious article both foreign and domestic." The Congress papers, which had all been lodged in college, amounted to about five or seven wagon-load. The members sat from 1 1 to 3. The day before, he had had " the honour of delivering a declamation before them on the dangers and advantages of Republican government." After which ho received an invitation to dine with them. "Dinner began about 6 o'clock. It was a public occasion — all the Congress, foreign ministers, and gentlemen, with the faculty of the col- lege, and some gentlemen of the town, to the amount of 70 or 80, were present." In the evening sky-rockets and a variety of fireworks were displayed, and Vv'ere repeated on the evening of the day on which he w^rote. At one o'clock a salute of thirteen guns was fired in the front Campus. After dinner the President gave out as many toasts, each of wh:ch was accompanied by a discharge of artillery. " I retired to my chamber about 9 o'clock." * One of the matters that was engaging the attention of this important body, was a proposal from a gentleman oi" Vir- vinia to exhibit "a method of working a boat of twenty tons burden by the force of machines, with only one man, with- out sails, against the tide, so that it shall run eight miles in an hour; with the tide twelve miles in an hour." Princeton, on account of its salubrious air, has been hap- j)ily styled the Montpellier of America.f It is the seat of one of the oldest institutions of academic learning in the counti-y, and also of the most celebrated of the distinctively Presbyte- rian schools of theology. In addition to the charm of the land- scape gardening, and of the surrounding scenery of nature, it could always boast a considerable number of highly cultivated * Culled from a slip of the "Daily News," wliicli is given entire in the Centennial Address. f By Dr. Witherspoon. See Life of Dr. Archibald Alexander, p. 385. 18 THIRST FOR KNOWLEDGE. [1818. men and women and attvactive households. But the noblest part of Princeton, after all, as many love to think, lies sleep- ing in its venerable graveyard, vrhere, enclosed within massive walls and shadowed by giant trees, repose the ashes of nearly all the former college Presidents, and of Dod and other col- lege professors ; as well as Samuel Miller, Archibald Alexan- der, James Waddel Alexander, and now, amidst the verdure of nine years, of Joseph Addison Alexander, of the Theologi- cal Seminary. Whatever may happen to the rest of Prince- ton, it may be safely said of the old cemetery on Wither- spoon street, that it will continue to grow green with precious and hallowed remembrances, even as now, " incontaminatis honoribus refulget." After the removal to Princeton, Addison made brave ad- vances. His proficiency in study, and the ease and exactness with which he mastered the elements of knowledge, were almost incredible. It is impossible to point to the time when he did not know his letters. He soon learned to read, under the tuition of a young lady then resident in the family, who has since that time been made a widow, and is believed to be now living in Texas. Once possessed of this delightful and invaluable art, his appetite for books became perfectly insa- tiable. He was never at rest. His thirst for knowledge was unquenchable and constant. He hungered after his intellec- tual pabulum as a carnivorous animal hungers after his prey. His eyes never wearied in the attempt to decypher unaccus- tomed characters. The strangeness of a foreign language was no invincible obstacle in his path. He would get hold of an old grammar, or part of a grammar, or else make one for himself that would answer for the nonce ; he would disinter from a heap of waste paper and forgotten volumes some ven- erable dictionary, with the back gone and many of the leaves torn out or hopelessly defaced, or in lieu of that he would store his mind with the new vocabulary as he went along. In this way he soon learned to knock a language to pieces, resolve it into its structural parts, and examine its hidden machinery; and all this he did with a vehemence of impulse ^T. S.] LOVE OF BOOKS. 1* and a rapidity of work that must have been very startling to the other boys, and v/as sufficiently surprising to all who were in any measure acquainted with his habits. But most of these efforts were put forth in solitude, and he did not care to speak of them to a living soul. Some of the facts here mentioned did not come to light till long afterwards. He was at this time, in all strictness of speech, what is called an omnivorous reader. He read literally every thing that fell in his way. This was one of his characteristics in after-life. Though he often checked himself in the indulgence of a taste for general literature, the propensity was always strong. Though he had habituated himself to the most se- vere °and rigid courses of study, he did not disdain to read the smallest newspaper, or even the almanac. I have often heard him say, in response to a question about some par- ticular book of travels, then just out, that " all books of travel were interesting to him." Though at all times a recluse, sup- posed to be conversant only with what was in books, the say- ing of Terence was applicable to him, and not only in regard to books, but in reference to every thing else, humani nihil alienum. He woiild look out of his open window, as he gaily turned the huge leaves of his folios at Princeton, and see more of human nature in an hour than some men would see in a twelvemonth. But I am anticipating. At the time I speak of, there were in the^ garret in his father's house certain old worthless books, that had been thrown away with other rubbish, and had many of them passed entirely out of recollection. There the boyish scholar would sit for hours together devouring the contents of these volumes. Among the works thus read was an old romance called "The Midnight Bell," a book full of horrors and mysteries. He used often to speak with zest in after years, of the terror with which he gloated over the dark and bloody revelations of this story, in the silence, solitude, and gloom of that unfinished and unfurnished attic. . . There was an odd mingling in him of the solitary and social tendencies. From early childhood he showed a disposition to 20 RAPID GllOWTH. C1S13. communicate his stores of knowledge to others. When about six vears old, it was his daily custom to repair after the evening meal to tlie kitchen, anl read aloud to an aged black womai^who was cook in the taraily, trom Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, stopping every now and tlien to explain and coni- men't. as be went\aIong. This may be said to have been his lirst exegetical exercise, as well as his coup d'essai as an ex- temporaneous orator ; and visitors were sometimes taken to the door which separated the kitchen from the apartments of the family, and would stand there, as if riveted to the sj^ot, lisleninu- to the boy-interpreter, amazed at the display of so wondcrhil a talent for language and exposition in a mere child. At a period somewhat later he became possessed of a copy of Miss Edgeworth's Tales of Fasluonable Life, and grow- ing deeply interested in ttaem, he was not satisfied \ ndl he ha'tl read "them aloud to another old black woman, who had succeeded his first pui)il in the culinary department of the household. His advancement in learning Avas now^ progressively rapid. It seems to have resembled the quick but regular and healthy budding-out of vernal plants during a favourable season. It was uo^iot house vegetation that was thus maturing. There was no turning of the natural processes. The ripening cliange that was going on was normal — spontaneous— joyous— and at the same time uninterrupted and sure. The growth ot the luimtn mind is always a surprising and edifying study. The process is carried on while men sleep. There is something apparently automatic about it. The seed cometh up of itself, the observer knoweth not how. The movement is conducted through a variety of stages, " Hrst the blade— then the ear- after that the full corn in the ear." Great geniuses do not seem to be exempt from this universal law. The mightiest scholars have had to begin with the alphabet. Pascal rediscovers without assistance, and in childhood, the mysteries of geom- etry, but he has to proceed like other mortals, step by step from the definitions ; and his attainments are sticcessive, and in the order prescribed by the experience of ages as a ueces- ^T.6.] BEGINI^INGS IN LATIN. 21 sity of the human intellect. But in the case of these pene- trating and comprehensive minds the rate of progress is increased indefinitely, and the results are sometimes so mar- vellous as to appear incredible. Such an one was Joseph Addison Alexaudei*. As soon as he was able to understand the meaning of English words his father began to teach him Latin. His habit was to write out for him each day a number of Latin words on a slip of paper, with the meanings in Eng- lish, and make him commit them to memory. The same plan was pursued with his other sons, and subsequently with his grandsons. It Avas not long before Addison had thus com- mitted a thousand of these Latin vocables. In due course of time the number had amounted to many thousands. This was the foundation of that enormous vocabulary which was after- wards to be of such incalculable service to the commentator on Isaiah, on the Psalms, on the Acts, on Mark, and on Mat- thew, and the remote origin of that classical scholarship which shines with no dim or uncertain lustre in every page of his somewhat voluminous writings. It is instructive to notice here that the same method precisely of commencing the acquisi- tion of a new language was followed by the polyglot-Car- dinal Mezzofanti,* who afterwards so much excited his mar- velling curiosity.f The chosen playmate and most intimate friend of James Alexander, was Edward Kirk, novv^ the Rev. Edward N. Kirk, D. D., of Boston. Dr. Kirk has " no distinct recollections of Addison beyond some very minor points." His shyness and quietness, his studiousness and gentleness, embrace the sub- stance of his image as it hangs on the walls of his fancy. " The only external fact I can recall, is his walking about while James and I were playing ; he with a little card in his Land, on which his father had printed a list of Latin words with their English equivalents, to be committed to memory." Thus it was that the happy linguist began to train that quick * See his Life, by President Russell, of Miivnooth. f In one of bis later letters to his brother James, he pronounces the Italian linguist " a marvel." 22 INTRODUCTION TO HEBREW. D819. and retentive faculty, which in later life enabled him to call up at will almost any thing he liacl ever treasured in his mind. It is easy to picture the stout little fellow, Avith his bright affectionate flice, and checks like lady-apples, and his alternate fits of studious abstraction and uncontrollable liveliness. He was the delight and pride of the house. But the young scholar was now to enter a new and bound- less field for his exertions. He was to break the lock from the Semitic tongues, and to obtain an easy mastery over several of the languages of the Orient. As soon as he was six years old, or thereabouts, his father wrote out for him in the same manner as before, the Hebrew alphabet, of which the little philologist soon possessed himself, and thus laid the groundwork of his subsequent proficiency inthat and kindred languages. At a somewhat later period, the same kind and capable hand prepared for him a Hebrew grammar, adapted to his years, which manuscript w^as carefully preserved by the youthful Hebraist, and was in his possession at the time of his death. That old manuscript Hebrew grammar, in the well- known handwriting of Dr. Archibald Alexander, is now one of the family treasures. The title-page of that grammar is now before me, and reads as folio v/s : "HEBREW GRAMMAR, ■WITH THE POINTS, Translated from Lcicsden^s Compend of Buxtorf, FOR Joseph Addison Alexander. Princeton, New Jersey, A. D. 1819." This date furnishes us w^th pretty exact information as to the time when he commenced the regular study of Hebrew. It was when he was just ten years old. He could read the letters almost as soon as he could read English. What extra- ordinary advances he afterwards made, in this and cognate languages, we shall presently have occasion to notice. ^T.10.] OTHER ORIENTAL LANGUAGES. 23 Little Addison taught himself to write, and was able to do so before the family were aware of it. He soon acquired that firm, be:uitiful hand, with which his friends are so familiar. An extract from a letter Jrom his father, to his aunt, Mrs. Graham, dated July 22, 1817, gives an exact view of what he was at this time : " Addison is also learning Latin, and greatly exceeds all our otlier children in capacity. He does not equal James in quickness, nor Wil- liam in memory ; but in the clearness of his ideas, and his steady at- tention to whatever he undertakes to study, he is greatly superior to them both. He has written several poems, but they are not worth sending so far." The following account* by one who was the teacher who prepared him lor college, is almost literally correct, but Addi- son began Hebrew and Arabic, and perhaps Persian and Sjriac, at least two years before the date of his connection with that gentleman as a pupil : "Whilst pursuing his studies with me, Addison (or 'Addy,'asth9 boys called him) commenced studying by himself the Hebrew language, and had made considerable progress in the Arabic before he entered College. I am not aware that he had at thnt early period of his life done much with the modern languages. In after years his acquisitions of both ancient and modern languages included nearly every one that is really worth learning. The Hebrew, with the cognate languages and dialects, he mastered when he was quite a young man. French, German, Italian, and other modern languages he next learned, includ- ing even the Turkish. The last languages which he acquired were the Danish and Ci>ptic. What is wonderful about his linguistic attain- ments, they were in many cases made purely for the sake of the litera- ture, (poetry, &c.,) which they contained." This is an anticipation of disclosures that will be more fully made in the sequel. For the sake of giving a glimpse of what was going on at Princeton about this time, I insert here the following extracts of a letter from Dr. Archibald Alexander to one of his wife's relatives in Virginia, which was written when Addison was * In the Presbyterian of November 5th, 1853. 24 PRINCETON UNDER DR. GREEN. 051% ten years and one month old, and wLicli has never before been published. The whole letter exhibits much of the shrewd discernment of human nature, and knowledge of what was passing around him, which so distinguished this venerable man, and contributed so much to his character for wisdom. We may also see in this simple and homely letter the traces of his amiable feeling towards all, and of his affectionate dis- position towards those with wliom he was nearly connected. "Pkinceton, 2Iai/ 26 th, 1819. '< Dear "Yonrs was received tlie day before yesterday. Since I wrote before, noihing wortliy of notice has occurred among us. Mr. Men- telLh arrived here la^t evening, on liis way home from a long Soutlieru tour, which he took to solicit money for building a church in Detroit. Mr. Rice and his Avife are in Philadelphia, but I have not been there, nor do I expect to go tliere, as I understand that they will not extend their vi>it to this place. Mr. Rice is the Moderator of the General As- sembly, and preached an admired Missionary sermon last Sumlay even- ing. Dr. Hill and Mr. Wilson of Fredericksburg were also there. " I have this inornins; seen a letter from Armstrong. He appears innch engaged in liis work, and very nnuh pleased. He says he would not exchange his situation as a poor missionary at present, for the best congregation in the land. Peters has gone to the Northeast. Hunter is licensed and preaching in this State, under the commission of the Femiile Missionary Society of this town. " The Seminary, for the last week, lias been nearly de-erted. Pierce, Wisner, and Davies were the only persons seen about it. Wisner is a fine fellow. " William * has entered the Sophomore class half advanced. I had no idea that he would be adniitte 1, but he insisted on trying, and waited nearly three d;iys to be exnmined. I neither went with him nor sent note or message to the faculty ; but when he was introduced he acquitted hims^^lf in a way so masterly that Dr. Green was delighted, and told him he had never admitted any one with more pleasure in his life, and spoke of his elegant examination to the gentlemen wlio Avere in his house." Addison's early education was almost entirely domestic, * His second son. ^T. 10.] PASSION FOR MUSIC. 25 for though before entering- college he attended a variety of schools, in which all the usual branches were taught, be w^as up to the time of his entering these schools under the sole tuition of his flxther, to whom he owed more, even in the way of mere learning, than to any other living man. Nor is it toe much to say, that at the time he entered the first of these schools, Addison if judged by the ordinary standard had al- ready " received his education." This is a somev\'hat precari- ous assertion, but I hope to be able to show in the sequel, that at the time Addison entered school ho was in point of scholar- ship in advance of many when tlicy leave college, and are said to be " educated men." It is difficult to say, w^e can only reasonably conjecture, in what relative order his remarkable powers first gave evi- dence of their existence, or what was the secret history of their successive or simultaneous appearances and steady and symmetrical development. He early showed a love of, and a taste and talent for music, and had he devoted himself to the cultivation of this gift, it is the opinion of one v/ho was fully acquainted with the facts at the time, a contemporary and chosen play-mate, and who is himself by no means insensible to the " concord of sweet sounds," that he would have become as eminent in this department as he was in that to which he applied himself. This is saying a great deal. The expert commentator had certainly a fine ear for music. There had long been lying about his father's house an old bamboo cane or stafi". This staff was hollow, and had been perforated with holes as a flute. It also had a coarse common key. When about ten years old he took up this old cane flute, and upon it began to play. He studied and copied music, and learned it systematically. After practising for some time in this way, he was presented with a small octave flute, which after a iew years v/as succeeded by a large one. He became a proficient on the instrument, and for many years the use of the flute was his favourite recreation. One of my first recollections is seeing him with a yellow flute in his hand or at his lips. He often played in my hear- 26 EUROPEAN AKI) AMERICAN CHOIRS. [1819 ing, during my early boyhood, but it was for liis own amuse- ment, not mine. He preferred being alone on tbese occasions, and then I dare say his delectation was often great. He ren- dered simple and melodious airs with what afterwards struck me as perfect accuracy and much sweetness. I never heard him attempt any thing hard, but on the other hand I never heard him attempt any thing which he did not execute with consummate ease. His brother James w^as himself a delight- ful amateur flute-player. I never heard the two brothers play- ing in the same room. ^ Among the pieces thus melodiously rendered by the younger brother, was an affecting air which I shall always associate with an Arabic song, about a rose, which he was accustomed to sing to it. His voice was a high tenor, and plaintively sweet without being strong. He was fond of sing- ing hymns, imderstood the mystery of "notes," and once pointed out to me a new tune, which has rung in my ears ever since. I also remember his song of the scales* and one of the tunes sung by his ghosts.f His European journals are full of allusions to the chants and chorals and masses he went to hear, but in these foreign diaries (which were designed to be a m'ere record of facts) he has, for the most part, sedu- lously suppressed all outbursts of feeling. When he v/as in the mood for it, he would talk with enthusiasm of music he had listened to with rapture in London, in the chapels of the English Universities, in Strasbourg, in Berlin, in Rome. He heal-d a boy at Cambridge who " had a voice like an an angel." But of all he ever heard he spoke with greatest admiration of the effect of a great number of priests' voices, accompanied by the organ, that on one occasion almost overpowered him, if I mistake not, at Rome. He sometimes affected to know nothing, and care nothing about music. This was his humour. He despised the poor American imitations of the Old-World rituoliftm. He had a certain esthetic sympathy with the gor- o-eous cathedral service of the Old World. For the florid to * A pretty tune bringiug in the eight notes. f These ghosts were characters in some of his stories. ^T, 10.] INFLUENCE OP THIS TASTE ON HIS SERMONS. 27 and effeminate church music of the New World he had none. He ioved the plain old tunes, and regarded the old-fashioned congregational psalm singing as the true way to worship God. He was sometimes irritated by the fastidious perti- nacity of choirs, and never could understand the importance of " having the hymns." Yet he never failed in courtesy towards the musical gentlemen who solicited this slight but sometimes annoying compliance. He would say goodna- turedly enough that the choristers who were most i)articalar about " having the hymns " could do best without them, and that he had noticed that the singing was always better where the hymns were not given. He probably meant in this deli- cate way to express a preference for the time-honoured tunes whicli are so apt to be lost sight of in the prevailing lust for novelty and for music such as is heard on week-days in the theatre or at the opera-house. Some of the most impassioned pages in his printed ser- mons are strongly coloured by his native fondness for sweet voices and majestic harmonies. His unprinted sermons con- tain, perhaps, an equal quantity of this sort of writing, in which (especially near the close of the discourse), as by an accumulation of all his gifts and attainments toward a com- mon centre, he makes painting, architecture, music, poetry, learning, genius — all he knew, all he imagined, all he lelt, all he was, do tribute to the cross of Christ, or else shed a blaze of light on the joys or sorrows, the terrors or the glor'es of the eternal world. He exulted in the deep, mysterious, yet glorious organ-tones of the Revelation, revei'berating as from afar with the roll of tumultuous waters. Pie actually seemed to have caught the sound of the " harpers harping with their harps," and the swelling cadence of that song, which peals like successive strokes of thunder through the Apocalypse, " Alleluia, for the Lord, God, omnipotent riignetb." His imagination v/as from the first rich and vivid, and it is hardly a figure of speech to say that in his solitary hours he erected many an airy castle in the clouds, fought many a 28 IMAGINATION AND FANCY. [1S19. visionary figlit, nncl attended many an illustrious but unreal audience on cloth-ofgold. There can be no doubt Avliat ever, from the weight of authentic tradition on this subject, tliat as a boy Addison was a true child of genius, a dreamer of chivalrous and stately dreams, a hearer of voices and a beholder of faces and actions such as can be conjured up by no sorcery of earthly enchantment. He thus created for him- self au imaginary world in whose fantastic but exquisite and varied enjoyments he continually revelled. The love of the preternatural and the intellectual exerted a joint sovereignty over his childish feelings. He could say Avith Shelley* : " While yet a boy, I sought for ghostf, and sped Through many a listening chamber, cave and ruin, And starlit wood, with fearful steps pursuing Hopes of high talk with the departed dead." But in all this there does not seem to have been a particle of what is called absence of mind.f These reveries, if such they could be called, were indulged in solitude — never in the company of others. Moreover, during their continuance, the mind was ever present and intensely active. Sometimes, especially as he grew older, the imaginary scene merely afforded field and play to his common sense— his ingenuity— his laughing wit and humour — the heartiness and vivacity of his animal spirits. This was his sport — his recreation. For he too had his hours of mental relaxation, though he spent them very differently from his fellows of his own age. It was characteristic of him that he found pleasure in wdiat would have been to others nothing but toil. With him duty and satisfaction ran in couples. As a lad at school, he seems to have been nearly alw^ays in good spirits. He made every thing around him conducive to his enjoyment, and w^hile unre- mittingly engaged in the pursuit of knowledge, was as bright, joyous, and perfectly happy a boy as the sun ever shone on. * Hymn to Intellectual Beauty. + This is in some measure an inference from his later hfe. He was the least absent-minded man I ever knew, and has scourged this infirmity in his liscourse on the text, '' Watch." ^T. 10.] INTELLECTUAL AMUSEMENTS. 29 Solomon tells the sluggard to go to the ant, for a lesson in diligence, and the improvident man to go to the bee for a lesson in wisdom. This wonderful hoy probably stood in little need of instruction from these sources, but there wax unother species of animals, the fowls, to whijh he loved to repair for his diversion. A large number of chickens on the place were called into requisition to minister to his enjoyment. He gave to each a name, and organized them into a " chicken- college." * He arranged them in classes, and printed in his fair round hand a catalogue of the matriculates. He also devised, and issued in the same way, a curriculum of study which they were supposed to be pursuing. He conducted imaginary examinations, and published the names of those who were j^roficient in each department. He would announce public exercises — oratorical exhibitions, &c., prepare bills of the same, and publish accounts of the performances. He would announce annual commencements, put forth programmes, and give reports of what occurred on these festive occa- sions. In all this there was the same completeness of plan and the same scrupulous nicety and finish of detail, which marked every thing he ever did. In this innocent way would he spend hours of leisure which most boys would have devoted to pure idleness or even mischief. In company with the brother immediately older than himself, he would on holidays or when not engaged in study, go to a room where they would not be inteiTupted, or to a secluded part of the grounds, and would there organize with him a sort of moot-court, (the two acting alternately as judge and advocate,) and would imagine causes, civil and criminal, argue cases, harangue and charge unseen juries, and render verdicts, or give judicial opinions. A favourite amusement was indicting and trying a black boy named Ned, a servant in the family. Sometimes they would erect themselves into a congress and declaim on topics of public interest, and in this way entire mornings and after- noons were not unfrequently consumed, the sessions sometimes * He afterwards amused some of his little friends among the children in the same way. 30 THE BOYISH ORATOK. C182a lasting unintcrruptcclly for mraiy successiA-e hours. The usual arena for these intellectual contests was a chosen place at the hack of the garden. Here they would resort and " speechify " till the sun had visibly and greatly changed its place in the heavens. These legal and senatorial eflbrts were no ignoble training for a life of oratory. The brother* who shared with the soi-disant advocate and politician in these entertainments, testifies that any readiness in public speaking, any knack of prompt reply, any appearance of selt-possession in embarrass- ing circumstances, and any facility in adapting words, acts, and circumstances to the occasion, and pressing them into his service, which have stood him in stead during a long and active professional and public life, he ascribes to these early intellectual and forensic efforts, taken up, as they were, at the time as a mere matter of amusement. Sometimes the two boys, both of them being gifted with remarkable powers of memory and fluency, would personate the different professions and callings in life ; they would be lawyers, doctors, merchants, mechanics, officers civil and military, etc., etc., and would carry on dialogues, sometimes grave, sometimes gay, for hours. It was to be expected that one so richly endowed with poetic faculties, and poetic tastes and sympathies, and so richly stored with the proper material for poetic composition, should turn his attention to the subject of verse and rhythm, and even put forth early essays in this style. Such we find to be the case. His earliest effort in metre is a piece composed in 1816, when he was about seven years old. It is an imagina- tive flourish on " the Seasons," and is not devoid of a certain ex- cellence. The melody is perfect, and some of the epithets are happy. This was immediately followed by one on the Telloio Fever, and is marked by the same well-defined rhythmical structure which is conspicuous in his later eftusions, and in some degree the same masterly command of language which could at all times bend the simplest words to the exigencies of the most measured cadence. This trait is singularly ex- emplified in some powerful lines entitled " Monosyllables." * The Hon. W. C. Alexander. ^T. 11.] FACETIOUS TURN, 31 Tet lie now and then inrlulged in cliildren's games, perhaps for the amusement of others, though they were never of the ordinary kind, and always gave evidence of humour and origi- nality. Mrs. Alexander, one day hearing a noise made by some children up stairs, as if applauding or laughing obstrep- erously, went up to see what it was. " She found in the room Addison and a parcel of children. In one corner of the room a counterpane suspended, formed a curtain. Mrs, A. peeping behind the curtain, discovered a small boy dressed up in red flannel, monkey-fashion, and seated. It thus proved to be a monkey-show, and Addison was the showman." '^ But in general it was true that he found his chief pleasure in pursuing mental or manual diversions, and none at all in the favourite sports of boys, in which a good deal of exciting bodily exercise is called into play. He dwelt alone. He looked out of his studious window with a kind of speculative interest upon the green where the lads of his own age and " set " were hard at work flying the kite or scampering after the ball ; bat he was not of them. His joys were of another realm. Mr. Alexander, through life, took a strange pleasure in no- ticing people that had any laughable peculiarities, whether of looks or manner, or as evinced by some absurd remark. He would bring up these things years after, and would turn their comical speeches into household proverbs, or would bring the tears into his eyes as he rehearsed their little adventures, Mr. Charles Campbell apprises me of the fact that a lady of Staunton, Virginia, now deceased, once gave his mother, Mrs, Campbell, an account of a very odd-looking and pompous little preacher, before unknown, who in these days visited Dr. Alexander and staid all night. " He was of an outre appear- ance, looking like some kind of queer bird, vara avis in terra.' He was quite conceited withal, and had a way of asserting trite truth in a very emphatic tone, e, g. straightening himself *• This incident has been preserved by the venerable Mrs. Campbell, of Petersburg, Virginia. 32 FIRST EFFOIITS AT VERSE. [1S19. up he would exclaim ore rotimdo, ' Dr. Alexander, I am firmly of the opinion that mankind by nature are totally depraved.' This eccentric little minister had the manner of a bantam cock. Towards bed-time, becoming uneasy lest the stranger should tarry all night, one of the boys inquired whether if he did, he would sleep in his bed? to y.'hich Addison replied, ' No, he will roost on the testei-.' At prayers the stranger officiated, and happened to read the CII. Psalm: 'By reason of the voice of my groaning, my bones cleave to my skin. I am like a pelican of the wilderness : I am like an owl of the desert. I watch, and am as a sparrow alone upon the house- top.' "When he read these ornithological verses, it was with difficulty that the ladies could repress their risibilities." I give below extracts from another piece which he wrote about the same time. It is certainly good, to be the produc- tion of a very little boy : "THE PAEPJCIDE. " Ah ! who is that with glittering blade, Standing beneath the elm-tree shade. The tear-drop glistening in his eye. His bosom heaving with a sigh. Why does he turn and fearful start. And lay his hand upon his heart ; Why does he start with conscious guilt, And grasp his sabre's shining hilt? He turns and rushes to the tide, And cries — ' I am a parricide ! ' But who comes there ? 'Tis Osman dire, His bosom burns with generous ire, Juan to desperation driven. One poisoned arrow from the seven, His quiver held one poisoned dart. Drew forth and hurled at Osmsai's heart. False to its aim the arrow fell. ^T.IO.] EARLY POETICAL VENTURES. 33 But human tongue can never tell The rage that flashed fiom Juan's eyes When he perceived he'd lost his prize. Another dart to end the strife He hurled ; — it took brave Osman's life." The t^yo following pieces were written in his eleventh year They both exhibit a marked increase in the poetic power, but are chiefly interesting as shedding a curious light on the char- acter and extent of his childish studies. The first is entitled— " SOLITUDE. " Now in the eastern sky the cheering light Dispels the dark and gloomy shades of night ; And while the lowing of the kine is heard, And the sweet warbling of the songster bird; Where from afar the stately river flows, In whose briglit stream the sportive goldfish goes ; Where the thick trees afford a safe retreat, From public eye and summer's scorching heat ; There let me sit and sweetly meditate, Far from the gleam of wealth and pomp of state. And while I listen to that murmuring rill Whicli pours its waters down the neighbouring hill, I can despise the pride and pomp of kings. And all the glory wealth or power brings. Here in deep solitude remote from noise, From the world's bustle, idleness and toys, Here I can look upon the world's vast plain, And all her domes and citadels disdain." The next, which was was written in the same year, afibrda us a j)leasing glimpse of the boyish student and a charming picture of his early recreations. It is entitled — " THE PLEASUKES OF STUDY. " The setting sun's resplendent shining ray Illumes the West and brings the end of day ; And now across the mirthful village green. Returning school-boys with their books are seen ; Who, wearied with the duties of the school, Rejoice to enjoy the summer ev^ing cool. 2* 84 EARLY ATTEMPTS AT rvHYMING. tiaW The bcjrgars also wander tliro' the street, Entreathig chanty of all tb. society. It combined with his delight in study to make him more of a recluse than his friends dusired him to be."* Perhai)S no one was more struck with his cleverness and versatility than the head of the Academy himself. The " com- positions " of his round-faced little scholar greatly and espe- cially attracted hira. On this point he says : "At that early period he displayed much talent for writing. At twelve o'clock every day it was my custom to require two of the boys to read each a sketch of one of the deities of the Roman and Greek mythology, or of some of the heroes or authors of ancient or modern times, or of some country, or of some portion of history. The ei>itonies which he produced were always excellent. Even then, T may aid, he had a great fondness for writing stories fir the small boys, in wliich he displayed great tact as well as taste. A fondness for this sort of amusement he retained, I believe, to his dying day- passing from tlie gravest and severest studies with the most extraordi- nary ease to the writing of pleasant and interesting stories, and pieces of poetry for youthful minds. He began also at that time to be an editor. 'lie established a weekly journal, writing every word in snch a way as wonderfully to resemble printing. I have forgotten the name of his periodical; but I remember that an opposition paper soon appeared, and as might be expected, it was not very long before I had * Dr. Baird, in the Presbyterian. Mt. 14.] GREAT INDL'STRY. 43 to sunvrcss both — the first and second ^warninr/'' which I gave on!} provoking both editors to say some very bold things, things which encroached too much on my inagijleriul prerogatives." )i* In n letter to Mrs. Graham, dated July 22, 1823, Dr. Alex- ander refers to Addison's extraordinary industry, his Homeric studies, his penchant for the law, his aversion to teaching, his joy at finding some Persian manuscrii3t, and his admiration for Sir William Jones. The greatness and goodness of Jones always seemed to exert an iniluence on him whenever he had occasion to go to liim for pleasure or instruction. '• Addison is at home, not loitering, but engaged fourteen hours of the day in hard study. He read five books of Homer in one week, and is o-oino- through the Odyssey as well as the Iliad. Unless the o-race of God should prevent, the law will probably be his proies.sion. He is fond of legal disquisitions. But I never heard him express an opinion on tlie subject of a profession. To teaching he has a strong aversion, which is the case with all my children. Addison has found two old Persian manu- scripts in the College Library, and the very sight of them o-ives him pleasure. I can see very plainly that his admira- tion of Sir William Jones influences him in all his literary pursuits." An interesting relic of this period is given below, which bears this inscription : " An Arabic transLition of the title-page of ' Waverley,' by Jos. A. Alexander. "Princeton, August 20, 1822." The facsimile of a page of oi-iginal Arabic, composed and written by a boy of thirteen, will be regarded as a literary curiosity. There is another specimen of this kind of the same date, and his journals of subsequent years are full of this flexible but difiieult character. There are also letters of his extant *Tlie reader will be amused by comparing this account of the suppres* siou of the weekly paper with that given in these pages by Mr. King. 44 FACSIMILE OF ARABIC. [1823. svritten partly in this tongue. But the fragment here given is, not only from its early origin and its occasion, but also from its subject, probably the most singular memorial of his oriental studies. ^. «« ■ His old teacher, Dr. Baird, has put his hand to the discrim- ^T.14.] AT SCHOOL. 46 inating judgment of Ids cavly poAyera as a linguist, which I give below : "I cannotsay that he was remarkably accurate iti liis knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages when he first came to me, although he had read nearly every author that was required for entrance into the Freshman class. But such was his progress in two or three years that he became a remarkably fine scholar, entered the College with high reputation, and took the first lionours of the Institution.* I have never seen a better classical scholar at the age of fifteen than he was. Nor was his knowledge of mathematics much inferior to that of the Latin and Greek languages. He wrote Latin, both in prose and verse, with great ease and purity. Many of his imitations of the Odes of Horace were admirable. Towards the end of his course in the Acade- my he could i-ead with ease several pages of Herodotus orThucydides, or two hundred lines of Homer in an hour. " During almost all liis course with me he taught for nearly an hour every morning and afternoon one of the lower classes, and he did it well. He was a great favorite with the boys. He was sure to have a crowd around him, if he came lialf an hour or more before the school opened. On tliese occasions his diffidence always left liim. He was the master- spirit in the Literary Society of the Academy, as well as in the Moot- Court, which the boys held once a week, where he was sure to be em- inent, whether he acted the part of the judge or that of the advocate." As to his disposition to stick to his books, and his geniality of feeling, ho adds the following handsome testimony : "For reasons which I have stated, Dr. Joseph Addison Alexander was never fond of going into society ; but he was far from being of a morose disposition. On the contrary, his feelings Avere genial, and his attachments were sincere and enduring. His delight was in his books, and in the society of his intimate friends. But he had neither time nor inclination to go into company." * Several of those who were fellow-students of Addison in the Academy have become men of more than ordinary usefulness and distinction. One of them, who is now Judge Napton, of the Supreme Court of Missouri, was hia classmate both in the Academy and the College, and shared with him the high- est honours of the class in both. It was impossible to determine which of them was the better scholar. Judge Napton may have his equal in the knowl- edge of law, but I am sure that he has no supeiior, either in legal or classical attainments, in all the West. 46 TRENTON llEMINISCENCES. C1823. I might add almost maofiintcly to the testimonies already given. °A few more may be appended here. Dr. George M. Maclean, the brotlier of the President, and, as I haye reason to remember, a skillful and accomplished physician, writes as follows : "I remember Lim as a boy of unusually great promise, one Ha- in advance of those of bis years in attainments. He associated but little with other boys." This was when he was a school-boy, say of ten or twelve. I also feel .at liberty to mention the name of James Ewing, Esq., of Trenton, who carried off the highest honours of the class of 1823, and who does not hesitate to express himself m similar terms. He has told me that though he saw little of Addison in those days, he remembers distinctly that his extra- ordinary promise as a scholar was matter of general talk iu Princeton. He says he was exceedingly fleshy, with a lace that hloomed with health and high spirits. A venerable lady livincr in the same town (Trenton), who is now upwards of eio-ht°', and long a ^alued friend of the family, confirms both 'of these statements, and adds that she recollects one occasion in particular, on which his father called Addison up to his knee and made him recite Latin words to her. This was when he was a very little boy. The same lady also recalls to mind a meal that she once took in his house after his father's death, and how singularly charming and entertaining he was. Mr. Comfort, who is himself a teacher of many years standing, has informed me th?,t Addison's recitations at this time wel'e faultless, and that his manner of making them was very similar to his manner in after life when lecturing or preach- ing without notes. He says that his fluency of speech, and nuOTing accuracy of expression, were quite as remarkable at this, as°a': any later period. He would pour out his words with vehemence and rapidity, in a sort of clear, steady, nnd voluble torrent. He always got a perlect mark. His habits of solitary study and segregation from the mass of liis ^T. 14.] TRAITS OF CIIARACTEll, 47 fellows, were already formed. His gentleness, liveliness, and sparkling wit and humour, when in a happy frame of mind and in society he loved, were just as conspicuous as aiter- wards. He also occasionally exhibited the same high-toned firmness and frankness of character which, in some ol its mani- festations, always excited Avonder if not resentment among those who did not know him thoroughly. Just here I will say, that in my opinion he was one of the most intrepidly honest, as well as, when so disposed, one of the most open-hearted and generous-heart ed of men. The brother who sat by his side at Mr. Baird's school, testifies that Addison was then, as he was al- ways, noted for his singular truthfulness. This was a remark- able trait in his disposition. The brother to whom I refer never knew him flinch from telling the plain truth about any thing. This peculiarity charactenzed him throughout life, and was one cause of his giving offence sometimes. He " came right out with a thing," as we say, where many would have smoothed or softened a little, at the expense of strict veracity. He seems to have held to the opinion once advanced by John Randolph of Roanoke (but now not much in vogue), that candour is as great an ornament in a man, as modesty is in a woman. He never learned, and certainly never practised the wiles of small dissimulation which, though undoubtedly re- pugnant to the strict Bible standard, are not flatly condemned, but are rather tolerated, if they are not expressly sanctioned by the canons of the world. He was indeed a stranger to many of the arts of society which are unquestionably innocent ; but there was a fount of native politeness in his heart, and no hjo-h-bred courtier ever knew better how to cliarm. His eye had a merry twinkle that is indescribable, and that resembled bright sunshine glancing over blue seas. His cheek was fair and rosy ; his head was too broad and massive for the impres- sion of simple elegance, but his features were delicately regu- lar, and his face was round and decidedly comely. His hair was dark brown — chestnut brown, and thin ; his lip was chiselled like a piece of statuary, and expressed decision and resolve; it was like the lip of Bonaparte. His head was 48 PERSONAL APPEARANCE. [1328. large and broad, beyond almost any thing I ever saw in a per- son of his height ; and yet it was not at all too large for his body, and was jicrfcctly well balanced. His brow would have served a sculptor for a model of Jupiter. I doubt whether Webster or Cuvier had a much larger brain. His stature was below rather than above the medium, yet his bulk would always impress one as being very great. His tendency was always to corpulency. His figure and head have re- minded many of Napoleon. His face was certainly like the Napoleon at Fontainebleau of Paul de la Roche, It had the same air of concentrated passion in repose, though it had noth- ing of that look of fiery and intrepid gloom. His countenance was like a clear sky that might one day rock with whirlwind. When he laughed, there was a fine union in his face of mascu- line genius and childlike mirth. This picture is of course taken at a later period, but it corresponds in general with the accounts of his boyhood. One of his school-fellows says he distinctly remembers how " Addison " looked as he sat in the school-room wrapt up in his cloak, and mentions his fleshy person, ruddy cheek, and twinkling eye. The brother who studied with him says that, as when he had his father for a master, Addison while under these new preceptors never engaged in ordinary boys' sports. Even his plays partook of an intellectual character ; they were, for the most part, legal, forensic, or political combats, such as holding courts, having mock trials, editing news- papers, etc. It gives me pleasure to insert here several large extracts from a letter I have lately received from his school-mate and early friend, Mr. Khig. Mr. King, writing from Marietta, Georgia, saj^s : " You have greatly contributed to my gratification, in put- ting upon me the task of communicating to you my recollec- tions of the youthful days of my highly esteemed friend, the late Rev. J. Addison Alexander ; thus bringing afresh to my memory the pleasures of my boyish days, and my intimate associations with one so much beloved ; but a lapse of over Mt.U.] MR. KINGS RECOLLECTIONS. 49 forty years has damped the ardor of youth, and put memory at fault. None however of my early friends have left more durable and pleasant impressions upon my memory, or which I have cherished with moi-e care. "My acquaintance with Addison was formed early in the year 1823, when I attended the Princeton Academy, then in the charge of Mr. Robert Baird ; and I continued in per- sonal intimate association with him until the flxll of the year 1824, when these relations were interrui^ted by my return to the South. I never saw him but once afterwards. We regularly corresponded for many years. His last letter to me was written about two years before his death. He was near two yeai-s my junior, but was then well grown, having indeed nearly attained his full height, with an excess of flesh; weighing, I think, over a hundred and fifty pounds. Tliongh very fleshy, he was always quick and sprightly. He had at this time a round red face, with brilliant and mis- chievous eyes, that were nearly always full of fun. Among strangers (whose presence he avoided as much as possible) he was very quiet and reserved, but so observing that their peculiarities supplied him with a stock of amusing comments for the gratification of his friends. With his intimate friends (very few in number) he was a most incessant talker, and so abounding in life, wit, and humour, that he was generally allowed to occupy as much of the time as he desired. His sarcasm was often of the most caustic nature ; kind-hearted as he was, his best friends were often made to feel the severity of his wit. His life and buoyancy when in the society of his chosen companions was extraordinary ; but the sudden appearance of a stranger as suddenly transformed him into a serious, silent boy, exhibiting all the modesty of a girl, but giving full employment to his eyes and ears. He realized, in a certain sense, the old figment of the duality of the soul. He seemed to possess two difierent natures. To one person, he appeared a boy of unbounded life and con- versational powers, to another his character seemed thought- ful and silent. He never betrayed any malicious feelings nor 50 MR. king's recollections. tl823. immoral tendencies. As a boy, his disposition lov placmg persons and things in a ridiculous attitude was extreme, and his powers in this direction were seldom equalled. His most valued associates enjoyed no privilege in this respect ; yet this strange treatment of those he really loved sprung from pure vivacity of mind, untinctured with any bitterness of fcelino-. He was a hard student then, as in after life, seldom wasting any time." Mr. King says that Addison » was fond of long walks in the country with one companion, and that he was generally the one to enjoy the pleasant walks with him, often to a distance of two or three miles from the town." He adds that "dui'ing those long walks his tongue was kept as active as his body. He had acqmred a large stock of knowledge even in those early years of his life ^'Hc was then considered a fine Arabic scholar, and per- fectly at home in the Latin and Greek languages. His general readino- was extensive, and he seldom forgot any thing he read, heard, or saw, and was very quick in bringing into use the stock he had thus stored in his remarkable memory. His compositions for school were written in the finest style, and were remarkably interesting." Many of these, says Mr. Kino- " I had taken possession of, and retained to read and re-reli'd in my after-years for the gratification of myself and my friends. So valued were these remains of his boyish eff^u- sions, that they, with his many letters written in his early and later years, were carefully preserved by me; and they would now be a treasure to you. But they are all gone; not a single one is left to me. His piece for a school exercise, on the 'Wandering Baboon,' an extravaganza founded on tlie supposed escape of such an animal from a menagerie m Princeton, exhibited the greatest talent as a descriptive writer, and the greatest powers of wit and satire. The youno- humourist represented the creature as rovmg over the Rocky hills lying north of the town, much to the dis- may of the honest country folk who inhabit that serrated Tido-e. Another piece in which he had collected together to coiwey his ideas all the difficult and unused words in our on the superiority of the ancients to the moderns, and urged many weighty arguments to prove that literature was more generally diftused among the Greeks than among any modern people. Gained much useful information." Every glimpse of this great and good man ought to be prized by the men of this day, who owe so much to his labors. Mr. James Alexander (whose brother Addison was now a lad of not quite fifteen, and on the verge of college) wrote frequently at this period for Walsh's Gazette and the American Monthly Magazine, and he was in no lack of letters contain- ing flattering allusions to these articles. He was much given to visiting the theological students at their rooms, and found himself constrained to adopt a resolution of greater tempe- rance if not of total abstinence in this respect. The social tendencies of Addison were not so ovei'bearing. It required no formal regulation or conscious purpose, to cause him to keep his room. In after days the elder brother was constantly making and breaking resolutions to " go abroad." He found that in his case solitude tended to pi'oduce hypochondria. I find him engaged during these days on Plautus, Terence, Homer, certain works in French, Turretin, Pictet, Hodgson's Travels, Marcus Antoninus, Leighton, etc. He wrote at the time, that he never expected to find studies more congenial to his taste and inclinations than those in which the Seminary students were then engaged, especially that of Didactic The- ology. On the night of the 11th of April, he had the pleasure of hearing Mr. George Bush, afterwards so famous first as a Scripture Commentator and then as a writer upon Sweden- borg. Mr. Bush had not very long befoi'e left the Semi- nary, where up to that time he had been pursuing his theo- 58 APPOINTED TUTOR. C1824. logical studies. The sermon was an admirable one, " rich in original and important matter, adorned with striking illustra- tions, and remarkable for the uncommon force of language." Mr. Bush sometimes reminded his friend of Chalmers in the novelty of his thoughts, and the power fu] mode he had of expressing them. The next morning he woke up to find him- self appointed tutor in the College of New Jersey, by the Board of Trustees, who were then sitting. This excited his wonder, and aroused some apprehension ; but he accepted the prolfered chair (or footstool), and on the twenty-first of May sat down where he had never expected to be situated in that capacity, a tutor of the college, and oscupant ex officio of No. 25 Nassau Hall. His first care was mathematics ; afterwards he was placed over tlie Latin and Greek classes. James was young, and exceedingly sensitive, and at this time a little shamefaced. He was one of the most mercurial of men. He was often deeply despondent, but just as often carried away with high spirits. He was prepared for many mortifications and trials. He dreaded among other things having to confront the whole body of students upon the stage, and to pass through their ranks, and head them in entering the Refectory. "My youth," he writes, " is likely to call forth the disrespect and presumption of some, and the exercise of that authority which I am called upon to assume must gain me the ill-will and ill offices of those who are its objects. Yet this is the tax which every man must pay, who is so happy as to aim at the welfare of his fellow-creatures." He found his position an easier one than he supposed. A fellow-student of his brother Addison, and pupil of the young-looking, but extremely dignified mathematical tutor, tells me that he vividly remembers Mr. James Alexanders spare person and deep black eye, and how he would draw himself up and place a visible constraint upon his mobile features when any ihmg of a laughable nature occurred. His hair and his complexion were boUi uncommonly dark. His head was high, and some- what narrow, and his face long and oval. His temples were finely moulded, and were unusually bare. The expression of iET.15.] CHARACTERISTICS. 59 his countenance was frank, noble, generous, intellectual, and in a singular degree captivating and engaging. It was for- ever changing with his changing feelings. He always stood upon his native dignity, and seldom or never had cause to administer a reproof for misconduct. The classical felicity of his taste and of his diction were subjects of marvel. Ilis piety was as evident as it was unobtrusive. He was eminently popular, without once letting dov/n the bars of discipline. By many, he was beloved with an extraordinary affection; by some with an almost passionate devotion. These remarks apply particularly to the time during which he occupied the chair of a professor, but are not false in their reference to the period of his tutorship. On May 22d he writes, "Made my first attempt to-day at hearing a recitation. The Sophomores recited to me in Algebra. Was astonished at nothing so much to-day, as the self-possession which I was enabled to exercise Ano rov Oeov. My room is an agreeable one ; my accommodations delightful ; the fare in the Kefectory excel- lent ; the students, hitherto, complying, and all things ordered in a way to suit my wishes." He resolves about this time to give one-tenth of his salary ($300) for charitable institutions. He was always open-handed in his expenditures of every sort for the poor, and for sufferers of every description. It was never hard to persuade him that the money solicited was needed, and would be well bestowed. The text-book in college was Bounycastle's Algebra. His taste for this study had been marked, and obtained public notice when he was a student. His enthusiasm on the subject is very much in character. "That the pursuit is deliglitful I have the experience of this day to prove : amid all the difSculties of this morning's toil, the delight occasioned by the suJden flashing of the truth or relation anxiously sought is transporiiiig. The ecstacies of Pythagoras and the abstrac- tion of Archimedes excite my wonder no longer." During one of his vacations he visited Philadelphia, in hopes of invigorating his health ; and there partook of the delightful hospitality of Mrs. Hall, the mother of the friend 60 VISITS PHILADELPHIA. [1824. whom he had known from boyhood and with whom he con- tinued to correspond for forty years. While in the city he yielded himself up too much, he thought, to the attractions of gay company and of seductive letters. He frequented the shops of the booksellers ; saw all the new prints ; gazed with delight upon the clean and lively streets and the decorated windows ; listened to much good music from sweet instru- ments and yet sweeter voices ; tasted all the joy of friendship, and felt the glow of what is judged to be innocent hilarity. He returned to his quiet room in college to experience a pain- ful reaction in his sensibilities. His conscience smote him on the score of Avorldly conformity. He became greatly revived in his religious ardour, and much exercised for the spiritual welfare of the students. On one occasion at a prayer-meet- ing his feelings overcame him, and he "burst into a pro- fusion of tears." A severe attack of sickness, which befell the older brother in this year, occasioned a letter of mock condolence from Addison in Latin hexameters, four verses of which are here given, which breathe an affectionate spirit and shed a twinkle of humour. " Crcde mihi, juvenis docilis, me maxime tajdet Audire scgrotum esse virnm, tarn longe celebrem. Pulveribus (quid tu Anglice vocas ?) te cumuiarint, Et medicus, veneranda materque, AnEliza, niger Ned." The piece will be found complete in the Familiar Letters. These comic effusions were often made the channel of true and even tender regard, as any one can see was the case in the present instance. The two boys were attached to one an- other with a devotion that is rare even among brothers, and that continued through life. There is a sense in which it might be said that Addison had no friend but James. When James died, Addison was restless and inconsolable, and soon after followed him to heaven. CHAPTER 11. The College of New Jersey was at this time under the Presidency of Dr. Carnahan, during whose administration it enjoyed a high measure of prosperity. Dr. Ashbel Green had but lately retired from the post. As a President he had been both feared and honoured. In the instructions of his depart- ment, Di-. Green had succeeded in reviving the traditions of a Witherspoon and a Smith. None could question his attain- ments in theology and the kindred sciences, and all without exception acknowledged and venerated his exalted character. He was moreover the master of a grave and sonorous elo- quence. Dr. Green was the last of the old school of Presi- dents, of whom Burr, Davies, Finley, Witherspoon and Smith had been, with Dickinson, the first of the series, the models in a former generation. The lamented Carnahan was the con- necting link between the old school and the new. The recent retirement of President Maclean marks another era like that of the retirement of Finley. The Vice-President and Professor of Languages was the Rev. Philip Lindsley, D.D., whose col- lected works have recently been published ; * a man of rare scholarship and of the ripest classical culture. It may be safely averred, that this country has not often seen the equal of Dr. Lindsley as a student and teacher of the Greek and Latin tongues, and as a man imbued with the living spirit of an- tiquity. He was a suggestive scholar rather than a mere drill- master, and was one of those instructors whose main forte * " The Works of Philip Lindsley, D. D., formerly Vice-President and Presi- dent Elect of the College of New Jersey, Princeton ; and late President of the University of Nashville, Tennessee. Edited by LeRoy J. Halsey, D. D., Pro- fessor in the Theological Seminary of the Northwest. 3 volumes. Philadeh phia: J. P. Lippincott & Co., 1866." 02 DE. LINDSLEY. [1824. seemed to He in bringing ont what is in the best men, A greatly honoured clergyman of the Episcopal Church in Vir- ginia is my authority for saying that, while he was at Prince- Ton, Dr. Lindsley was of invaluable aid to those students who knew how to use him. He distrusted his own administrative talents, which were not beUcved by the young men to be very considerable. In this impression the ybung men were proba^ bly mistaken. Dr. Lindsley was s nsitively modest, and at that time had not been tried. He also laboured under the de- lusion that he could not preach. In both capaciries, that of a teacher and that of a minister of the word, he afterwards showed himself to be a master. His life, as one of his most accomplished pupils and most ardent and grateful admirers has said, was preeminently that of an instructor and educator of youth. He set about the work of selt-culture before he was thirteen, and left the College of New Jersey as a graduate before he was nineteen. He began the work of teacher as an humble usher in an academy, and then filled successively the posts of tutor, professor, vice- president, and president of a college. All his writings and most of his discourses have a bearing on the work of educa- tion. Tliis was his meat and drink. The University of Nash- ville is his noble monument ; but nobler than all is the long rare of his pupils who have risen to eminence through his instrumentality. The range of his reading was so great, that there was scarcely a topic of interest on which he was not extensively and even profoundly informed. He was an accom- plished theoretical statesman, versed in the sciences of govern- ment, finance and polirical economy, and in all questions touching public morals, the administration of justice, and civil or religious liberty. His knowledge of the classics was almost unequalled in his day. His acquaintance with the Belles Let- tres of various languages seemed unlimited, and his love of literature was a passion. His administrative and executive ability is thought by those who knew him in the West, to have been of the highest order. He distrusted himself in the pulpit, and preferred 'the position of a hearer; yet his biographer. Dr. ^T.15.] HIS PUriLS. 63 Halsey, does not clovibt that " the grand element of his power and of his success was his magnificent preaching." He has left important monuments in his published writings, but, as one of his pupils,* who seems animated by a spirit of filial enthusiasm, well says, while these "show the brilliancy of his genius, the peculiarities of his mind, the ardour of his nature^ and the depth and earnestness of his spirit, his nobler works, — ' living epistles, known and read of all men,' are his two-thousand pupils, who, in all spheres of active usefulness, ha"\ e been perpetuating his influence; and having received from his generous hand the lighted torch of knowledge, they have handed it to the generation now succeeding, and thus the blazing link, growing brighter as years pass, shall continue to descend as an heirloom of priceless value." * * * Among these pupils were the Alexander brothers, who never ceased to speak of their old preceptor in terms of coi'dial regard and sincere veneration. Such men as Dr. Philip Lindsley arc blessings to the church and to the world. They can never be forgotten by those who prize the fruits of piety and sound learning. Their jewels they have left as a legacy behind them, in the persons of those who have received their impress, and are animated by their unearthly sentiments. By these their living memorials they will be remembered and honoured by children's children, when the titled desolators of history shall be mentioned only to be execrated. It is pleasant to know that Princeton was graced at this particular epoch with several literary clubs or debating societies, the meetings of which proved highly interesting to the youthful contestants. Chief among these, in the estimation of the young jDCople generally, were the Round Table and the Chironomian. The question before the Round Table one night was, " Ought religion to be supported by law ? " Mr. James Alexander advocated the affirmative, and was gratified to find that he had more freedom than formerly in speaking extempore. The question before the Theological Society of the Seminary, the week previous, * Chancellor Waddel, in the Southern Presbyterian Review. 64 POWER OF MEMORY. [1824. was upon the propriety of instrumental music in churches. Mr. James Alexander defended the negative. The elder brother of the two Alexanders was still in the seminary, and refers in his diary about this time to " my friend Bethune," who seems to have been a fellow-student. They were fast friends through life. This was the celebrated orator, debater, poet, rhetorician, lecturer, preacher, the Kev. George W. Bethune, D. D., afterwards of Brooklyn, N. Y. The name of this genial clergyman brings up an anecdote, which I may as Avell tell here. The minute history of these past times soon fades out, and the old inscriptions on the palimpsest are not often restored. Sometimes, it is true, the labours of some Pepys, or Evelyn, are brought to light, and tlie magical hieroglyphics start out once more before us in all their former significance. Dr. Archibald Alexander was always himself a firm believer in the doctrine, and was accus- tomed to impress it upon the minds of his classes at Prince- ton, which has since been illustrated in so solemn a manner by De Quincey and Coleridge, that we never forget any thing : in other words, that there is an important sense in which there is no such thing as forgetting. The word forget, as has so often been said before, is obviously ambiguous, being the opposite of remember as well as of recollect. The doctrine in question is that though we fail to recollect many things, and though there is the greatest diversity among difterent minds as regards the power of recollection, we never forget in the sense of failing to remember or hold in memory. The hidden tablets still retain the traces that have been originally imprinted on them ; and in the moments that precede death (or what would have proved to be death but for the interposition of Providence) these traces have been known to flash out upon the startled conscience with instantaneous rapidity, and with the most perfect and terrible distinctness, so as apparently to afford to the soul a sudden and comprehensive view of all that it had ever known. Dr. Alexander had been lecturing on this subject one day to his theological pupils, and the young men had repaired to the Seminary Refectory to get dinner, when ^T,l5.] PRINCETON OF 1824. 65 the conversation at table fell upon tlie topic tliat had been presented to them in the class-room that morning. One of the students was noted for a disposition to call in question the conclusions of his preceptor, and on the occasion to which I now refer boldly proclaimed his dissent from the position that had been cautiously taken by his venerable instructor. " I Jcnoio,^'' said he, " there are some things I have totally for- gotten, and shall oiever be able to recall !" Dr. Bethune, who was a student at Princeton at the time, and who was also boarding at the Refectory, a man through life distinguished for his sparkling wit and repartee, immediately threw the table into roars of laughter by crying out in his comical way, " Name one of them. Sir ! " I give this anecdote on the authority of the Rev. James W. Alexander, from whose lips I heard it. The Princeton of 1824 contained a number of well-known families and many interesting people, besides one or two justly distinguished public men. Dr. Carnahan, as I have stated, was President of the College when Addison Alexander entered it as a student. The Rev. Luther Ilalsey was Professor of Chemistry and Natural Philosophy ; Dr. Maclean of Mathe- matics, and my informant * thinks of Latin (temporarily sup- plying the vacancy occasioned by the removal of Lindsley to Nashville) ; and Robert B. Patton of Greek and Belles Lettres. The latter is considered to have been a fine Greek scholar, and a gentleman of cultivated taste and manners, though in wretched health. The tutors were, Messrs. Lowry, Talmadge and Aikman ; but with these neither Mr. Alexander nor any of his classmates had any thing to do ; he and Mr. Napton having entered Juniors. The standard of scholarship in the ancient languages (at least before Mr. Patton's advent) was greatly below that which my informant found subsequently at the University of Virginia : and none of the modern lano-uao-es were taught. " The old routine," he says, " or curriculum then prevailing in the Northern Colleges was not designed for * Judge Napton. C6 COLLEGE CURRICULUM. [1824 the attainment of the abstruse or profound depths or heights of science, or for its application to practical use, nor even for a scholastic and critical knowledge of Latin and Greek.* Gram- mars and dictionaries, those helps to the youthful traveller up the steep," were very imperfect, he thinks, as compared with the Zurapts, Madvigs, Buttmanns, Matthiaes, etc., since intro- duced; "and the classics were still read in the old Delphine editions with side-notes and ordo in Latin, and foot-notes to point out the most attractive passages." He is not clear, how- ever, that any greater proficiency is attained under the new system of adjuncts tlian under the old, rugged and rough as it was. The inquisitive and ambitious student Avill, he thinks, attain his end under either — perhaps more thoroughly under the first, " as people learn more of a country over which they travel on foot, than those who pass through it in railroad cars." The following picture of the old Commencements cannot be spared : " Commencement was a great day in Princeton in old times — it may be yet — but my conjecture is, that along with * Tlie Centennial Address has this alhision to the same subject : " The cur- ricuUim has been perpetually enlarged, with the increase of knowledge in the woild. . . . The earliest period of our history was before the very rise of certain great sciences in their present form." . . . And a little before this occurs the following : " Sound methods of instruction, rather old tlian new, have continued through every stage." The earlier Piesidents had all been learned men, in the most exact as well as the most enlarged sense. Their schol- arship, though it could not boast the exquisite finish of Oxford or Cambridge, was of the type then prevailing in the great universities of England. None of the first batch of Presidents occupied the seat long. But Dr. Witherspoon in his twenty-six years of administration stamped a new character on the instruc- tions of tlie college. To him must be ascribed the introduction of the Edin- burgh course. Much of this influence had worn out at the period during which Mr. Alexander was a student, and had again and yet again to be renewed and extended. The genuine learning of Dr. Lindsley was of the old school, and his removal from Princeton was a mjsfortunc that for the time seemed irreparable. Nor were there wanting other men of commanding talents in the faculty at this period. But it c:innot be asserted with too much cmpliasis that the future in- terpreter owed little to his professional teachers. He was an original genius ■•"!d " a self-made man." iEx. 15.] OLD COMMENCEMENT. 67 otlier old-fashioned institutions and customs, it lias gone to the ' tomb of the Capulets.' On this day, during my time, all the surroxinding country was (as Mr. C. J. Ingersoll \vould have said) ejaculated into the village, and such rows of wag- ons, booths, stalls, tents ; such huge piles of melons (out of season) ; such barrels of cider (a choice beverage in New Jer- sey) ; and such a concourse of people of every variety of shade and conformation, physically, morally and intellectually, could ba seen nowhere else." He remembers especially the bril- liancy of the fire-works and the illuminated College edifice at n'glit, which were the admiration of the youthful spectators. "Then there was the regular anniversary ball at Joline's tav- ern, who was successor to and perhaps onee the rival of the tamous English i)ublican, George Folct, whose sign of the Red Lion was still swinging between two posts in my days, though probably of ante-Revolutionary origin. This ball attracted ail the elite of the village, and some additions from the fashiona- ble circles of the two great cities lying on either side of it; and the music was by the famous Philadelphia band of Johnson." In regard to Princeton society, male and female, outside of the two great schools of theology and literature, the same writer says, " The Stocktons were the leading family of the place. At their head, in '24, was Richard Stockton,* a great * Whose father, Richard Stoc'cfoii (the grandfather of the Commodore), was a Judge of the Supreme Court, a member of the Continental Congress, " an ardent defender of liberty," and a signer of the Declaration of Independence. In this cause he suffered the loss of his estate and library, and personal imiorisonment in New York. He died at Morven, at the age of fifty. This was in 1781. He had been a trustee and warm friend of the college as well as of its great foun- ders. Of Richard Stockton (the father of the Commodore) " it is enough to say that, among the members of a bar which holds its place with any in America, he maintained by common consent the unrivalled precedence." " He was long til 3 honour of Princeton, and a guardian of the college. His voice of eloquent ;irguruent and lofty invective was heard in Congress ; and he sent five sons to the college, of whom one is now in a distant ocean on the service of his coun- try.'"— Centennial Address, 1847. Richard Stockton, the father of the late Commodore Robert F. Stockton of the Old Navy, died in 1779, the same year 68 PRINCETON SOCIETY [1824. lawyer, as I have heard and do not doubt ; having read his argument in a c-elehratcd and very important case that went up from New Jersey to the Supreme Court of the United States, involving the title of one Love to a large landed estate abandoned by him when the secession of the Colonies from Great Britain occurred. Mr. S.'s practice was chiefly in Trenton and Philadelphia. He was a large man, of rather un wieldly cimcnsions, bordering on extreme obesity, incapa ble of much locomotion on foot, and therefore I presume, was seldom seen in the village adjoining which was his resi- dence." He does not remember to have seen Mr. Stockton more than once or twice, and one of these occasions was indeli- bly impressed on his recollection by an mterview which he witnessed between Mr, Stockton and Charles Fenton Mercer of Virginia, vrho had been appointed to deliver a discourse be- fore the two literary Societies of the College. There was a mixture of the grand and grotesque about the scene. "They met in the Hall, where the Trustees, Professors, students and other spectators had previously assembled, and it was rather ludicrous to observe the extreme difficulty wliich Mr. Stockton had in responding with corresponding civilities to the multi- plied bows with which Mercer greeted him — the latter being a small and flexible person, of rather French manners, and botli gentlemen of the old school, which exacted more cere- mony than niodern times tolerate." The writer, after speaking of Mr. Stockton's gallant son, the Commodore, goes on to mention the Craigs and Potters, Thomsons and Fields, families which still have their representa- tives in Princeton, " and the Bayards, a family of historic fame both in Delaware and New Jersey." "Mrs. Maclean, the mother of the late President,* and sister of Commodore with President Witlicrspoon, wlio had shortly before given up his house on the College grounds to his son-in-Law Dr. S. Stanliopc Siuilh, and removed to the place still known as Tusculiim. * Of John Maclean, the father of the President, the Centennial Address says, " A name beloved in the recollections of every student, during the 17 years of his residence ; a scholar, a benignant friend, a wise preceptor ; one of the earli- mt.15.} and celebrities. 69 Bainbridge, a naval officer of great distinction in the war of 1812, Avas also there receiving friends and strangers with in- discriminate hospitality, and Avith her lived her danghter, Mary, the gentlest of lier sex, a model of every female excel- lence, and esteemed by rich and poor, high and low." My informant* then goes on to say that "near by lived the two daughters of Dr. Samuel Stanhope Smith, ci-deva7it President of the College, Mrs. Salomans and Mrs. Pintard, the former with two attractive daughters, one of whom mar- ried my friend and school-fellow, Alfred A. Woodhull. Con- spicuous among the fashionable ladies of the place Avere the Passages (of French extraction, as I infer from the name) ; the Thomases, one of A\diom married Mr. A[ston of South Carolina, and the other Gen. Lytle of Cincinnati, at one time a prominent Congressman from that district; the Whites; the Renshaws, daughters of Commodore Kenshaw ; the Mor- fords, daughters of an old Revolutionary soldier who Avas postmaster, one of whom married a McCormick of Winches- ter, Va. ; and I may add, a daughter of President Carnahan Avho married Mr. McDonald." Among the professional characters of the day, besides some that have been named, he remembers " the three laAvyers, Green, Bayard, and Hamilton ; a younger laAvyer of ability, but indolent, named Walter Shelton ; the Van Cleves, the father an eminent physician, — one of the sons, Horatio, now in the U. S. army ; the Woodhulls, the father being minister of the parish, and the oldest son, John, becoming distinguished est to explode the Priestleyan bubble of phlogiston, and to introduce the new chemical revelations of Lavoisier." Dr. Ashbel Green, the former President, ■was also living, though he had perhaps already removed to Philadelphia. Dr. Carnahan succeeded him before the time of Addison's entrance as a student. " The time has not come to write of living greatness and goodness. Otherwise we might dwell on the ten years' toil of President Green, whom we hoped to meet, but whom the weight of six and eighty years presses so heavily that he cannot revisit the spot where, years ago, he pronounced the valedictory in the presence of Washington, and received his personal applause." — Dr. J. W. AleX' andcr. Centennial Address, 1847. * I have made free use of Judge Napton's own words. 70 MR. JANVIER. 11824. in liis profession of medicine; tlie Wilsons, .Jolines, etc. Voild tout/''* * One of the most remarkable men in Fiineeton at the time was undoubtedlj a coacli-pahiter named Francis D. Janvier, who is fully described in ihe fifteenth chapter of the American Mechanic (see pp. tO, 8.0), under the style of August. This admirable person deserves mention by the side of such men as Pendiill, Eloomfield, and Ferguson. The author introduces his description with the fol- lowing lines from Wordsworth. * * * " Strongest minds Are often those of whom the noisy world Hears least ; else surely this man had not left His graces unrevealed and unproclaimcd. But as the mind was filled with inward light, So not without distmction had he lived, Beloved and honoured— far as he was known. And something that may serve to set in view The feeling pleasures of his loneliness, His observations, and the thoughts his mmd Had dealt with— I will here record." After a little further prefacing, tlie account runs on thus : " It is now more than twenty-three years since I became acquaintL'd witli a coach-|iainter in a village of New Jersey. At that time he occupied a very small shop adjacent, to a large building which was used by the coach-maker. Even in early youth I was led to observe something in the manner and countenance of this man, indidiive of superior reflection. I shall conceal his name under that of August, which will point him out to many who knew 1dm. As I advanced in life, I gained access to his painting-room and his dwelling ; and as he was particularly kind to young persons, I passed in his company some of the pleasantest hours which it is my fortune to rem.mber. August was then in tlie prime of life, and his cliaraeter and habits were fully unfolded. In looking back upon the acquaintances of many years, I can declare with sincerity, that 1 have never known a more ac- complished man. In his tiade he was exemplary and approved. His taste led him to make excursions beyond the spliere of hii diily work ; and I call to mind a number of portraits and fancy-pieces which ornamented his own hou. vant Jemmy McCarrier. He has been for many years head servant in the College, and has fulfilled his duties with a zeal and fidelity which are seldom witnessed. His greatest delight is to serve ; no office is too menial or too laborious for him ; he insists on doing favours, and with the true Irish spirit is oiFended if you decline to receive them. It is amusing to see him pacing about the College on a dog-trot, which his contin- ual errands, for many yeai'S performed always in haste, have made a habit characteristic of him. He seems always to be in the greatest possible hurry, and yet is punctual to the moment, and most minute in his business. His affection for friends and his gratitude to benefactors are fervent, and expressed with all the native eloquence of an Irishman. Rage too burns in him with sudden impetuosity, that while it lasts is furious, but soon dies away. If I wished a friend who would flinch from no danger and draw back from no sacrifices or privations for my sake, I would lay my hand on Jemmy." * Mr. Alexander, the subject of this biography, was matricu- lated as a student of the College of New Jersey, and entered And never, I vow, till the examination, Will I cease the bold anthem of Dinner Hurrah ! ' " The four last lines of the first stanza seem to be erased, but are obviously requisite to finish both the sense and the melody. What adds to the fun is that the fare at the refectory in those days was plain and bad enough for an an- chorite. * The father of the McCarryhers came over with three sons from " the ould counlhry," and is remembered by a Princetonian of the former days as a shriv- elled up old little Irishman, who lived at different times in two miserable houses in the environs of the college. When the parent died, Dr. Archibald Alexander preached his funeral sermon, and thus made a deep and lasting impression on the intelligence and feelings of the son, who "was taught in this way to look up to him with unmeasured regard and reverence. Before the Seminary building was put up and the oratory used, and of course long before the erection of the Seminary chapel, the families of the theological professors used to worship in the old college chapel, and my informant vividly remembers how every Sunday morning, in cold weather, McCarryher Jils used to place a covered pan of hot coals at Mrs. Alexander's feet as she sat in chapel. 4 74 MR. ALEXANDER IN COLLEGE. [1824. one of its advanced classes, at an age when the majority of boys are still at school, lie was only fifteen. He might easily have entered the Sophomore at fourteen, or the Freshman at thirteen, or even twelve, had he been so disposed, or had his parents thought it Avise. He was judiciously kept back, not eagerly pushed forward. No one ever had more prudent counsellors. He connected himself with the Junior class in the autumn of the year 1824, and at once took his stand among the first scholars of his class. This position he maintained during the whole college course. Nothing is known positively as to his examination on entrance, but it maybe safely in- ferred that it was entirely satisfactory. His scholarship was never known, either before or afterwards, to fail to come up to the most stringent tests which could be applied to it. The boys at the academy thought he knew as mueh Greek as Mr. Baird, and that it was impossible for him to be entangled amidst the intricacies of mathematics ; and some of his asso- ciates of the college fancied that he was superior on the score of his attainments to most of his instructors of the col- lege faculty. This was not only the enthusiastic estimate of youth, but the deliberate and mature judgment of riper years. But whatever may be the impartial decision upon this point, it is certain that he had no superior among his fellow-students in the branches embraced in the usual curriculum ; and in the various branches of learning outside of that curriculum, it was cheerfully conceded that he distanced the others so far, as to put all ideas of competition out of the question. But no one regretted this state of things. He bore his honours meekly, and was universally regarded as the prodigy of Nassau Hall. The men were proud of him. - They regarded him as one of the bright ornaments of the institution! His standing as a scholar was equal and iiniform, being the same at the end of his final term as it was at the beginning of his course. There was nothing in his progress through college to arrest at- tention, except his assiduity, his punctuality, his accurate and eminent scholarship, and his scrupulous fidelity in the per formance of eveiy dntj. ^T.16.] HIS SPEECHES. V5 In the autumn of 1825 he was one of the four selected bj the American Whig Society to represent that society on the night before Commencement, in its annual oratorical contest v/ith its CIioso|.)hic rival. His subject on this occasion was " Monachism,''' and it Avas treated in such a manner as to draw many discerning eyes upon the young orator.* The speech attracted markeji notice on account of its style, and the evi- dence that it gave of mental power and mature culture. During the ensuing winter he appeared again before a public audience, at the performance of one of the divisions of the Senior class ; the class being distributed by lot into four "divisions," as they were called, which appeared successively, at intervals of a few weeks, during the Avinter. His subject this time was " the Fire Worshippers,''' a theme which gave full scope for the exercise of his rich and exuberant imagina- tion, and the gorgeous drapery in which he clothe 1 his ideas on this occasion, was a topic of general remark, and was much admired. At the summer exhibition of the Senior class he again ap- peared before the public, and again made the pillars of the old chapel shake with applause. His attention, as we know, had long before this been directed to tlie languages, literature, and history of the East, and he now looked once more in that quarter for a theme for his discourse. The thing he seemed to have in view was a defence or eulogy of the Moham- medan race. He spoke (says the brother from whom I have derived these particulars) in glowing terms of "that race which in former days had passed the Pillars of Hercules in the face of the Spanish chivalry, had built the mosque of Cordova,! t^e palace at Seville, and beautified and adorned Castile and Aragon with those delicious gardens and foun- tains which made Spain the paradise of the world." He * Another of his college efforts was on " Russia," and some of its brilliant sentences are still in preservation. f '' the regal seat Of Abdaldzis, ancient Cordoba." " till they saw 76 AT COLLEGE. t^^^a pictured with grapliic power the arrival of the day " when the magnanimous Arab shall with his own hand plant the Cross tTpon his own mountains; when the Christian anthem shall be echoed and reechoed from the opposite shores of the Adriatic, and the Christian's hymn of praise once more re- sound within the dome of St. Sophia." The following extracts of a letter from Thomas Flournoy, Esq., of Bentfield, Brunswick County, Virginia, give an excel- lent picture of the young scholar at this time. He says Addison " was a very remarkable boy, as he was universally conceded to be a most remarkable man. The im- pression with most of his compeers doubtless was, that he was naturally unsociable and taciturn. Such I consider a misap- prehension. We were classmates ; he was my junior by, I sup- pose, four or five years. I always found him very accessible. He enjoyed a good joke and laugh, within reasonable bounds. He was* a purely modest youth ; but his vast resources, even at the tender age I knew him, precluded every thing like diffidence, as I understand the purport of that word." He used frequently to meet with him on his longest walks from his father's house to the recitation rooms in College. "He Avas always pleasant and comnnmicative, and always kind and polite. I have seen him very much bored by his breth- ren of the Whig Society, in their zeal for the first distinction, by urging him to give more undivided attention to college studied '^I will not say he never thought about college hon- ' ours ; but I am certain he never expressed or manifested any concern on the subject." If he put forth any effort in that direction, Mr. Flournoy verily believes it was wholly to gratify the ambition of the Whigs. " I believe he could have gradu- ated with distinction the day he was matriculated. It waa The temples and the towers of Cordoba Shining majestic in the light of eve," Southcy, liodcricl; Book V. " And strangers were received by thee Of Cordova the chivalry." Byron. ^T. 16.1 HABITS AND APPEARANCE. 11 quite farcical for him to be reciting to professors whom he could have taught. I suppose it was altogether a formal re- quisition that influenced him in regarding a college curricu- lum as imperative." The writer was much taken with his friend's drollery and good-humour, as evinced in his college exercises. "He always manifested genuine wit, humour, and good feelings, in his pointed criticisms on compositions and declamations and debates. He never evinced selfishness, vain-glorying, or the least pride of superiority over his fel- lows, though acknowledged head, neck, and shoulders over all, by all. I don't believe he had an enemy on the earth. His high attainments for one so young and unpresuming, commanded the admiration of all without exciting the envy or jealousy of any." His general appearance, Mr. Flournoy says, was sedate and sober-minded ; but when in conversation, animated and sprightly. " I considered him blessed with a cheerful and happy temperament." His looks w^ere prepossessing. "He was very handsome, rather under the medium height, but stoutly formed, and with proper exercise would have been very muscular. He had a fair, ruddy, almost transparent complexion. His dress was of the most tasteful description, exciting no attention whatever. I looked upon him as one of the cleanest and purest persons I have ever known. His general walk and deportment was that of a consistent Chris- tian, though I am unable to say whether he was a professor." The first trip he ever made from home, Mr. Flournoy thinks, was with his father to New York City. " I heard Dr. Alex- ander say, laughingly, he never saw Addison but at meal- times and at night ; and supposed 'he was on the pad ' all the time, looking after the lions of the city ; but he ascertained the extent of his peregrinations was from the hotel to a large book-establishment, where he regaled himself during the days they were in the city." He never knew one so young take so little bodily exercise and keep so perfectly healthy; for he never heai'd of his being sick. The youthful intercourse between the two friends can 78 QUICKNESS OF PAllTS. a825. scarcely be said to have been renewed. Mr. Flouraoy re- turned to Virginia and lost sight of Addison. " I never had the pleasure of meeting with him but once after our boyhood days. I heard him preach in Dr. Boardmau's church in '48, and then had only a brief interview in the church." It must have been on this occasion (as he tells me himself) that Mr. Fiournoy could not resist the temptation of going up ijito the pulpit and shaking him by the hand.* He adds, in closing, " You will doubtless be surprised that I am able to furnish so few striking incidents in relation to Dr. Alex- ander ; but his was a quiet, gentle, and unobtrusive course to eminence." The account given in this letter of Mr. Fiournoy is a true sequel to the statements of Mr. King. It is evidently the same person that these two gentlemen describe; showing himself more completely and unreservedly, however, to the one Avith whom he was more familiarly associated in the care- less freedom of a village school, and with whom he was moi-e nearly connected in point of age, than with the other, who was also several years his senior, and who was his fellow only in his collegiate studies. We may also, perhaps, discover some signs of growth in character, manners, etc., since the playful satirist excited the mirth and aroused the admiration of Mr. Baird's academy by his scintillations of fancy, and wild bursts of fun at the expense of every body and every thing. He Avas now, according to all accounts, a short, stout, striking-looking, rosy-faced, marvellous-minded youth of seven- teen, Avith a remarkable head, that was stored with unknown treasures of strange learning, and possessing a quickness and versatility of parts that could not easily be matched. If he was reserved towards strangers, he on some points opened his heart to his nearest friends with the confidence and sim- plicity of a little child. To them, and to his juniors in years, he Avas almost uniformly gracious and afiable, if not dcraon- * He remembered his friend "Tom Floumoy's" shake of the hand, and referred to it when in Europe in 1833, in connection nith wliat he says of th« proverbial coldness of English manners. Mr.U.-i MANY-SIDED CHARACTER. 79 stratively affectionate : nay, there ^rere times when he abovmd' ed in exuberant and effervescent hilarity and pleasant mis* chief. A gentleman now residing in Charlotte, Virginia, who visited Princeton in 1828, with a letter to Dr. Alexander, tells me that Addison, who was some years older than himself, at once became his chaperon, and with the greatest kindness showed him the various objects of interest connected with the seminary, and among them the fine prospect which is com- manded by the cupola. This gentleman represents him as being at that time " the toildest boy he ever saw," explaining himself to mean the most talkative, sprightly, humorous, witty, gaily enthusiastic, and intrepidly frolicsome and mis- chievous. He says that his comical guide fired his shots at every body and every thing, but that the flame was of the most lambent character and hurt nothing. My informant adds, that Addison convulsed the little satellites by whom he was attended, and that he himself nearly died laughing. And yet this was the same person of whom Mr. Flournoy truly says, that "his general appearance was sedate and sober-minded;" though in conversation he considered him " animated and sprightly." The truth is, the boy, like the man, had almost as many sides to his character and genius as there were persons to look at them. lie was different to different people, and different on different days. He was like a kaleldescope in this, that you could never touch him without producing in your mind a new impression of his boundless variety. The destruction of the papers in the hands of Mr. King vrill always be a subject of regret to the admirers of Dr. Alex- ander, and to those who are inquisitive about the events of his early life. In the absence of these interesting manuscripts, I give a few extracts from a letter of Judge Napton to Wil- liam C. Alexander, Esq., of New York, bearing upon the same period : " You are right in supposing that no one could appreciate the gening and worth of your brother, Addison, more than myself, or had better 80 JUDGE NAPTON. n82& opportunities of understanding liis peculiarities -when WQ were both young. It would be difficult for me to express the great respect and veneration I Lad for your father — clarum et veneraMle nomen — and the great obligations I owed him for kindness to me in boyhood, and for wholesome advice (I have his letter yet) which was not thrown away, as advice usually is. "As to Addison, I looked upon him as one of extraordinary mind, and gifted witli a superiority of the imaginative faculty which Avas never developed, but which might have placed him among the Irvings, Coopers, and Pauldings of his and our day. Whether he acted wisely in devoting himself to other branches of literature, more congenial to his profession, I cannot say ; but I confess that I regretted he did not enter into a more popular department of literature, where he was cer- tain of success." * * * I am also indebted to Judge Napton for the following par- ticulars. It will be remembered tliat these reminiscences and criticisms are from the pen of the man who was one of his best friends, and without qualification almost his only rival of those days as a student. " Our acquaintance began at a very early period of our lives, and ceased before either of us could be said to have reached manhood. I can only speak in general terms of impressions and convictions then formed of the peculiar intellectual and moral traits exhibited by my friend. My acquaintance with Addison Alexander commenced, I be- lieve, on my leaving the school at Lawrenceville, then under charge of the Rev. I. V. Brown, and joining the academy at Princeton — a sort of preparatory school then just established by the Rev. Robert Baird, a gentleman subsequently well-known for his labors in Europe and his valuable sketches of them. Addison and I must have been at this time about fourteen years old, and our intimacy, which then sprang up, probably from some congeniality of tastes and studies, continued till the close of our college career, which was when we were each eighteen." * The most prominent and striking characteristic of Ad- dison Alexander at this period — at all events, the one which impressed itself with the greatest force on- his young com- * Addison, as we have seen, was a year »v two younger. ^T. IC] EARLY TASTE FOR LITERATURE. 81 panion, was "the extent and power of his creative and imaginative faculties, which, combined as they were with good judgment and discriminating taste, a remarkably re- tentive memory, and a facility of expression in language chaste, smooth, and elegant, fitted him, as I thought, for ultimate distinction as a great writer in the field of popular literature." His peculiar talent in this line exhibited itself at a very early period of their acquaintance, upon their publish- ing, or rather circulating in conjunction, " a sort of literary hebdomadal for the amusement of the school and for the young people of the town, to which he was the principal contributor. For this sheet he wrote tales after the manner of the 'Rambler' and 'Spectator' (in those days we read Johnson and Addison) ; poetical eflusions after the style of Swift, though by no means partaking of his uncleanness ; sketches of scenes and characters of a humorous sort ; with an occasional dash of satire, in the shape of advertisements or announcements of passing events, and all kinds of puerile badinage. He had a peculiar fancy and talent for imitations of the florid style of Eastern tales, and took great delight in perplexing the savans of the village with imaginary transla- tions from the Persian, Arabic, Hindostanee, or Sanscrit, etc., to all of which languages he was, of course, at this time a perfect stranger. His skill in the invention of names for his characters, appropriate to the country and time, was remark- able, and reminded me of a similar capacity so memorably displayed by the great Scotch novelist." He was, the writer remembers, fond of paradox : " Nothing delighted him more, when his school task was to read an essay, than to present views and advocate opinions at variance with those generally received, and probably at variance with his own. I remember an essay of his, read at the academy, set- ting forth the great superiority of a monarchical over a repub- lican form of government — a position then regarded as totally heterodox." Neither then nor afterwards, during his ac- quaintance with him, was he fond of metaphysical studies ; " though before the close of his college career he doubtless 4* 82 MORAL HABirS. dSMi was familiar with the ^iews of Locke and the Scotch meta- physicians." He often wrote at this time for the newspapers. "Durin- cur clleixe hfe ho occasionally contributed articles to the political newspapers, discus^ns with great apparent zeal tl,e merits of the then Presdential aspirants-a subject however in which he took no real interest, but in which he entered the lists en masque purely for amusement. " Besides the regular routine of collegiate studies, he explored every by-path of literature, however unf. equent.d, and there were probably verv fe.v books, on any brnnch of science, or in any department ut learnin-, which he had not h-oked into and formed some estimate of ^ " II?s facility in acquiring langnnges, both ancient and modern, is well known." His conduct was irreproachable. "In reference to his morale or moral habits at this period, it is im- possible to speak in terms which could be regarded as exaggerated com- mendation. He was, or seemed to be, purity itself; he appeared to hold in complete subjection all those passions and appetites winch so often lead youih astray.* His intellectual faculfes had the entire pre- dominance, and their cultivation and improvement was his sole care. He neither used tobncco in any form, or stimulating drinks of any kind; ho never uttered an oath nor engaged in any kind of games, noxious or harmless. " On the subject of religion I never heard him speak; nor oid he, during my acquaintance with him, attach himself to any religious de- nomination. <' In one respect his habits were singular, and perhaps not so com- mendable. I mean his almost total isolation— his aversion not only to crowds, but to all s.-cial intercourse, except of course with his father's family and a few, very few friends. And this seemed the more re- markable, as nature had given him a robust consti.utinn of body, a rather large and imposing person for his years, inclining even in youth to cn-pulency, a most cheerful, nay, qnite hilarious temperament, and withal a c.nsiderable propensity and talent for satire. These natural gifts, with acquisitions in learning so much in advance of his fe^ows, * Mr. Vandyke Jolme of Trenton, formerly of Princeton, another classmate at Mr. Baird's school, bears the same testimony. ^T.16.] HIGHLY GIFTED. 83 united with uncommon conversntional powers and a keen appreciation of tlie ludicrous, would seem to have fitted him for general society. But his aversion to it was insuperable, and, I have understood, wa« never in after lifo greatly changed. " I do not tliink it necessary to refer particularly to his scholarship. That he possessed higher natural gifts and far greater attainments than any of his age, hoth at school and college, was conceded by all who knew him ; and in all branches of learning embraced in the college course, and in genei-al literature outside of it, among hundreds of stu- dents of varied talent and industry, he was confessedly primus inter pares. In a word, nature and education had fitted him for almost any sphere of life he might select. Had he chosen that occupied by Scott and Irving at the beginning of the centui-y, and more recently by Thackeray and Dickens, I am persuaded he would have delighted the world by his imaginative creations and his charming, easy and attract- ive style. But he selected a more narrow, laborious, and perhaps use- ful path, of his success in which I am not competent to speak." There is much in this letter to set the mind to thinking, and to shed light on the inner history of our wonderful boy- student. It will be noticed that it is written in a very grave and cautious style, that every vvord is well-weighed, and that every influence that could prejudice the feelings of the critic seems to have been sedulously repressed. It was written, too, by one of the very few persons who really know any thing about the boyhood and youth of Addison Alexander from actual experience, and by one who was not only then abreast of the young genius in his collegiate studies, and therefore capable of appreciating his unusual attainments, but who by the natural bent of his tastes, and by the cast given his reflec- tions by his professional education and habits, and experience on the bench, was singularly well fitted to pronounce an intel- ligent and accurate opinion in the premises. The judgment here expressed may thei'efore be regarded as almost judicial. And what is that judgment ? That he was l)y far the most highly and variously gifted of his coevals of the school and college, and that his learning extended indefinitely beyond the usual boundaries. It is certainly a remarkable statement of Judge Napton's, that " there were probably very few books, 84 CIIAIIACTER OF IIIS MIND. [1825. on any branch of science, or in any department of learning, which he had not looked into and formed some estimate of," Addison's most extraordinary gift, he thinks, was " the extent and i^ower of his creative and imaginative faculties," and he almost regrets that his friend " had not turned his attention more seriously to the department of elegant letters, and espe- cially of romantic fiction." It does not appear that he thought him particularly distinguished at this time for powers of in- tellectual analysis. It is somewhat odd that a friend and pupil of Dr. Alexander, who however knew him at a much later period, after presenting (in a letter which will be given in the sequel) a masterly view of his preceptor's fondness for, and success in, the analytical processes as contrasted with the syn- thetic, leans to the opinion that he did not possess in any un- common degree the faculty of construction ; in other words, that his mind was essentially and exclusively an analytical one. These opposite statements must be combined and recon- ciled, before we can obtain a true conception of Dr. Alexan- der's real intellectual greatness. One of the most striking peculiarities of the case, to those who knew him long and in- timately, was the regular and equal development of all his powers. He had the same turn for science and for art. Each one of the faculties of his mind seemed to be u^hat it ought to he, without reference to any of the others. We shall have abundant occasion to show that he was as remarkable for analysis when a boy as when a man, and as remarkable for synthesis when a man as when a boy. The exegetical and critical exercises of his school days are as much marked by sagacious discrimination and acute, analyzing logic, as his later commentaries ; and the sermons and poems which were composed when he was at his meridian show full as much of "creative imagination" and marvellous constructive skill, as the grave or more fantastic effusions of his prodigal humour, which put all " the savans of Princeton " at fault during the time that " the sun shone fair" on Dr. Baird's academy. But the surprising thing is, that his school-fellows did not more generally or more fully suspect at the time, not only the ex- ^T. 16.] EQUALITY OF HIS FACULTIES. 85 ceeding brilliancy, but the extreme vei'satility of his mental powers, and the immense range of his scholarship. The truth was, Addison kept his own secrets. On certain subjects, ot when for a purpose it pleased him to be so, he was as silent as the grave. He took few into his confidence at all, and fewer still into the inner sanctuary of his feelings. To a very select circle he revealed something of his hidden life, but he always kept back a part. The half was not told them. No one of his young companions seems to have comprehended him thoroughly, or to have known precisely how he employed his leisure hours. At the very time he was supposed by one of the most congenial spirits he had in the academy to be writing imitatio7is of oriental tales and poems, he was filling column after column of Walsh's Quarterly with elaborate criticisms upon the Persian and Arabic texts. Another * of his school- fellows, who had also the opportunity of observing his career in after life, seems to have been impressed just as I am with the uniform equality of his faculties, and the rounded com- pleteness of his mental culture. He says his conviction was that Addison could do any intellectual thing he pleased. I may add on my own responsibility that he was emphatically, and beyond all men I have ever known, so far as regards the character of his mind, totics feres atque rotundus. His genius was, as regards its symmetrical form and finish, as smooth and circular as a polished ivory sphere. He could turn his mind to any thing, from a comic almanac or a child's dialogue, to bursts of eloquence in the pulpit, or a gush of impassioned and imaginative song, or to a j)rodigious refutation, or rather extermination, of the neological interpreters of Germany, f The writer from whom I have been chiefly qiioting looks back with lively pleasure on the newspaper venture in which he and Addison were interested, and towards which, he says, Addison was the principal contributor. There can be no doubt whatever that the latter loved to change his hand, write * David Comfort, Esq. f I feel that I am justified in the use of this language, by the example of others in this volume. 80 COLLEGE CLUB. a825. in different styles, occupy unwonted positions, and make in roads upon untrodden ground, and thus mystify the citizens of Princeton and even his most intimate acquaintances. This svas perhaps the diversion in vvhich, of all others, he most delighted. The friend from whose letter I have been making such large extracts, adds, in a postscript, "Thes3 labours, or rather amusements of his continued long after the cessation of our puerile 'weekly' at the Academy, and were sub- sequently, during the entire period of oui- acquaintance, published from time to time in a newspaper in Trentun, called the Emporium. Some of them may yet be extant."* I now cite as a witness of this time Mr. Charles Campbell, the author of the History of Virginia, who, though not a class- mate, was a contemporary and friend. He says, among other things, that "Addison Alexander entered the College of New Jersey during the time wlien I was there, about 1824 or '5. I occasionally met with him in the College, and remember his communicating to me a scheme which he proposed, of forming a debating society among the students. "Why he should propose this, when there were two well-established literary societies connected with the College, I do not remember, I attended a preliminary meeting, and I believe the scheme was carried into eifect, and tliat Addiscm was ihe secretary of the society and kept a record of tlie proceedings." All such clubs and meetings, Avhen Avell managed, gave him pleasure. He cared little for oral debate himself, but liked to listen and take notes. As a young man at least, he thirsted for this sort of social companionship, and his reputed mauvaise lionte did not embarrass him or others on the occa- sions of these literary hobnobbings. He was as free, gay, and chce ful as he was learned. Dr. John Maclean, so long the honoured president of tho college, and one of its instructors when Addison was the or- nament of the classes, writes that he has a distinct recollection * They are not, or at least arc not recognizable. ^T. IT.] G. W. BOLLING. 87 of him from his early childhoocl. " While 5-et a chilcl," as he remembers, he gave promise of becoming an eminently learned man. At school and college he was distinguished for his de- votion to study and his attainments in learning ; not that he was equally fond of all the different bi-anches to which his attention was directed by his several teachers, or that he was equally j^roficient in tLem. From the first he manifested a peculiar fondness for the study of languages, and an uncommon aptness in acquii'ing a thorough knowledge of them. He also devoted himself to the use of his pen, on a great variety of subjects, both mirthlul and serious ; and his style was as varied as the matters concerning which he wrote. The train- ing which he may be said to have given himself in these departments of learning, was adapted, in connection with his great intellectual vigour, to make him the eminent scholar and writer which he became. A gentleman of Petersburg, Va.,* has favoured me with the following valuable and interesting statements : "The Eev. Joseph Addison Alexander was a classmate of mine at Princeton for certainly two years, perhaps also one session of anotlier year; then lie was very young, not more than nineteen to twenty-one years old ; but even at that age, as when a man, he wr.s 'distinguished for dignity, circumspec'.ion, and sterling integrity — polite, but very bashful, social with familiar friends, but averse to mingling in soc'ety generally. In this disposition lie was peculiar." Mr. Alexander did not commonly visit the rooms of the students, but Mr. Boiling's was an exception. "He was a frequent visitor at my room, and would make liimself always agreeable and instructive, provided you let him alone and did not show liim attention by introducing him t > others, and avoided all formalities towards him. He graduated with distinguisiu'd honour. He was even at that early day a ripe scholar, and in after life in a most remarkable manner vex'ified the correctness of the impress he then gave of his great talents and scholarship. I often desired to hear him preach, but such gocd fortune was not allowed me, nor liad I, since we parted at the Commencement when ^ve graduated, the oppor- tunity to see and associate with one for whom I entertained such high regard as a friend and admiration as a great and good man. For the * G. W. BolUng, Esq. 88 VALEDICTORY. [iS2a want of associating with him in after years, I am only able to furnish you this meagre statement of his distinguished virtues. But meagre as it is, I regard it a privilege to have an opportunity to bear ray testi- mony to his worth." His last public appearance as a student was on Commence- ment day, 1826, when lie proceeded Bachelor of Arts, At that day the first honour was usually divided among several. Mr. Alexander shared it with the Hon. Peter McCall, who has lon^ been a distinguished lawyer of Philadelphia, and the Hon. William B. Napton, the late Chief-Justice of Missouri. The valedictory was then given to the best speaker taking the first honour, but in this case the faculty found themselves un- able to decide between Alexander and McCall, and it had to he determined by lot. Mr. McCall pronounced the Latin salutatory, Mr. Napton the English ; the valedictory oration falling to the lot of Mr. Alexander. His subject, in this his last college eftbrt, was, " The Pains and Pleasures of a College Life." The oration was finished in style, and the addresses to the trustees, the president, the faculty, and his classmates were touching and impressive. Many distinguished men attending the Commencement were greatly attracted by this performance, and the late Hon. Richard Stockton (who was one of the trustees) at the close predicted with emphasis the future eminence of the youthful graduate, and not content with this, stepped out and congratu- lated his father Dr. Alexander on the stage. A near relative of the young man who received such marks of consideration, remembers being put up on the seat at church, when but a little child, to get a sight of him when he was speaking ; but thinks this must have been his Junior speech, as the impres- sion remains strong on the mind of my informant that it was at night. Mr. Alexander took his diploma at Princeton on the last Wednesday of September, 182G ; which would put him in his eighteenth year. His seventeenth birthday occurred in April, when he was a Senior looking forward to graduation the ensu- Mr.n.-i CLERK OF COMMON COUNCIL. 89 ing autumn. It would be pleasant to know precisely what were his feelings in that prospect, but this is more than can be determined. It is enough to say that they seem to have bee'n comfortable and buoyant, though as yet he had no set- tled plans for life. One of his brothers who had been graduated two years before, then a student of law, was at this time the clerk of the borough of Princeton. In the month of October, 1826, being the month succeeding Commencement, that brother left for Virginia, and the Common Council of the borough appointed the renowned young scholar in his place. This position he held for some time, and dischai'ged its duties, so far as I am awai-e, to the satisfaction of the body appointing him. About the same time, also, his eldest brother* removed permanently to Virginia, to take charge of the village church at Charlotte Court House, of which he became the first settled pastor. The father of the young pastor just re- ferred to, had preached to another generation at the same spot many years before, and the memory of Drs. Archibald and James Alexander is still as ointment poured forth over that whole region. The following lively epistle to his brother James will be found to be copious, playful, aifectionate, and learned, and to mirror the writer's habits of life at this time. It is chiefly in- teresting, however, as being the first of his letters that is now extant. It implies a certain degree of knowledge of Latin, Greek, Italian, Arabic, and Persian, but might not indicate that the writer was a prodigy. The queer names of his fowls arose from his strange way of determining upon them. He would open a book at ran- dom, and the first word that struck his eye was to be the nomen, and the first on the next opening of the book, the cognomen. * A full account of these matters will be found in the Memoir of Dr. A Alexander, and in the Forty- Years' Familiar Letters. 90 FIRST LETTER. [182(1 Peincetojt, Ne-w Jersey, U. S. of F. Am., } Friday, 21st of April, 1826. f CHAEISSIME VOADELI, I had intemled to indite you an epistle in classical and Ciceronian Latin, but the thought that you have probably dropt the acquaintance of Greek and Eomin sages, since your departure fiom tliis celebrated seat of the Muses, has induced mo to "etfere vernaculc " — as we u-ed to say in the garret when you were a schoolmaster. As letter-writing is a species of composition in which I have had little practice, I find it necessary in digesting my epistles to adopt the same rule;5 by wliich I am guided in writing an es^ay for the ears of our illustrious President, whose logical ex:ictness of thought and nicety of expression rend.^r it wessy in stringing our^airZsto be very methodical. I shall therefore con-ider my subject under three heads, 1. the news; 2. replies to your inquiries; 3. original messages and remarks, which I am directed to communicate l)y my constituents (for in writing this letter, I stand in a federal capacity, being the represent::tive of the household). First, then, the news, — which is very scanty — nor should you lament this if you are endued with reasDn, for "/SouXets-, ftTTf ^lot, Trfpuav, Trvv6avea6ai \ey(Tia ti Kaivov,"" it c mnot be supposed that any man who has taken the oaths of allegiance in Henrico County, Virginia, and received the power of marrying and giving in marriage through- out the Old Dominion, can care for intelligence from the Jerseys. Be that as it may, I shall proceed to communicate the facts with which I have been supplied. Imprimis— we are all well (you know with what limitations to understand this statement). Item, Mr. "Woodhull is not very well, but on the contrary, is very ill, and it is expected that he will "go into a consumption." Item, Dr. Miller has been confined to his bed for some time. Item, a Cherokee Indian, by the name of Chew, was buried here today — the obsequies being conducted by Dr. A. Item, Grjcn was here last night and went oif at five o'clock th's morn- ing. Item, Mrs. Field has bought Mr. Baird's house and will enter it next Si)ring. Item, Dr. Carnahan is going to Washington. Item, Mr. Patton is going to deliver expository lectures on the "'KTrra eTi erj.Sds " of iEschylus. Item,- Mr. David Ming?, of emancipating celebrity, has pitched his tent among us, and intends to pursue his studies under the care of Luther Ilalsey, Jr. Item, Hatching Harpoon has hatched six chickens— to wit— Ruby Cobweb, Jidm Peaseblossorn, Cheerfulness Plenty, Egg Sacrifice, Corpulent Ostrich, and Grapevine Moth. Two of these are dead, the rest are in very good health. The Chicken College is in a flourishing condition. Pompey Jack has re- ^T. IT.] LETTERS RECEIVED. 9^1 signed t!ie presidency, and is engaged in writing a work with tlie fol- lowing title— " I-tnriii d^l coUegio dei Pullastri, nella Universita di Gratrocane pollastr'anitra, del amio 1820, al anno presente. Per Pom- peio Giacco, Dottore di Penue e di mustacchi e ultimo Pres'dente del coUegio."* Item, Capt. Tlensliaw is appointed Conimaader of the Navy Yard in Philadelphia, vice Biddle. 11. In your letter by J. F. Caruthers, ynu earnestly desire to be in- formed what letters have been received from you — I therefore subjoin as perfect a list as I could obtain : No. 1. To Mrs. Janetta Alexander, d;ited Baltimore, Nov. .3, 1825. 2. " Miss Ann II. Waddell, " Petersburg, Dec. 18, " 3. " Mrs. Janetta Alexander, " Petersburg, Jan. 5, 1826. 4. " do. do. do. " do. Jan. 26, " R. " Mr. Joseph A. Alexander, " do. Feb. 1-3, " 6. " Kev. Dr. A. Alexander, " do. March 3, " 7. " Miss Ann H. Waddell, " Richmond, March 8, " 8. " Mrs. Janetta Alexander, " Petersburg, March 16, " 9. " Rev. Dr. A. Alexander, " Richmond, April 1, Add to these a letter to Wm. from Washington — another by Mr. Nisbet, a third by Jno. F. Caruthers, and a fourth received to-day, and I believe you have the whole of your epistles before you. I can hardly imagine your motive for requesting sucli information as this. III. Mrs. Alexander aslis you whether the accounts of Virginia, once given you by herself and Miss W., appear to you now as the off- spring of wild enthusiasm. (Then follows a line in Arabic character.) Salamu alaikum min ali wa ahli. i. e., You arc saluted by kith and kin. Scriito per il tuo fratello, J. Addison Alexandeb. Daring the summer of 1826 Addison, it seems, took a trip to the sea-shore at Long Branch, and had his first view of the * " History of the Chicken College, in the Cat-Dog-Chicken-Duck Univer- sity, in the year 1820, the present year. By Pompey Jack, Professor of Feathers and Whiskers, and late President of the College." 92 VISITS LONG BRANCH. [1S26 ocean. Dr. Archibald Alexander drove the Jersey wagon in which Avere Mrs. Campbell, Mrs. Alexander, Addison, Mr. (now Doctor) Alfred Leyburn of Lexington, and perhaps Miss Ann Eliza Caruthers (afterwards Mrs. Leyburn), and Mr. Charles Campbell of Petersburg, and one or two others. The last named is the raconteur. " My niother and myself once accompanied Dr. Alexander with Lis wife and daughter and some of liis sons, including Addison, to Long Branch, the watering-place on the Jersey coast. Dr. Alfred Leyburn was also in company and I believe Ann Eliza Caruthers, -uhom he afterwards married. The greater part of these rode in a Jersey wagon. Dr. Alexander driving. Addison sat in the seat before my mother. For some time he was engaged in writing, and at length his mother in- quired of him what he was writing, when he handed her the manu- script, which she read aloud. It proved to he a report of what each one had said during the ride. His mother once remarked to mine, that she never had seen Addison angry and that she had one day asked him how he managed to keep his temper so quiet? lie replied, that he should have gotten angry just like others, but that ho had never met with any provocation which he thought it worth his while to get angry about. This is something Hke the reply of the Earl of Peter- borough, who, when asked how it was that, in all the dangers of a re- cent campaign, ho had never exhibited any fear, answered, 'I should have been as much frightened as any body, but I never saw any good reason to apprehend danger.' Addison's sedate face denoted the equa- nimity for which he was distinguished. To borrow an expression, he moved about ' with all the concentrated energy of a young monk.' " My brother Alexander, who is younger than myself, was some years after I left Princeton with my mother at Dr. Alexander's. Ad- dison wrote his biography for him in some little volumes the pages of which were about the size of those of a thumb-bible. One of Dr. 's sons, it appeared, had poked a stick through the fence and hurt Aleck in the eye. The first chapter of the biography dilated upon ' the operation performed on his eye.' These little volumes were pre- served for many years but are now lost." That ride may not have made any great impression on a mind that was perhaps meditating on the college honours or the fragrance of roses sung by Haliz and Sadi ; but the sight ^T. 17.] LETTER OP MRS. GRAHAM. 93 of the sea as it rolls in upon the crushed sands, and elevated green fields and bare levels, of the Jersey coast was one of the things that, as Keats says, are a joy forever, and was on this occasion a memorable joy to him. If he did not himself write the powerful description of the mighty element which soon after appeared in the columns of the Patriot while he was its editor, he undoubtedly inserted it with approbation of its sentiments and with the warmest recollections of the great original. A letter from his father to Mrs. Graham gives a picture in masterly outlines of the young graduate and valedictorian, and touches upon his rare attainments in general literature, his reception of the President's medal for best composition, his promise as an eloquent speaker, his taste for law and politics, his regularity and quietness of deportment, his reserve, and his blameless manners. "Addison has just passed through his final examination in college. He stands at the very head of his class in scholarship. Two others however were put with him in tlie first honour, as it is called, one of whom is fully equal to him in the studies of the college, hut in general knowledge is a child to him. For without any partiality to him he-« cause he is my son (to which I believe I am very little prone) he is very far superior to any one of his age I ever saw iu literary attain- ments. The Senior class, to which he belongs, were called upon a few days ago to decide by ballot to whom the President's premium should be given for excehing in composition, and Addison obtained the first place by a large majority. His ability to speak in public is also un- commonly good ; and he has been appointed to deliver the valedictory on the day of Commencement. But to what use he will apply his learning and eloquence I know not. Probably he will be a lawyer and politician. His views and feelings on the subject of rehgion are known only to himself. He is so reserved that nobody attempts to draw him out ; but his whole deportment is as correct as it easily could be, No- body ever expects to see anything in him but regularity and equa- nimity." The expectation as regards his following the profession of the law ^vas not fulfilled ; but we shall soon hear bim crying 94 MR. MoCALL. [1826. out to God for mercy through Christ Jesus, and in thanks for tlie infinite favours ah-eady bestowed on him. It is by no means unlikely that his thoughts were often turned to this great subject at this grave juncture in Lis life. It is a little remarkable that so many distinguished men who were his classmates still survive, and these still retain a pleasing and vivid memory of their college Iriend and rival. I shall now present the reminiscences of Mr. McCall of Phila- delphia (who drew lots with him for the valedictory), which cannot fail to be read with gratification. Mr. McCall writes : " Addison Alexander was rather reserved and retiring in Lis dispo- sition, and residing at home, he did not mingle with the students as much as he otLerwise would h:ive done. It was only towards the c'o>e of our college career that I saw Liin quite fiequently, and Lad iLe pleasure of a somewhat intimate fellowsiiip witL Lim. I was then struck witL the vein of r'.cL humour and pleasantry tLat played under his quiet exterior. " His Lrilliant talents and fine attainments were appreciated by all of us. He was witLout doubt the first scholar in the class. Nap'on c ime nearest to Lim, but I tiiink Alexander, take Lim all in all, had tLe pre- -eminence. An excellent mathematician, a first-rats lingui.-t, an accom- plished writer — Le faibd in nothing and was tiie object of general admi- raton. " I !i;id the unm rited Lonour of drawing lots with him for tlie Vale- dictory and the Lntin Salutatory. He dre.v tLe former, and I well re- member tliat lii-; perl'onnance wasdistingnislied for ite excellence. "I Lave iilways feltpr. u i of being Lis classmate, ai;d a'.thougL T saw him very rar.-ly af.er leaving collegf^, I never ceased to entertain for him an admiration which increa-ed year by year with Lis expanding fame. " TLe traits of Lis character and tLe leading incidents in Lis career, alas ! too sLort, well deserve to be preserved in a biograpLlcal memoir. I am deligLted to learn tLat you Lave undertaken it, and I only regret that I am not ahle to furnisli you any material wortLy of being intro- duced into your work." I have it on the best authority that Mr. McCall was him- self in the judgment of the faculty second in point of colle- iEx. IT.] HIS SCHOLARSHIP. " 95 giate attainment to no one in the class, and his subsequent eniinence, and the nature of his daily occupations, render his testimony as to his classmate's character, and scholarship, and genius, not a whit less important than that even of Judge Napton. The modesty of Mr. McCall would throw a cloud over the fact that in the college studies he was himself con- sidered, by the faculty at least, and without hesitation the equal of Mr. Alexander. CHAPTER III. It was while in college that he seems to have formed the habit of keeping a commonplace-hook, and employed for this purpose a huge folio volume of stiii paper bound in heavy, rough leather of the colour of gingerbread. This volume I have carefully inspected. It was afterwards used by one of his brotliers as a scrap-book, and much that the original owner wrote in it is thus blotted out. What remains consists of catalogues of the various classes and honour-men for a number of successive years, fragments of speeches, curious autographs, snatches of poetry, and bursts of ineffable nonsense. Several of his brothers wrote in it at a later date, and one day in 1830 as he sat in the window his brother James inscribed in it some very pretty original verses. Among all the treasures of this old register none are more valuable than the first draught of Addison's now lamous valedictory, and another very remarkable effusion of his entitled the Peruvians. This piece is one of the most florid and rhythmical of all his pro- ductions. The tune of the sentences is peculiar — something like that of Ossian. It is nothing but a fragment, or rather a succession of fragments, some of which are broken off in the middle of a sentence. It is highly and richly imaginative, and some few of its descriptions are very chaste, reminding one of those of Prescott. The whole is exceedingly impas- sioned, and admirably suited to the purposes of college decla- mation. I am informed on the best authority that the finished oration was actually pronounced by one of his comrades, on the college stage. The piece originated in this way. His brother William one day brought him a poem on " the Incas,'' which he seemed to admire and made the basis of a speech he had been asked to write for one of his distressed mates.* * The admiration Dr. Addison Alexander had for the poet Cowper was coa- Btantly showing itself, and in ways that would little be suspected. The allusion ^T. IT.] DECLINES THE TUTORSHIP. 97 In September, 1826, Mr. Alexander, as we have just seen, was graduated at Princeton, with the valedictory honours of his class, having divided the spolia opima of scholarshiiD at the rather early age of seventeen. About the same time in the following year, viz., on the 27th of September, 1827, he was appointed a tutor in the Col- lege of New Jersey, but declined ; probably because he was al- ready making great strides in his Oriental studies, and wanted ample time for still greater. He was also enjoying the luxury of vast but discursive reading. Certain it is, that the interval between his graduation and his acceptance of the post of teacher in Mr. Patton's Seminary, in 1829, was spent in almost incredible linguistical toils, and especially in prosecuting his early researches in the Asiatic languages. He was also begin- ning to pay more attention than formerly to the languages of the West. He joyously seized this opportunity of comparative leisure, to perfect his knowledge of those tongues with which he was already acquainted, and to extend his inquiries along every shining radius of the great circle which embraced so in his Isaiah to Cowper's free paraphrase of the 137th Psalm, ("By the rivers of Babylon there we sat down"), and to his application of some of its noblest imagery to the case of the Incas, is evidently to the superb passage in ''Charity:" " Oh could their ancient Incas rise again, now would they take up Israel's taunting strain ? Art thou too fallen, Iberia ? Do we see The robber and the murderer weak as we \ ■ Thou that hast wasted earth, and dared despise Alike the wrath and mercy of the skies, Thy pomp is in the grave, thy glory laid Low in the pits thine avarice has made. We come with joy from our eternal rest, To sec the oppressor in his turn oppressed. Art thou the god, the thunder of whose hand Rolled over all our desolated land, Shook principalities and kingdoms down, And made the nations tremble at his frown ! The sword shall light upon thy boasted powers. And waste them, as thy sword has wasted otirs. 'Tis thus Omnipotence his law fulfils. And Vengeance executes what Justice wills." Grigff ^ Elliot, Philadelphia, 1841, p. £5. 98 CHARLES CAMPBELL. [1827. many subjects with regard to which, at present, he had but Blight information, or none at all. A gentleman of Virginia writes that he had often heard the praises of Addison Alexander sounded by a very lovely young female relative of his, who had "left no common picture " in the mind of her listener " of a young prodigy of intellect and scholarship." This gentleman, on going to Princeton as a student of the college, found that the picture of Mr. Alexander's fair kinswoman was not overdrawn. He says, " I was very naturally led to visit at his father's ; and, besides the pleasant, gentle welcome which Dr. Archibald Alexander always gave one coming from his native place, I always felt when I saw that bright, genial, sincere-looking face of Mrs. Alexander, on which the roses of youth had not yet entirely faded, and heard her talk in her kind, earnest manner, that I was in some measure back again in Virginia. But Addison was very much of a recluse, and I was pressed with college studies, and I did not make up much acquaintance with him during that period ; though my appointment along with him on a very important special committee, which, for some time, had frequent sessions, brought me at that time into a good deal of intercourse with him. One thing, how- ever, impressed me then, as I believe it has universally im- pressed people in regard to him, I mean the unpretending simplicity of his character. Nobody could have seen in him the exhibition of any consciousness of Ids extraordinary superi- ority, and so it was always in ray observation of him." This must have been either during or just after Mr. Alex- ander's own connexion with the college as a student. I think it not unlikely it was in 1827 or '28, when he was a resident- o-raduate in the town and before he became connected wnth Ml'. Patton and Edgehill. There are but few incidents relating to this transition- period between his life as a college student and his life as an usher or schoolmaster. "Some years after graduating," writes Mr. Campbell, " I happened to pass a week or two at the Rev. Dr. Archibald Alexander's, in Princeton. I observed that ^T.18.] TESTIMONY OF PROFESSOR HART. 99 Aclclisoii did not eat with the family, but after them and by himself He glided into the dining-room with noiseless adroit- ness, his singularity in this particular being apparently ac- quiesced in by the family without comment. The presence of visitors or company in the house, as a general rule, he appeared to ignore." This he attributed to an extreme constitutional diffidence and reserve. " In general he was, at this time, remarkably tacitura, without being at all morose. He was ' swift to hear and slow to speak.' Yet no one took more pleasure in conversation tlian he, only he confined it to a very few." During this sojourn of Mr, Campbell's at Dr. Alex- ander's house, he occupied the same room Avith Addison, and the two sometimes lay awake talking till a late hour. "His pent-up thoughts, wht'ii they found vent, flowed in a strong current. In the upstairs room, Avhere we slept, he had his manuscripts arranged on the floor around the room, along the washboard, where he could readily lay his hand on any one that he wanted. He was at this time writing for a paper published in Princeton. I remember reading a humorous account of Commencement-day, at Princeton, in which Addi- son, who spoke to so few persons, seemed to know not only what the country people, who were present on that occasion, talked about, but also how they talked." * It is with lively pleasure that I now have recourse to the memory and kindness of Professor John S. Hart, LL. D. of Trenton, formerly of the Edgehill school. " From the year 1826 down to the date of Addison's death," writes Dr. Hart, " no student I suppose ever came to Princeton, without hav- ing his imagination excited by stories bordering upon the mar- vellous, in regard to the prodigious learning and the mental endowments of the studious recluse who was seldom seen, but who was known to dwell somewhere in the neighbom-hood of the Theological Seminary." He well remembers "the impres- sion this intellectual giant made upon my own youthful imag- ination. The traditions of the town in regard to him, and * This is an exact description of the letters of Job Raw, in the Patriot, 100 PHILOLOGICAL SOCIETY. [1827. the occasional glimpses I had of him, gave mo my first idea of genius, in the highest meaning of the word, and in my m- tercoursc with him in later years, which at times was entirely free and familiar, that first impression was only confirmed and deepened. No man that I have ever met filled so entirely my conception of mental greatness of the very highest order." The first actual evidence of Addison's abilities that came under Professor Hart's notice was in the formation of the Phi- lological* Society in the college, in the year 1828, Professor Patt'on, who then occupied the chair of ancient languages m the college, and who was a great enthusiast in his department, it seems^endeavoured to infuse some of his own enthusiasm into the young men under his instruction. " For this purpose he called Addison to his special assistance, and with the coop- eration of the other members of the faculty and of the stu- dents, the Philological Society was formerl, and Professor Pat- ton generously placed upon its shelves for the free use of the memlDers the entire contents of his private library, which was particularly rich in rare and costly works on philological sci- ence. One part of the plan was to have stated meetings, at which papei-s were to be read on various subjects." The first paper that was read, and the only one of which he had any distinct recollection, was by Addison. " From his reputed antecedents I expected to hear an essay, learned indeed and able, but dry and abstruse, on some nice point of philological inquiry. Instead of that, we were treated to a discourse on the duty of studying our own English classics, dwelling with particular emphasis, I recollect, upon the noble diction and the gorgeous imagery of Edmund Burke ; and, as I listened to the rtch racy English of his own glowing periods, and no- ticed the peculiar Addisonian grace and elegance which marked the youthful composition, it seemed as if it must have been not accidental, but by some mysterious prescience, that he had been named Joseph Addison." He remembers at all events. * This is Professor Hart's name for it. If there were not two societies of lilcc name, this was called the Philologian. ^T.18.] LOVE FOR ENGLISPI CliASSICS. 101 that it Avas a common remark among the students, after hear- ing that essay, that Addison Alexander was well named. ♦"Such was the efiect produced on my mind by the youthful performance. I dare say there are scores of others still living who would testify to the same effect having been produced on them." This love of the best English classics for their own sake, and not at all because other people admired them, was always a marked trait in Mr. Alexander's intellectual character. Johnson, Swift, Steele, and Addison were in his youthful fancy almost worthy to be rivals of Sir William Jones him- self in the estimation of scholars and men of taste. What struck him in Johnson was not idiomatic elegance, as in the charming essayist and critic of the Spectator, but Herculean sense, knowledge, and energy, and musical cadence. Burke, and the whole school of fresh original writers who overlapped or succeeded the age of Sir Joshua Reynolds and Garrick, filled him afterwards with a sense of new and increasing enjoyment, as well as that Cicero of the English pulpit, the incomparable Robert Hall. As to Burke, he was in his esteem more than a second Johnson, with a magnificence of his own, and without Johnson's faults. It was just like the writer of the essay here noticed to defeat the expectations of those who looked for an abstruse philological disquisition from the young linguist. He rejoiced at every chance of thus baffling curiosity. It cannot now be known when Addison first became a con- tributor to the public press, but probably when he was at school with Mr. Baird. We know that he used to print news- papers with a pen at that time. A paper was published in Princeton called the New Jersey Patriot. In less than three months after leaving college, at the age of seventeen, he con^ tributed to that paper an article of two columns and a half on Persian poetry, which attracted attention, and was especially commended to the notice of the public in an editorial article of the paper in which it appeared. He wrote during the en- suing winter some caustic political squibs over the signature 102 THE PATRIOT. n827. of " The Jesuit," in reference to the election of a TJnitecl States Senator for New Jersey, Avhich had just taken place and caused great excitement in the state. In the following smniuer the Patriot ceased to be a politi- cal paper, was enlarged and placed by its proprietor under the editorial charge of Mr. Alexander and one of his brothers. This position afforded full scope for his prolific pen. In addi- tion to editorial matter and current news, he almost covered the broad sheet with essays, poems, tales, and communications, to which various signatures were attached. It was at this time and at this early age that some of the articles at a later day published in the Philadelphia Monthly Magazine appeared, such as " The Fall of Ispahan," "Greece in 1827," and " The Tears of Esau." He wrote for this paper a tale called " The Quaker Settlement," of which I can dis- cover no vestige. He wrote also a tale called " The Jewess of Damascus." The Patriot soon ceased for want of patronage.* About this time a literary weekly paper known as the Souvenir had a short existence in Philadelphia. The editor offered prizes for the best Essay, Poem, Tale, and Biography. Addison went in for all of them, and on the sealed envelope identifying the author, placed the name of " Horace Seaford, care of J. A. A.," &c. The pviblisher not finding it convenient to pay the prizes offered, announced that he would give a cer- tain number of copies of his paper to the successful writer ; and on the opening of the seals, Addison was inundated with * Durint^ the days that the Patriot was at the height of its circulation, a pro- tracted controversy, occupying column upon column, in weekly instalments, was carried on in successive numbers of that journal, on the vexed subject of Dancing. The contending writers were a leading clergyman and a distinguished layman" After the matter had gone to great lengths, and the readers of the paper were becoming excessively weary of the conflict and of tlie topic that had provoked it, Addison, who was then one of the editors of tlie Patriot, brought the matter to a sudden close with the characteristic remark in large typo, that " he presumed the spirit of St. Vitus himself must be satisfied by this time with what had been said on both sides of the question." ^T,18.] PERSIAN POETS. 103 copies of the paper addressed to "Horace Seaford, care of J. A. A." ■ I am so fortunate as to be able to give some extracts from tbe article on "The Persian Poets." It is signed " Ali." It Trill be remembered that it was written by a youth of little more than seventeen, and who was generally supposed to know nothino- of oriental literature at first hand. How erroneous this conception Avas, we have already had occasion to remark. After touching upon the wide difierence in nature and de- gree between the influences that tend to promote works of science, and the circumstances which foster works of imagina- tion and taste, he affirms that no country has abounded in the latter more remarkably than Persia. She has not indeed, he admits, afibrded to her sons those artificial aids which consti- tute the apparatus of the western scholar, but on the other hand, he urges, she has richly furnished them with all that tends to develope the latent elements of poetic talent, and raise them to maturity. " It has been justly observed," he continues, "that the Age of Poetry lies midway between bar- barism and complete refinement. It is neither to freedom from all mental discipline and application, nor to the immen- sity of public libraries, or to the ease and excellence of jDublic instruction, that the poet owes his inspiration. It is neither among the restraints of elegant society, nor the wild excesses of savage life, that the muses work their wonders. It is rather among scenes where the revolting harshness of unsubdued ferocity has been removed, but the gloss of excessive refine- ment has not yet neutralized the energies of genius — where nature herself wears a poetic garb, and the manners of men are modelled after her. There the spirit of poetry is not a shy and haughty power, inhabiting the retirements of the learned, and looking on the multitude only to despise them, but a gentler influence, which though it bends in the exercise of its power to the lowest intellects, gives the'tn elevation, while it loses none itself; like the Peris of Persian romance, which leed on the flowers and perfumes of earth, though they dwell in the regions of the air." 104 ORIENTAL SCENES. [1828, How fai* this description may he applied to Persia, he pro- poses to determine by an unerring test as he thinks, in litera- ture as in morals, by the degree of privilege and ojoportunity enjoyed. This he does by considering the advantages which she has afforded to her poets. After speaking of the fertility of fancy to which must be ascribed the hyperbolic tendency so visible in the style and conceiDtions of their authors, he pi-oceeds to restrict his review to their exclusive advantages, which have aided the natural powers of the poet ; and these he proposes to consider without regard to intellectual endow- ments. In the midst of the discussion of this jDoint there occurs the following passage : "The genius of the Persian was never compelled to struggle witli disadvantages of geographical position — to borrow Lis ideas of verdure upon earth and cloudless serenity in the skies, from the writings of an- other age and nation — to outrage the sensibilities of liis auditors or readers by sioging the praises of perpetual spring amidst the horrors of Arctic winter, by planting roses beneath the avalanche, and rearing bowers on the shores of a frozen sea. His eyes were opened on scenes where the loftiest flights of bis imagination were matched by the glo- ries of tlic world around him— where his boldest pictures of the majesty of nature were but copies of the mountains which he climbed in infancy, and his most luxuriant descriptions of fairy scenery were drawn from the realities of his native valleys. "In perfect accordance with the face of nature were the manners of the people. In the character and customs of most ^Mohammedan na- tions, but especially the Persians, there ever has been and still may be observed that rich peculiarity so exclusively appropriated by the people of the East, as to have acquired almost universally the name of Oriental. It is the same poetic cast of manners portrayed in the sacred scrip- tures, that picturesque simplicity of language, that figurative express- iveness of action, which is so interesting to every cultivated mind from the power of association ; whether it occur in the record of eternal truth or in the trivial page of Asiatic fiction. The very dress, food, and colloquial phrases of the East are objects of lively interest, from their poetic character and their correspondence with the pictures in that book, whose sacred precepts and sublime descriptions fell so early and 80 often on the unconscious ear of infancy that we cannot trace ^T.18.] PERSIAN LEGENDS. 105 theii- introduction to tlie mind, but retain them like the sliadowy imaa;6 of a halt-forgotten dream. It is tliis early familiarity with the Bible, that causes the imagination (though schooled and chastened by the nicest art and subjected to the control of the soundest understanding) to yield without resistunce to the spell thrown over it by the witchery of oriental romance. "We may cling to the familiar state of things around us, or shrink from the thought of transition to another. But while we retain our early impressions of camels, caravans, and deserts — of dwelling in tents, and sleeping on housetops, we must feel that these are the modes of life most congenial to the poet, and the scenes most susceptible of poetic delineation." It was in such a situation, he goes on to say, that the Per- sian poet undertook the task of perpetuating the history of his native land by the power of immortal verse ; and there could not be a subject more fitted, as he conceives, for the wildest flights of the most exuberant fancy. " The historical legends of ancient Ii-an, which survived the Arab conquest and are still fondly cherished by the modern inhabitants, are full of appropriate themes for the loftiest eflTorts of the muse. Songs of chivalry and love, which are often thought peculiar to the European bard, have ever been favourites with the populace of Persia; and no troubadour or minstrel of the west ever tuned his harp for the recital of exploits more wild and daring than those of Firdusi's hei'oes." Nor are their characters, in his opinion, entirely void of that species of refinement which Avas the glory of the Eurojiean knight in the golden age of chivalry, and which so strongly distinguished him from the rude and bloody warriors of other lands and eras. " So much nearer indeed," he protests, " does the modei'n knight approach to tlie ancient heroes of the East than to the huge but childish characters in Homer, that we can scarcely help concluding, that between the former there exists a natural aflinity, wbjle the latter are of a different race." The attachment of the Per sians to the memory of those primeval warriors he thinks h strongly evinced by the tenacity with which they have pre- served the fragments of their early history. " Though the triimiphant Khalif, Avith his Arab troops had introduced the 5* 106 PERSIAN MIND. [1827. Koran, Jind converted every fire-temple to a mosque— tlioncfb tlae religion nnd the laws of Moliammed were universally dif- fused, the vanquished, Avhile they adopted both, retained their national afTectioas, While they heard with indiftcrence the tri- umph of Omar and Othm an over Greece, Syria, and Egypt, they cherished the recollection of their native conquerors; and while the Arab bard found little in the character or actions of the prophet and his successors to be the subject of poetical embellishment, the exploits of Zccb and Eiistam fur- nished an exhaustless theme to the minstrelsy of Persia." But the most remarkable advantage enjoyed by the bards of Persia, he believes, is unquestionably to be found in the rich and romantic mythology peculiar to that land of poets. "It may be regarded as a singular phenomenon, that the inflexible spirit and uncompromising bigotry of Islam should have allowed itself to be entwined v/ith so wild a relic of ancient Paganism. Though the sacred cross was trodden, with the crown of Constantine, beneath the foot of the Moslem —though every remnant of Arab idolatry was exterminated by the unsparing zeal of the prophet and his Khalifs— though the sacred fire was extinguished upon every altar, from" the Caspian to the Persian Gulf; the mythology of Iran was too elastic to be trodden down, too ethereal for an- nihilation. The mind of the Persian seems constructed for the reception of poetic images and the enjoyment of romantic fiction ; so that although, when the alternative of ' Death, Tribute, or the Koran' was presented to the vanquished, with Avonted flexibility they preferred the latter, yet the fanciful dreams of the Gebr poets and the beautiful supersti- tions of the Gebr populace were not forgotten — they were blended with their imaginative eff'orts. They were strangely intermixed with their devotions ; a paradoxical alliance was formed between these dreams of fairy-land and the dogmas of the Koran. The holiest saint could subscribe to both, and the devoutest Shiah, who five times a day repeated the solemn profession, 'There is no God but God, and Mohammed is his I'rophet,' in the midst of his genuflexions could tremble at ^T. 18.] PERSIAN MYTHOLOGY. 107 the po^^er of malignant genii and listen for the waving of the Peri's pinion in the breeze. Nor is the Persian's preference of his own mythology surprising or absurd. Apart from national and habitual feeling, it possesses a charm peculiar and delightful. The imagination of the Arab is teeming and almost uncontrollable. But its only flashes are flashes of lightning, and its flights are the flights of an eagle among storms and tempests. The fancy of the Persian is more delicately formed. Its creations are less bold and vigorous, but far more airy and enchanting ; and we can scarcely won- der that the gross delights of the Prophet's Paradise should have been despised for the charms of Gebr's Elysium." What follows will shock some readers. His fancy had been per- •haps too much wrought upon when a child by the stories of the Arabs, and more recently by the fervid descriptions of the Koran. There are some, however who may agree with the bold young critic. " But this is not all. The most fastidious taste, on a fair comparison of this mythology with the orations of classic genius or Grecian superstition, cannot hesitate in a preference of the former. There is, in the fantastic theologj'- of the Greeks and Romans, a coldness and a coarseness, which even the fire of Homer could scarce animate, and the delicacy of Virgil could not v>'holly refine. The incongruous mixture of human and superhuman attributes, and the inconceivable vicissitudes in the fortunes of their immortals, united with the disgusting excesses of human vice, and the ridiculous extremes of human folly, by v/hich they are so often distinguished, render the Olympus or the Pantheon a poor field for the wanderings of genius — hoAV poor in comparison with the Jlnnistan of Persia ! with the shadowy possessors of that imaginary region, the Peris and the Dives, those good and evil beings Avho fill the intermediate space in the scale of animated nature between the inhabitants of earth and the inhabitants of heaven ! These beings which may be regard- ed as the originals of the /a^Vyand giant of European taste — ■ possessed of bodies, but bodies formed of the element of fire, powerful but not almighty, intelligent but not omniscient ; 108 POET'S PARADISE. [1827, the Peris, pure but not impeccable ; the Dives, sinful but not Avitliout hope, engaged in mutual wai", but not upon earth, neither dwelling among men, nor entirely reraovt^d from par- ticipating in his fortunes ; sometimes courting his assistance, and often guiding his steps and directing his destiny ; beings like these may well be made the subject of poetical romance. They are jorecisely the species of interijiediate intelligences, which might be made the machinery of an epic poem, and possess this twofold advantage over the creations of classic mythology, that while they are far more pure, ethereal, and poetical, more like the phantasms of a "poet's phrensv," they are still subjected to a paramount authority, and not like the gods of Homer, clothed in the vileness of mortality, and then disgraced by the sceptre of the universe. Their existence and character were wholly poetical. They were unconnected with religious faith, so that the wildest fictions respecting them de- tracted nothing from the Gebr's reverence to the Deity. " Surrounded, then, by the most impressive and enchanting scenes of nature ; by boundless deserts and cultivated plains ; by frowning cliffs and verdant valleys ; beneath a sky which was never clouded, and among a people who ' lisped in num- bers,' the Persian poet sang of the most chivalrous exploits of ancient heroism, the most romantic fictions of a beautiful mythology. In such a situation what might we not expect ? If anything more can be conceived, as requisite to complete the picture of the Poets' Paradise, it is that which we have already seen abundantly supplied in the munificent patronage of the great and the enthusiastic admiration of the populace. The inferior bards of other lands may plead with justice the insalubrity of climate, the ruggedness of natui'e's works around them, the rudeness of their countrymen, the want of encour- agement, and the absence of applause ; but Avhen the clas- sics of the land of poets shall be subjected to the impartial scrutiny of Western taste, deficiency of genius alone can be the apology of those who may be said to Imve been born in the precincts of Parnassus, and to have drawn their first breath in an atmosphere of poetry." ^T. 18.] LITERARY CAPRICES. 109 It will probably be agreed that this was " a right master- ful " effort for a lad of not over the age at which many go to college. Indeed, it is by no means unlikely that this produc- tion, like many others of the same hand had been composed at an earlier period and laid aside for future use. But of this there is no certainty. We know, however, that the writer who here subscribes himself "Ali" was as cai-eless of the fate of such accidental effusions as the ostrich of her eggs which she deposits in the sands of the desert. It would be incorrect to suppose that Dr. Addison Alex- ander* in after life adhered in full to the opinions expressed in this remarkable juvenile critique, nor is it outside the limits of conjecture to surmise that the opinions are in some respects as imaginary as the signature. Wliile it is true that no man was more volatile than he in many of his personal tastes and preferences, being full of unaccountable caprices, it is also true that he loved to wear a literary mask, and to mystify his readers in every ingenious manner possible. It was also well known that he was fond of espousing sentiments which were at once novel and hard to defend. Thus his depreciation of the characters of Homer in comparison with those of Firdusi, and his sallies at the expense of the Olympian divini- ties as contrasted with the fabulous creations of the Jmnistan^ may or may not be genuine. He may have been carried along impetuously (as was his wont) by the heat of his youth- ful admiration (which was unquestionably intense) of the Persian poets, even to the disparagement of poets the most illustrious of other countries ; or, which is almost equally agreeable to what is known of his whimsical humours, he may have been merely actuated by a wish to puzzle the literati of Princeton, and to excite a hubbub among the cultivated readers of " The Patriot." There is good evidence in the piece itself that the writer sought for some purpose or other to conceal his hand. It is not written in his usual style ; at least not as a whole. There is in some of these balanced sen- tences an evident and exquisite imitation of the great literary dictator of the previous century. No one who is at all 110 IMITATION OF JOHNSON. [1827. familiar with Rasselas and the Rambler can hesitate to come to this conclusion. What could be more like the old " Bear" of Bolt Court and the Mitre Tavern than the following- " The incongruous mixture of human and superhuman attri- butes, and the inconceivable vicissitudes in the fortunes of their immortals, united with the disgusting excesses of human vice, and the ridiculous extremes of human folly ; " or this : " Surrounded, then, by the most majestic and enchanting scenes of nature ; by boundless deserts and cultivated plains ; by frowning cliffs and verdant valleys ; beneath a sky which was never clouded, and among a people who lisped in num- bers;" or this: "If any thing more can be conceived, as requisite to complete the picture of the Poets' Paradise, it is that which we have ali'cady seen abundantly supplied in the munificent patronage of the great, and the enthusiastic ad- miration of the populace." We can almost see before us the unconscious lexicographer as he rounded off this sentence tuiming his candle upside down at Mrs. Bos well's, and blowing with delight at the happy finish he had given this ponderous period. Mr. Alex- ander's intuitive taste prevented him, however, from pushing this imitation to the verge of caricature, and thus spoiling his essay. The consequence is that the style of the production taken as a whole, though resembling that of the early Ram- blers, is as vigorous and original as Johnson's own, and where his own native qualities break out, much superior to it on literary grounds. Whether this imitation of Johnson was wholly accidental, or not, is another question : but it will be remembered tliat Addison and Johnson were in every body's hands then, and one of his classmates tells us that the young collegian was much given to voluntary imitations of the most admired of the English classics. The young graduate's overweening partiality for Oriental studies and the masterpieces of Oriental genius, had, as we have seen, already begun to wane, and was destined to be almost entirely superseded, or at all events overborne, or held in abeyance, by his enthusiastic devotion to the languages and still more /Et. 18.] ARABIAN NIGHTS. HI to the literatures of ancient and modern Europe. The litera- ture of the Greeks, which is here spoken of with a dash of contempt, was afterwards and soon to become the theatre on which, after the sacred text of the Old and Xew Testaments, he employed his best powers through life. Yet he never ceased to go for an occasional solace and entertainment to the tales of the Arabs and the sweet numbers of Persia. One of my earliest recollections of him is that he taught me a Persian song (which I have not yet forgotten), and that he used to read me wonderful legends and fabulous and romantic stories from certain ancient rolls inscribed with characters Avhich I subsequently learned were Arabic. I also well remember reading for hours at a time in his study and under his approving eye (and that day after day till I finished the volumes), from the pages of the " Green Book," as we both loved to call it ; which was nothing less than Lane's larger edition of the Arabian Nights with English notes, with the golden shields and Moorish spears on the back, and the superb illustrations on the inside. The impression made upon my boyish imagination by the dark features and spread- ing wings of the Jinn drawn in the broad margin, will never be effaced. But when the ruddy scholar placed me in a corner of his cane settee, and regaled me with recitations, songs, tales, descriptions, and dialogues of his own, I recog- nized in him a being possessing powers not unlike those of "Sulliman the sou of Daoud," who could command the genii and the Afrik at pleasure ; for no captivation was ever more complete or genuine than that under which he held me when- ever he chose to do so, a willing prisoner. But the Patriot during the time he contributed for it, or rather, as I might almost say, wrote it, contained very dif- ferent material from that of which a specimen or sample has just been given. The number before me (vol. ii. No. 59) is dated September 29, 1827, and bears this title : " New-Jersey Patriot, Princeton. Printed and published by D. A. Borren- stein." Underneath this superscription is the motto, " The Safety of the People is the Supreme Law." It is a quarto 112 ARTICLES SIGNED TROCHILUS. [1827. sheet of moderate size, but well-shaped and closely printed. The first piece is a communication in verse signed " Roland," and is an address " to Music." This I suspect to be from the pen of the invisible editor, and is an obvious imitation of the style of poetry which was so much in vogue before Scott and Byron, and which continued a sickly existence even after the appearance of Wordsworth. This is just such poetry as Burke was not ashamed to indulge in before he became an orator and a statesman. * The next is some idle stanzas which surely must have sprung from a very different brain ! They are in a totally different measure, are to " The Morrow," and are signed Trochihis. They are puerile and worthless, and are the type of thousands like them. Yet when we read the fine prose satire which immediately follows, and find it too signed Trochilus, a piece marked by all the energy, vehemence, and wit of Swift, we are led almost insensibly to the conclusion that the lines to " The Morrow " are also from the editor, and are either intended as a burlesque upon the general mass of fugitive newspaper poetry of the day, or else merely to throw the reader off his guard ; and that the satirical effusion is per- haps a conscious and if so quite successful imitation of the Dean of St. Patrick's. This however is pure conjecture. It is possible some of these pieces are by other hands. Remark- able and innocent as this pi-oduction is, it is not exactly quota- ble. It contains among other laughable things some sly and characteristic hits at the mathematicians and natural philoso- phers. This was doubtless to teaze the curiosity of the Prince- ton professors. Then comes an exposure of a coloured charla- tan by the name of Rusworm, who had betrayed the confidence of the venerable Dr. Miller and others. Then we have a letter, " the original of which is in the possession of a gentleman of Princeton," from David Garrick, in relation to a tragedy by William Julius Mickle, the translator of the Lusiad.f It is * And specimens of which are given in liis biography by Pryor. f The real name of the translator of Camolus was simply AVilliain Mickle. Julius was an afterthought of his own. ^T.1S.1 COMMENCEMENT, 1827. 113 addressed to George Johnstone, Esq. — a friend and patron oi the poet, " The Exile of Scio," which follows, and purports to be from the "New Monthly Magazine," exhibits strong signs of the same authorship. My conviction is that Mr. Alexander had previously written it and contributed it to the Magazine, with which he was certainly in communication ; as another romantic and descriptive piece in this paper is undoubtedly by the editor. The letter of Sir Walter Raleigli which figures on the same page is believed to be genuine. Two jDieces, one on "Visita- tion of Schools," from " an American Journal," and one on Archimedes, fill up the side. The inside is taken up with Princeton matters and domestic news. In the middle of the page, liowever, are two editorials, one of which is in the usual serious style of Mr. Alexander, much affected in this instance, it must be confessed, by the Johnsonese swell. I give a part of it, as it aflbrds us a transient glimpse of the Princeton Com- mencement. There is a full account of the exercises, in an- other column of the same issue. The annual oration before the American "Whig and Cliosophic Societies in joint-meeting was delivered by the Hon. Theodore Frelinghuysen, Attorney General of the State of New Jersey, in the presence of an unu- sually large and respectable audience. The annual exhibition of imdergraduates took place on the evening of the 25th. This was exactly a year from the time of Mr. Alexander's own graduation, so that he was not yet ready to take the master's degree. The Alumni Association of Nassau Hall held its first annual meeting in the college chapel on the morning of Com- mencement. A letter was read from his Excellency James Madison, President of the Association, expressing his interest in the prosperity of the college, and the objects of the Asso- ciation. At this meeting it was resolved, that " it is expedient that a history of Nassau Hall be prepared for publication, and that the members of the association be requested to furnish during the ensuing year such biographical notices of the Alum- ni, as in their opinion will be useful to the college and inter- esting to the public." Also, "that all such biographical 114 ALUBINI ASSOCIATION. [132T, notices be forwarded to Mr. J. Addison Alexand.^r, of Princeton." This history, if ever entered upon hj the young student, was, it is believed, never carried out.* These pleasant assem- blages of the Alumni have been one of the most interesting- features of the Princeton Commencement ever since the meet- ing of which record is here made. The editorial article to Avhich )-efercnce has been made, begins thus : " We are gratified to state that the number of persons attracted to Princeton by the ceremonies of the annual Commencement, during the present week, was unusually large. * The following names comprised the olTicers of the association at the time referred to above : President. James Madison of Virginia. Vice-Presidents. Aaron Ogden of New Jersey, William Gaston of North Carolina, Richard Stockton " John Henry Ilobart of New York, Andrew Kirkpatrick " Henry W. Edwards of Connecticut. Ashbel Green " Treasurer. Samuel Bayard of New Jersey. Secretary. John Maclean of New Jersey. Committee of Arrangements. Professor Maclean, Samuel T. Bayard, Esq. and Mr. William C. Alexander. It may be interesting to some also to know that the members of the Execu- tive Committee of the New Jersey Bible Society at this time were : Dr. Archi- bald Alexander, Chief Justice Ewing, General Erelinghuysen, Dr. Miller, the Rev. George S. Woodhull, James S. Green, Esq. and Samuel Bayard, Esq. There is still another item which may have an interest for practical men. The delegates to the Convention for the promotion of Internal Improvements, assembled on the 25th inst. at the hour appointed, in the upper room of the Academy. The honourable Richard Stockton, of Somerset, was appointed Presi- dent, and the honourable William Coxe, of Burlington, Vice-President ; John M. Sberrerd, Esq. of Warren, Secretary, and Daniel C. Croxall, Esq. of Hunter- don, Assistant Secretary. Delegates were present from eight counties. The business discussed was of considerable importance, but we have no room for further allusion to it. ^T.18.] FOREIGN NEWS. 115 A larger audience has seldom been witnessed here on a similar occasion, than that which occupied the church on Wednesday morning and the preceding night. It would give us pleasure to regard this as an indication of assuring interest in the pros- perity of the college." And after some very strong writing comes this sentence of unmistakable Johnsonese: "In almost every State, public means of instruction are maintained by public patronage, and are esteemed and cherished as invalua- ble instruments of public prosperity. We may readily imagine then the judgment which an enlightened people in an age of great and progressive illumination, Avill be prepared to pass upon a community which blindly forgets the means of its ex- isting greatness, and wilfully rejects the only means of future elevation." The fourth page is mainly occupied by Foreign News. This department of the paper is in the stately Gazette style of the same columns in the London Times. It is no doubt a genuine extract from some English paper. The tidings from Greece, in particular, are given in a very sonorous and spirited manner. Redshid Pasha had turned towards the interior. The Constantinople fleet had returned a second time to Nava- rin, leaving four Greek brigs under Lord Cochrane to blockade the entrance of the Gulf of Corinth. Tidings also had arrived li-om Napolithat some Greeks occupying a convent had beaten and driven back 1500 Arabs whom Ibrahim Pacha had ad- vanced against them. Four hundred of the Barbarians had been slain on the declivity of a hill, where the descendants of Leonidas had pjreparsd an ambush. The last piece in the paper, which is on " The Sea," is cer- tainly by some writer after the discovery*of steam, and if not already appropriated, may be safely attributed to the young scholar whose pen we have seen to have been so busy on the first page. The treatment of the subject is very brief and yet very exhaustive. The style is so altered, as not to be recog- nizable. That very summer he had made his first visit to the sea-shore, having gone to Long Branch with his parents. He always used to say that what most impressed him on the 116 "THE SEA." [182T. sea-beach was the thought that he was on the edge of a great continent. THE SEA. "There is something in being noar the sea, like being on the confines of eternity. It is a new element, a pure abstraction. The mind loves to hover on that which is endless and forever the same. People wonder at a steamboat, the invention of man, managed by man, propelled by man, that makes its liquid path like a raihvay through the sea. I won- der at the sea itself, that vast Leviathan, rolled round the earth, smiling in its sleep, waked into fury, fathomless, boundless, a huge world of water-drops. "Whence is it? Whither goes it? is it to eternity or nothing ? Strange, ponderous riddle ! that we can neither penetrate nor grasp in our comprehension, ebbing and flowing like human life, and swallowing it up in ' thy remorseless womb ' : what art thou ? — what is there in common with thy life and ours who gaze on thee ? — • Blind, deaf, and old, thou seest not, hearest not, understandest not ; neither do we understand, who behold and listen to thee ! Great as thou art, unconscious of thy greatness, unwieldy, enormous, prepos- terous, twin sister of matter, rest in thy 'dark unfathomed cave ' of mystery, mocking human pride and weakness. Still it is givea to the mind of man to wonder at thee, to confess its ignorance, and to stand in awe of thy stupendous might and majesty, and of its own being that can question thee." * * In singular contrast with this successful essay in the sublime style is a critique that appeared in another issue of the Patriot, of Shelley's Poems ; which were then agitating the literary world of Europe. We do not scruple to make a few extracts. * * * "The particular composition of Shelley's which forms the subject of this review, is Prometheus Unboimd, which its author denominates a Lyrical Drama, although, as its author observes, it has neither action nor dramatic dialogue. It may be observed by the way, that writers of this school are ex- ceedingly apt to miscall and misapply. The ' Prometheus Unbound ' maybe regarded as a text-book in this style of composition. The dramatis personse are as follows : Prometheus a male nondescript, being neither god nor man. Asia, Panthea, and lone, female non-descripts ; Mercury and Apollo, gods; the Furies, and a Faun. To these add several voices — as the voices of the mountains, voices of the air, voices of the whirlwinds, and a large assortment of spirits, such as the spirit of the moon, of the earth, of the human miud, of the hours ; who all, says the Reviewer, attest their superhuman nature, by singing ^T. 18.: CRITIQUE ON SHELLEY. 117 At the time Mr. Alexander assumed the editorial charge and saying things which no human being can comprehend. As a specimen of the Lyrics, take the following speech of a cloud : 'I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the cavtrns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.' And the following song by the spirits of the human mind : ' Earth, Air, and Light, And the spirit of Might, Which drives the stars in their fiery flight. And Love, thought and breath, The powers that quell death, Wherever we soar shall assemble beneath.' "In imitation of this wonderful production, I once projected a Lyrical drama of my own, which I entitled 'Flibbertigibbet in Liquor.' After so long a preface, it may be unpardonable to insert a portion of the first scene. I shall do so however at all hazards, and appeal to any impartial judge whether the imitation even approaches to caricature. SCENE I. ENTEK TWO SPIRITS. [Spirit ryf Turpentine iingsJ] We come ! we come ! From the hidden recess of a puncheon of rum, Our fragrant breath, On the wings of death. Is building a house for the deaf and dumb. [Spirit of Wine si7igs.] Hark! Hark! On the breast of the waves the seadogs bark, The frantic boy. In his senseless joy, Leaps into the jaws of the hungry shark. — [Spirit of Turpentine sings.] Sleep! sleep! Spirit of Wine, thy mighty watch keep, The billows sigh. While the phantoms fly, To their cold wet home in the gloomy deep. ENTER THREE SPIRITS. [ Voice of Grog sings.] Down! down! Where the Spirit of Wine and his train have flowii 118 PARTY POLITICS. [1827 of the Patriot, party politics were running high.* The iieroe canvass between John Quiacy Adams (then President of the United States) and Andrew Jackson was in agitation. The paper was to be neutral ; but the people expected some politics ; and so, to meet this demand, the masked editor would write an editorial arguing the questions on both sides and in a manner so adroit that it Avas not only impossible to discover on which side the new champion Avas preparing to do battle, but even to detect where his private sympathies lay. The soul of the v/orld, In darkness furled, Has passed to its tomb with a speechless groan! [ Voice of' Grary sings.'] The Spirit of Moisture conies flying abroad, And his train is borne by the Cyprian god, Behold, Behold, The voice of the ghost Of a murdered toast Sings an anthem of praise in the palace of gold. [Voice of Garlic sin^s.] Fire! fire! Rise on the wings of blue desire ! The billows laugh, For the spirit of sleep, In the lowest deep Is building a snowy cenotaph. [The Three Voices.] Tlie hour is come— from the puncheon of rum — I see the spirit come flaming around. 'Tis done— 'tis done— on a beam of the sun— We pass to our graves with an earthquake of sound. itfi/sio— The spirit of sleep playing upon the Solar system." This extravaganza is signed W. The letters of Job Raw, on Commence- ment Day and other topics, are full of the adventures of an absurd greenhorn who makes as many mistakes as Ycllowplusli or Mrs. Partington. * Numei'ous allusions to this contest will be found in the "Fortv Tears' Famihar Letters " of the Rc^. J. W. Alexander 'D. D. The members of clie family were amic.iljly divided on this question. The subject of these memoirs was a political Gallio. ^T.18.1 PUZZLING LEADER OF AUGUST, 1827. 119 The truth was he was as strictly impartial as he professed to be, but not so warmly interested in the clash of weapons. All that was a ruse. A specimen of these puzzling political (or anti-political) leaders is subjoined. It is enough to show how keenly observant Mr. Alexander was of what was going on in the world. The following editorial came out in the Patriot of the 18th of August, 1827, and excited much curiosity as to its author- ship : "As we have already intimated our intention to abstain from any participa- tion in the political conflicts which divide and agitate the public mind ; and as neutraUty is, in these days of violence, regarded as more questionable and sus- picious than the utmost extravagance of party zeal, we submit to our readers the following considerations, which we trust will serve both as an exposition and vindication of the course which we have adopted. It is to be lamented, that, while there is little or no essential difference of opinion among a large majority of the people as to the fundamental principles which ought to govern the councils of the United States, the political warfare of the present day is waged in a spirit which to every man of impartial and unbiased judgment must appear unnecessary and even prejudicial to the character of our country. The privacy of domestic life has been invaded ; — alleged offences, which lime had consigned to oblivion, have been raked from mouldering records ; — con- flicting and recrimitative accusations of the most startling magnitude and impor- tance are urged by hostile partisans with a zeal and vehemence which makes it difficult to ascertain the truth. On one side it is averred, that General Jackson is a ' Military Chieftain,' regardless of the constitution and laws of his country ; — that he is no friend to the policy by which the industry and resources of the several states can be most successfully employed ; — that he is supported by men of desperate character and ' vaulting ambiiion ; ' that his private history is sulUed with crimes ; — that the principles on which he would administer public affairs are in a great measure unknown, and, so far as they can be penetrated, at variance with those which alone can conduct the nation safely in a career of prosperity and greatness. To Mr. Adams it is objected, on the other side, that he has been tried and ' found wanting ; ' — that his adherents have made a party question of that which ought to have been supported merely on natioril grounds and left to rest upon its own merits ; that by this course they ha-jc not only put in jeopardy the due encouragement of national industry, but have thrown the apple of discord amongst the members of the Union ;— that he has not redeemed the pledges which on various occasions he has given, with respect to the principles which should govern him in the execution of his responsible trust ; — that he has employed the patronage of his office, merely to secure his 120 PUZZLING LEADER OF AUGUST, 1827. [1S27. re-election, and without due regard to the qualifications of the candidates, and has thereby sacrificed the public weal in seeking to promote his personal inter- ests ; — that from vanity, or want of correct judgment, he has excluded us from a most profitable branch of foreign commerce ; — that the means by which he at. tained his present elevation were such as render his future exclusion from office necessary to vindicate the purity of the elective franchise, and essential to the honour and future safety of the country. " Such are the charges proclaimed against both the candidates for the presidential chair through the medium of the press. Many of them have been recently promulgated, and are yet to be sustained by evidence, or demonstrated to be groundless. Independent of both parties, wishing to decide aright, and anxious only to serve the cause of truth and of our country, we cannot con- sistently with the dictates of conscience, at the present stage of the controversy, take a side with either of the contending ranks. " Such evidence may hereafter be adduced that General Jackson is hostile to the plan which when properly modified will, we think, promote the welfare of every part of the Union, as will satisfy us that the public good cannot be ad- vanced by a change of the administration. Nor is it beyond the bounds of pos- sibility, that such testimony concerning the means by which Mr. Adams came into power may be made public, as to render it our duty to oppose his further continuance in office. Such being the state of the question, and having more than a year before us, we shall await with patience the developments of the future, without pledging ourselves to any man or set of men. We shall use the prerogative of a free press, and utter, with independence, but with becoming deference, our sentiments respecting public men and public measures. Measures which we think calculated to promote the public good we shall never condemn, whatever may be their origin. The honest acts of a wise, firm, liberal and in- dependent government, shall receive whatever aid our feeble exertions can afford them. \Vc shall conclude this article, already perhaps too much ex- tended, by an enumeration of the qualifications which in our humble opinion should distinguish the chief magistrate of this republic. He should possess firmness enough to do what he knows to be right. He should regard more the interests of the country than the stability of his own power. He should have courage and wisdom to call to his assistance the wisest counsellors, and select for office the most able men of unsullied integrity within his reach. The rays of executive displeasure should never be concentrated on the humble citizen to consume and destroy him, because in the just exercise of a freeman's right he condemns measures of dou!)tful expediency. Wasteful expenditures he should discountenance and resist. The interests of every section of the country it should be his study to promote; nor should he, to extend his influence and perpetuate his power, patronize measures detrimental to one portion of the Union for the benefit of another. In short, THE COUXTIiY, THE WHOLE COUNTRY f^'hould occupy every aff'ection and actuate every measure of a President of the United States. We now submit the matter to the judg- ^T. 18.J WRITING OF FICTION. 121 ment of our readers. When the proper time arrives for us to choose a side, we hope to be able to give satisfactory reasons for the opinions we may then main- tain, so as to merit the countenance and support of just and impartial men. In the mean time, we will gather for our own information, and lay before our readers all the important political information from both sides which may have a proper bearmg upon this great controversy, in the full persuasion, that fearless neutral- ity where both parties are in fault, is the duty of every Patriot. "The great Bacon, describing the qualifications and duties of a chief magistrate, declares it to be essential that ' he set not to sale the seats of justice, for that oppresseth the people,'— that inutilis ceqtdtas sit not in the chancery, for that is iriepta misericordia ; that utilisi incequitas keep not the exchequer, for that is crudele latrocinium ; that infiddis prudcntia be not his secretary, for that is auffuis sub viridi herbal The last extract I shall make from the Patriot, is the con- cluding chapter of the beautiful eastern tale entitled, The Jewess of Damascus. Thi.^ is the best specimen now extant of Mr. Alexander's style in serious oriental fiction. It bears a certain resemblance in some of its characters, and in the general diction, to Ivanhoe. But it is still more like one or two chap- ters in the Talisman,* and may have befti to some extent a deliberate imitation. There is little doubt that in comprehen- sive force and grandeur of imagination, and in fertility of in- vention, as well as in observation of nature and manners, in knowledge of human character, in genuine healthy passion, and multifarious though not exact and critical learning, and in quality of style, considered as admirably suited and propor- tioned to his subjects, Scott has had no equal since the days of Shakespeare. But of Mr. Alexander it may be said that he also had rare gifts of imagination, and a productive power of untold fecundity and versatility ; and a knowledge of human nature that for one who was regarded by many as a mere vil- lage recluse was truly wonderful ; and he possessed in addition this notable advantage over the wizard of the North, that he was intimately and even critically acquainted with the history, literature, and tongues of the lands of the Syrian, the Persian, and the Arab, of which he wrote. This is said merely in the * The Tales of the Crusaders came out in 1825, while Mr. Alexander was a Junior in college. 6 122 JEWESS OF DAMASCUS. C182T way of introduction to the concluding passages of the story itself, and to indicate the opinion that certain extracts drawn from the two writers may be compared without serious injury to the reputation of the stripling scholar. Let it he borne in mind, however, that writing novels and poems was the main business of Scott's life; whereas it was Mr. Alexander's occa- sional pastime, and the pastime of his younger years and idlest hours. The attention of the reader is specially invited to the magnificent description of Damascus as it lay sparkling in an oriental sunset. It reminds one of the opening paragraphs of the Talisman : THE JEWESS OF DAMASCUS.* ( Concluded.') " The Aga of the Janissaries paused. The workings of a better spirit were visible in his countenance. ' I know not,' said he, at last, ' whether I ought to release you upon any terms. But you seem a stranger ; and I will take it upon myself. You are free, if you will profess the faith in the presence of these witnesses. Speak quickly, rise, and begone.' A sentence of death could scarcely have been more dreadful to the Jew than this unwonted indulgence of the Turk. ' Ah,' thought he, ' the tender mercies of the ungodly are cruel. No, let me die, rather than again abjure the covenant of Abraham.' But as he formed this mental resolution, the recollection of the enchanting pros- pects it would blast, and the agony which his imprisonment might oc- casion to more than one affectionate bosom, rushed upon his soul. He reverted to the horrid stories of long captivity and dreadful death in the dungeons of the Turkish Empire, and thought of the many chances against his ultimate deliverance, and of the ruinous sacrifices by which, if obtained at all, it must be purchased,— his bosom was rent by an agonizing conflict.— Truth, honour, devotion to his God, and a solemn pledge to earthly friends, impelled him to refuse ; while the dread of unknown sufferings and of certain disappointment, urged him to obey. The struggle was transient, however, though terrific. He buried his face in his hands, and seemed absorbed in prayer. He was, indeed, beseeching pardon for the falsehood he had resolved to utter, and * The final chapter of the Jewess of Damascus stands next in the column to the critique on Shelley. ■^T. 18.] JEWESS OF DAMASCUS. 123 breathing at the same time to Heaven the profession of bis true belief. Then without raising his eyes, after several fruitless attempts to articu- late, he muttered in Arabic the solemn confession, ' There is no God but God, and Mohammed is his propliet.' " ' He has spoken it, Aga,' said a surly Janissary, who stood directly by him, 'but we know not what he has muttered to himself besides.' ' Hast thou confessed the Prophet, Ishaak,' said the Aga, who now sat upon his horse and overlooked the multitude, ' Dost thou acknowledge thyself a Moslem ? ' " It was only by a mighty effort that the Jew could give utterance to the words 'I do.' ' Thou art free,' said the Aga ; and applying to his mouth the silver trumpet which was suspended at his saddle-bow, he gave a single blast, and turned his horse's head in the direction of the castle. The Janissaries gathered around their leader, and in a few minutes the distant sound of their horses' feet had wholly died away. " Never, perhaps, did a release from danger occasion so little satis- f;iction. Ishaak now reflected that he had violated his duty to heaven, broken his pledge to his dearest friends, and abjured the religion of his fathers. He was wholly unable to rise from his knees till the last of the spectators who had remained to pity and insult him, grew weary and departed. At last, when the crowd seemed finally dispersed, he arose slowly from the earth. But when he lifted his eyes he remained petrified and aghast. In the middle of the street stood a camel bearing on its hack a litter of that description used in journeys by eastern fe- males of superior rank. The curtains of this litter were withdrawn, and within, the astonished Jew beheld unveiled and fixed upon him the countenance of Miriam. Grief, anger and amazement beamed from her kindled eye, and contempt sat quivering on her lip. As her look met his, she dropped her veil, the curtains were hastily closed, and the camel proceeded on his journey. '• The emotions of the Jew at this unexpected sight would defy any attempt at description. An hour or two pa-sed by, during which he remained in a state of torpid frenzy. He was wholly insensible of present objects, and without a distinct recollection of the past. At the end of this time he found himself again before the door of Asher Zid- dim. Again he kissed the threshold, and again gave the signal for ad- mission. The door was opened cautiously as before, and by the same grave dome^^tic ; but the vi-itor was not received with the same cordial and respectful avcIc. me. The servant came out to receive his com- mands, and gave him no invitation to come in. Ishaak mechanically named his master. ' He seeth no one today.' Ishaak muttered some 124 JEWESS or DAMASCUS. ^827. incoherent questions respecting Miriam, and Ler journey to Sidon - ' The damsel goeth not forth to Sidon,' was tl>e L.conic answer, and the frantic Ishao.k departed in despair. , , ^ i i i i ;.. "It was sunset-a glorious hour in that land of unclouded shies- when a traveller journeying towards the sea, paused to look back upon Daniascus. It was the same stranger who had surveyed the landscape when glistening in the freshness of the morning. But the man seemed not the same. The lofty hearing of his front and the proud ghmce of his eye were exchanged for the contraction of inward pam and the fit- ful gleam of terror and conscious guilt. He gazed long m s> ence on the city as it lay gilded by the parting rays of a rich autumnal sunset Tbe splendour reflected from its domes and spires, though less chxzzl.ng than that which appeared in a morning view, was more beautitul and chastened. Instead of the unvaried golden tint which then overspread the scene, the different objects now displayed an endless variety of hues. Over one was spread a colouring of purple. Another was arrayed in a robe of fiery red; while the highest points m the view, the pinnacles and spires, were still gleaming in tlie simple brightness of unmingled sunshine. - 'Thou art still beautiful,' said Ishaak, ' but the glory in my eyes has departed. I look upon thy palaces, but I no longer covet them : I survey thy groves and viueyards, but I desire them not. Thou hast been to me a blasting and a curse, and now thou smilest in thy scorn upon him whose peace thou hast destroyed.' " He turned aside to a fresh and sparkling fountain which threw up its liquid columns from a marble basin in a neighbouring enclosure; and having bathed his throbbing head in its crystal waters, bade farewell forever to Damascus, and journeyed on. " There are few spirits so exempt from the debasing imperfections ot humanity as to endure the severing of ties which once seemed niter- woven with the heart-strings, and still retain perfect equanimity of fcelin'^ If there is any principle in action among men which can accoinplish this in even a moderate degree, it is the principle of re- ligion It is such a sense of devotion to the service of heaven as makes it^ siibject forget and undervalue the affections and associations of earth. Yet even this principle, all-powerful as it is has seldom he effect of producing entire oblivion or indifference, llus was sens.bly felt by Father Isaac, the revered and holy monk of the Convent o St He had long since renounced the obstinate unbehef of Judaism. His heart had been subdued by the energy of grace, and his understanding had bowed to the omnipotence of truth. He had jEr.13.-i JEWESS OF DAMASCUS. 125 retired to the duties and enjoyments of monastic seclnsion, and bj the holiness of his life and the warmth of bis benevolence had gained the reverence of his order and the grateful afi'ection of the poor. Yet there were times when, in spite of all his efforts to suppress it, the memory of former days would rise upon bis view. His sins and follies be voluntarily recalled as subjects of repentance and self-abasement before God. But with them there often came inseparably mingled images of joy and pleasure which he would gladly have forgotten. Among these, there was a dream-like form which though sedulously excluded from his waking thoughts would often flit across his mind amidst the airy pageant of some delightful vision. He tried to look upon it as au angel ; but memory and conscience whispered that it was a woman. "The summer of 18— brought an influx of Jewish refugees to the city of Genoa. Among the rest were a considerable number of exiles from Damascus. The oppressions of the Moslem had become intolerable, and even the venerable Asher Ziddim, though far beyond the appointed goal of threescore years and ten, chose rather to brave the danger of a boisterous voyage and become in his old age a stranger in a strange land, than to endure contempt and suffer persecution in the contaminated city of his fathers. His daughter clung to his side. They were all to each other. She renounced every other association to be the solace and companion of her aged parent; while be had made it the object of all bis efforts and designs to create and preserve the happiness of his only child. The arrival of these emigrants was not long a secret, even in the cloisters of St, . The monks in succession visited the city to labour for the conversion of these unbelieving strangers. Yet there was one who steadily refused to aid in this pious enterprise— and, strange to tell, that one was the most revered and loved for piety, benevolence, and zeal, the self-denying, devoted Father Isaac. " Weeks and months rolled by, and each as it passed brought tidings of the humanity and kindness of the devoted Damascenes. The aged Asher had fortunately rescued a large proportion of bis riches, which by the hands of his daughter, at once bis almoner and steward, were freely dispensed to feed the bowels of the poor. The name of Miriam, unbeliever as she was, soon furnished a theme of eulogy to every tongue; and it became at last a current saying among those who fed upon her bounty, that the balance of Justice would make no distinction between the good \s^orks of Isaac the Christian monk, and of Miriam the Jewess of D-imascu-." This tale, like the panegyric of the Persian Poets, is printed 126 THE EMPORIUM. n82T. under the signature of AIL The indulgent reader Avill not forget that it was written hurriedly for the columns of a vil- Inge newspajier. It appears to have been modelled in some degree, as regards its form, after the ingenious romances which Avere already beginning to fill the pages of the English periodicals. It would have been read with interest had it appeared in Maga. It is thought by some that this story would not have done discredit to John Wilson, or to Lock- hart, on the score of imagination and diction, while it is doubted Avhether either of these could have more successfully preserved the oriental, and yet modern, vraisemblmice. But the New Jersey Patriot was not the only sheet to which Mr. Alexander was contributing these fugitive essays. He was also writing frequently, if not so constantly, for a journal known as the " Emporium." It is to be regretted that most of his communications in that quarter have been lost. The Emporium was also a weekly paper, and was published in the city of Trenton, then as still the capital of the State. It was first of a literary and miscellaneous character, but after- Avards became the leading Democratic organ in New Jersey. It Avas established, published, printed, and edited, by Joseph Justice and Stacy G. Potts, under the firm of Justice & Potts. Mr. Potts, then a young printer, afterAvards became an emi- nent lawyer and a Judge of the Supreme Court of New- Jersey. He Avas in later years a gentleman of much dignity and suavity of manners, and of most agreeable social qualities, and withal a person of the highest probity and excellence of character. For this journal Mr. Alexander wrote copiously while in col- lege, and after graduation published much which cannot now be recovered.* It must not be forgotten that all this was the merest diversion. This tide of matter for the newspapers was wholly l)roduced, one may say, while the other young men about Princeton Avere engaged in their walks and talks, Avere visiting * A gentleman who lias kindly examined the files of this paper for the pe- riod in question, assures me that there are pieces which " read like him," but he is unable to identify any of them. ^l. 18.1 ESTIMATE OF TIME. 127 their sweethearts, or were playing ball in the college campus. He too, it must be admitted, was at this time somewhat fond of walking, and would occasionally take a cheerful stroll, as we have seen, with his friends Mr. King or Mr. Napton. It was observed, however, that with the exception of Mr. Boiling's, he seldom entered a friend's room between recitations, or be- fore the hour for college prayers, a degree of abstinence which was considered a sign of great self-denial in an undergraduate ; nor did he usually encourage his fellow-students to visit him at his own home. This we may be persuaded was from no lack of hospitality on his part, and I have never heard that it gave any oflence ; but simply from a recluse habit already formed, and a passion for saving not only the precious ingots but even the golden dust and filings of time. He was remark- able for this peculiarity through life. He would rush from the breakfast table to his study as if an enemy were pursuing him, and slam the door as if he was angry : but the next mo- ment he would be heard murmuring in an earnest rapid tone as he bent over the open books that covered his table. He also had a habit at times of snapping his eyes, as if involunta- rily, perhaps unconsciously ; first one and then after an inter- val the other ; in a manner curious to behold, but which it would not be easy to describe. The movement did not dis- tort, but gave a kind of pleasing sparkle to his face. The gen- tleman who sat next to him at Baird's Academy says he was even then the admiration and despair of the school ; that his cheek was ruddy and his eye sparkling; that he was never known to make a mistake or a blunder in his recitations, or to fail to arrive at a perfect demonstration at the blackboard, and that no one ever saw him hesitate for a word. The im- l^ression of this gentleman was that "Addison could see through anything at a glance ; that he could not help solving his problems, if he triecV^ At the time of which I am now speaking, the year after he took his Bachelor's degree, it does not appear that he was much changed in his appearance or characteristics and habits ; except that he was visibly a little older, somewhat more sedate, more fully grown, and with a 128 READING HOMER. [1827 greater breadth of knowledge, cultivation, and experience of life. He was still, like the minstrel-warriour of Bethlehem Judah, "ruddy and withal of a beautiful countenance, and goodly to look to." Strange as it may seem, notwithstanding his reserve and bashfulness (for though the Avord bashfulness does not precisely express the shade of meaning intended, it is the only one except shyness that even verges towards a just description) and his solitary ways, he was among those who knew him well exceedingly popular. He was so modest and unassuming that no one envied him his growing honours. His compeers gloried in his successes as successes of the Academy, of the College, and of Whig Hall, He was not one of those who seem born to be admired and hated ; but one of those who though named only to be praised are known only to be loved. One of the very few records of Mr. Alexander's literary occupations at this time is furnished in the following statement with reference to the dates at which he finished the several books of Homer's Odyssey in Greek. He read it in the folio of Spondanus, Basle, 1533, the same copy which was after- wards perused by his brother James. He marked at the end of every book the time of his getting through it, and with the result exhibited in the annexed table : 1827. No.of . Book. No. of Book. I. January 22, 1827. Sin. February 10, TI. u 23, a XIV. 11 19, III. (( 24, u XV. u 21, IV. t( 26, u XVI. 11 27, V. (( 29, u xvir. March 6, VI. a 30, (I XVIII. 11 7, VII. Februar y 1, u XIX. 11 8, VIII. i( 1, u XX. 11 9, IX, u 6, 11 XXI. 11 10, X. (( 7, i( XXII. 11 12, XI. 11 8, 11 XXIII. " 12, XII. 11 8, u XXIV. " 13, I give here a letter which evidently, from its handwriting, ^T. 1S.J EARLY LETTER. 129 belongs to nu early period of his life. It Avoiild not he reco"-. nized as his by those who Avere familiar only with his manu- script of a later day. The only date upon it is the month, September. The internal evidence corresponds perfectly with the external, in pointing to a period anterior to the time when his writing became round and elegant. There is a greater freedom and elasticity of style than he permitted himself afterwards. It was addressed to his brother James in Vir- ginia and at Charlotte Court-House. Now his brother James went to Virginia in 1826 and returned in 1828, and did not reA'isit his old home in Charlotte till several years had elapsed. Moreover, the allusion in the letter to " a journey northward" is in such terms as necessarily imply a residence in the South, and not a mere visit to that region. This is fur- ther presupposed in the reference to a previous correspondence betv^^een the brothers. The mention of the elder brother's sickness, seems to fix the time as towards the close of his two years' sojourn in his native state. The repeated calling in of the name of Mr. Patton might seem to indicate the time the younger brother was that gentleman's assistant at Edgehill ; but this was not till November of the year following the elder brother's return to the North. We are thus shut up to three years, 1826, 1827, and 1828. In the autumn of one of these years the letter was written. There are some things Avhich might make one incline towards 1828. The letter shows him at work upon the Pentateuch. So does the journal for the winter of '28. The letter speaks of the recent completion of a poem entitled the " Tears of Esau," and the journal discloses the fact that he wrote off this poem for the columns of the monthly magazine on the 12th of January of that year. It is not necessarily implied, however, that he composed it then. It is more probable that be copied it. Besides, I find from his diary that on the 3d of January 1828, he was already deep m Exodus, whereas this letter though making copious refer- ences to the book of Genesis, makes no mention of any of the later books. Then again, in the letter he has a daily task of four languages ; in the journal (unless his j)ractice in the latter 130 WHEN WRITTEN. . [1827. part of the year differed from that in the earlier), of five, six, and sometimes seven: in the letter he has just mastered the forms of Spanish grammar, and has merely sent for Don Quixotte ; in the journal for Jan. 1828 he already has a daily task in Don Quixotte. This I think makes it certain that the letter was not written in 1828. It could hardly have been written in 1826, which was the year he was graduated. The little matters of Princeton news in the letter direct our view to the succeeding yeai-. A minute comparison of the letter with the journal renders this conclusion almost sure. I shall therefore assume that in September 1827, the young scholar was pursuing the study of Hebrew, Arabic, and Italian, and had just possessed himself of the rudiments of Spanish. He at this time scorned chrestomathies, and collectanea such as Dalzell's. He thought the best way of mastering a ncAV lan- guage w^as to open a great classic and go through it from cover to cover with the forms, the rules, and the lexicon. It was doubtless the best way for him. He had the knack of penetrating the secret of a mass of foreign idioms at a glance, and of moving on at once to the subjugation of the literature. The literature was his main quarry after all. In Hebrew, he was now poring over the sublime and inspired words of Moses. In Arabic he put himself under the guidance of Mohammed ; in Persian, of Sadi and Hafiz ; hi Italian, which he was merely commencing, of Tasso. He soon after took up Cervantes, Ariosto and Dante. The letter about to be given has a laughable mixture of the boy and the man in it. It is written with all the reckless ease of a youthful correspondence with a cherished brother. Yet the writer never in his life threw out more sagacious hints on the subject of philology, and never wrote better or more playfully on the defects of current English style ; and he never expressed himself with more knowledge or a more pathetic tenderness in the av ay of criticism on the original Scriptures, regarded as a branch, and a most imposing one, of universal belles lettres. The critique on the Koran, that "bantling of Mohammed," is evidently the germ of the ^T. 18.] ADMIRATION OF HEBREAV. 131 larger and later one in the Repertory. It is at once shrewd, subtle and humorous. As a whole the reader will find this learned, elegant, discriminating, free and easy, bantering effu- sion, as well worth reading as any of his similar productions in after years. It is very precious in a biographical point of view, as a fragment of records Avhich have long since perished. " Deae James, "The manner in which you speak of a journey northward has en- couraged us all to conceive a hope which you must take care not to dis- appoint. Meantime, let us have a little converse de omnibus rebus &c. " I believe you have received no letter from me since the receipt of your philological mammoth. Cordially as I concurred in the senti- ments which you there ex'pressed, I thought it advisable to make allowances for the evanescent nature of violent emotions and not echo your rhapsodies till I was sure that they were likely to continue. The absence of philology in your subsequent epistles is, I suppose, to be ascribed to sickness. I trust you have not lost the noble enthusiasm. I am studying as a daily task four languages. In Hebrew, I read the Pentateuch ; in Arabic, the Koran ; in Persian, Hafiz and Sadi ; in Italian. Tasso. You will not be surprised to learn, that my admiration of Hebrew grows continually. The exquisite and to me wonderful combination of primitive simplicity, and philosophical exactness in that mysterious tongue are without a parallel. The further I advance in the knowledge of it and its offspring Arabic, the more I am struck with the indications which present themselves, of their structure having been the result of elaborate research and subtle contrivance, and yet the simplicity which I have mentioned is so obvious and unequivocal as to preclude all hypotheses that might otherwise be formed. I am perfectly sincere when I assert that in every respect, the book of Genesis appears to me the finest specimen of historical composition that was ever pro- duced. I never thought so when I read it in English, though I must add, that the fidelity of our version is far greater than I had ever con- ceived to be possible. The translation which comes nearest to it in tliis respect is Sale's Koran, but alas, longo intervallo. The reason of his inferiority is to be found in the character of the Koran itself; for I do declare, that of all the ridiculous exhibitions of ignorance, folly, and stupidity that ever saw the light, this bantling of Mohammed (even in its original swaddling clothes) is the most absurd. The only thing to recommend it, is the number of ethical truths which it contains well expressed ; and occasional ebullitions of a fervid imagination in the 132 ITALIAN AND SPANISH STUDIES. [1827 ■way of description and apostrophe wliich no style nor subject can wholly suppress in the work of an Oriental writer. To return a minute to Genesis— how often have you ever read the 2Tth chapter in the original ? It is beyond praise as a touching narrative ; and nothing can be more pathetic than the point to which the story is brought in the 38tli verse. : 7j2*:i iVp lbs "I was so struck by the pathos of the story on a recent perusal that I threw it impromptu into very blank verse, which you will see in the Patriot. (By the bye send us some poetry.) " I am reading Tasso with great delight. It is surprising with what graceful unconstrained ease his thoughts succeed each other notwith- standing the awkward restraint to which the ottara riraa subjected him. The Italian, through its characteristic softness, seems admirably adapted to make the sound an echo to the sense. You know the verse which Blair quotes descriptive of the effects of a trumpet blown in the lower regions where tromba, rimbomba, piomba and similar words are admirably expressive. Mr. Patton says that no ancient or modern lan- guage is more rich in words descriptive of delicate and varying emo- tions, especially those of love. The following couplet by Tasso I have adopted as a valuable apothegm : " ' L'aspettar del male e mal peggiore, Forge, che non parebbe il mal prescnte.' I have mastered the forms of Spanish grammar completely ; and have just sent to Philadelphia for Don Quixote. M. Coulombe, a man edu- cated under the auspices of Napoleon and possessed of considerable learning, has established himself in Princeton. He teaches French ; and proposes to open a German school. Mr. Patton speaks well of him. As writing to you is tbe only vent which I find for my speculations on literature, I will set down two or three questions for your considera- tion. 1. Is not the imperative mood the root of the verb in all lan- guages; i. e.. Do you not suppose the first verb was used imperatively or oratively (ut ita d.\ and that it will be found in a majority of the diverse tongues that this is the simplest form ? Love— to love— T love. It is the only simple part of the English verb. 2. Ought not all col- lectanea on Dalzell's plan to be relentlessly proscribed ? They have hurt me exceedingly. 3. Ought not the republic of letters to pass an act abolishing punctuation ? Keep the period and the mark of interro- ^T.18.] TEARS OF ESAU. 1^3^ gfition ; but let the rest go hang. I am glad to see you disapprove tho dash. I loathe it as it is used by , e. g. : ' This work— and we wish we could say other works — came forth,' &c. No such form of a sentence should be tolerated. Dr. Johnson never used even a paren- thesis. There is little news stirring. The family are well. * * * * William sends you the Report of the Colonization Society, and wishes you to read Vroom's address and give your opinion. "Yours ever, "A." I have been so successful as to find the poem referred to in this letter, in an old brown fragment of the newspaper in which it originally appeared. The piece had been carefully hoarded by one of the author's playmates and oldest admirers. It pos- sesses a high dramatic and exegetical interest, and is unlike anything else from Mr. Alexander's pen. It will be remarked that notwithstanding the protest in the letter to his brother he has not discarded the dash or the parenthesis. The piece sheds some light, too, on his own character. He too was one day to be seen in tears and helplessness— "Ais mighty frame" also "shuddering in anguish"; and was to excite a similar surprise. lie too " loved not to be scanned so searchingly." It had been too long and injuriously thought of him that '•from an eye so hard, so diamond-like, infusible, though bright, the kindly drops of pity, love, or grief, ne'er found a vent." " Yet have I seen him weep * * * and heard him cry aloud in sorrow, as a child." The difference was this, Esau was really hard-hearted ; but Addison Alexander, with all his force and brilliancy of character, had also the gentleness and softness of a girl. THE TEARS OF ESAU. [From an unpublished DvamaJ\ Genesis, xxvii : 30—41. Mark yon tall chief returning from the chase : Canst thou not read in that deep wrinkled brow, That quivering lip, that fiercely flashing eye, The mingled characters of smothered grief 134 TEARS or ESAU. [1827 And rankling discontent? Thou readcst well. 'Tis Esau, first-born of the ancient Isaac, And monarch of the chase. There ! did'st thou see The sudden gleam his eye shot forth upon us ? Approach him not too nearly : drop thine eyes : He loves not to be scanned so searchingly. Yet men have guessed in vain what hidden crime Preys on his soul, and makes his eye a coward. The story which thou rcadest in his aspect Is written in the process of his life, And stamped on all his deeds. Proud, fearless, fierce, Relentless — ever mindful of his wrongs. Forgetful of the kindness which repays them. Who would not say that from an eye so bard, So diamond-like, infusible, though bright. The kindly drops of pity, love, or grief, Ne'er found a vent ! Yet have I seen him weepj Ay, seen him weep, and heard him cry aloud In sorrow, as a child. 'Twas on that day, When Jacob — but you know the tale of old. Ah, Arioch ! 'twas a sight to chill the blood, I scarce believed it ; though I stood in service Upon the dying bed of Isaac. There The rugged hunter knelt, and when he heard — The savoury food still smoking in his hand. And gently offered to his father's taste — Yes, when he heard the old man's faltering tongue In broken accents tell the treachery ; And saw those sightless eyes, with bursting tears Of agony distended ; and that hand. That withered hand, whose hallowed imposition Had laid on Jacob's head the promised blessing — When its cold trembling touch, reminded him Of all that he had lost — what did he then? I stood in staring terror to behold The wild and fearful bursting of his wrath Come forth in frenzied action : but it came not ; I looked again : for how could I believe, That Esau, the fierce hunter — that the Esau, Whom I had known so terrible in anger, Should bear his griefs thus meekly ? When I looked. His head was bowed upon his father's hand. His owr concealed his face ; his mighty frame ffiT.lS.] MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 135 Was shuddering in anguish : but anon, Between his fingers, drop by drop I marked The scalding tears were oozing, and I heard Those strong convulsive sobs, which more than tears Betray a man's proud grief. I could have wept To see him humbled thus. The gentler Jacob Might weep, and who would mark it ? 'Tis his nature. But to see tears upon the manlier cheek Of rugged Esau — 'twas a moving sight. Long did he weep in silence, but at last There came from him a wild and bitter cry, And then in deep and hollow tones he said, " Hast thou for me no blessing, 0 my father 1 " What could the old man say ? Before him knelt The eldest born — his best beloved son. Him whom he would have blessed, but for the arts Of Jacob and his mother. Once again. He murmured forth " thy brother — 'twas thy brother." Again wept Esau, and again he asked, " Hast thou reserved no blessing for thy son ? Thine Esau, Oh my father ! " Then once more The biting, blasting thought, that he had lost That mystic benediction, by whose virtue, The favour of Jehovah seemed ensured, Rose on his mind ; and as it rose he cried In bitterness of soul. But with that cry. His weakness ended, and his agony Passed from him as a dream. Across his brow, He drew his hand impatiently, then sprang, As if in anger, to his feet. His eyes. No longer bathed in grief, were fired with rage ; And on his quivering lip there seemed to hang. Unutterable things. The child was gone, And vengeful Esau was himself again. . t j During the year 1828 in the intervals of study he was also a frequent writer for the "Philadelphia Monthly Magazine," edited by Dr. Isaac C. Snowden.* Some of these contributions were in verse. The world of romantic literature, and es- pecially poetry, and the world of severe scholarship, seemed now to press their conflcting claims upon him. He may be thought to have stood for a moment as if irresolute, like Gar- 136 WRITING VERSES. [1828 riclc between tragedy and comedy, or like the hero in the Choice of Hercules.* Judge Napton assures us that his friend "was certain of success, if he had chosen to enter the domain of fiction. He probably never dreamed of this, but he had a strong yearning towards the poetic muse. There is no evi- dence, however, that he ever gravely meditated the pursuits of mere literature. The real conflict in his mind was between Arabia and America, the Orient and the Occident ; and, at a later day, between the law and theology. His efforts in verse were merely for the sake of mental diversion, or to please his friends. Alas, that we should haA'e so little from his j^en in the way of serious stanzas ! What we have gives us the strongest evidence of what we might have had, if he had not bent his M'hole mind on other things. The huge labours of the philologist and commentator, left little room for those of the bard, or even of the polite litterateur. Thus law checked the literaiy aspirations of Lord Mansfield : " How sweet an Ovid, Murray, was our boast ! How many Martials were ia Pulteney lost !" f And the speculations of moral philosophy proved too much for the genius of John Wilson, which hardly ever after blossomed into verse. The fairies, as an anonymous writer in " Black- * The following is a list of liis contributions to the " Philadelphia Monthly Magazine" in 1827 and 1828. I do not think he ever wrote for it afterward. Volume I. Page 125. "The Fastidious Man." " 170. " Oriental Literature." " 187. "The Complacent Man." " 212. "Archy McMorrow." Volume JI. " 74. "A Vision of Greece" (poetry). " 76. "Aut Caesar aut nullus." " 89. "Anecdotes of the Barmecides. From the Arabic." " 152. " Hurt Feelings." " 351. "Father and Son ; a Love Story." \ The Dunciad, Book IV., lines 169, 170. -iEt.18.] dr. SNOWDEN. 137 ■wood" 23reclicted at the time, vrere smothered in the Profes- sor's gown. He liad a good deal of private corresjwndence, too, at this time with Dr. Snowden, under w^hose good management the " Monthly Magazine " had reached a creditable degree of ex- cellence, though it was never widely circulated. In Philadel- phia, however, it was read by many cultivated people, and was to be seen upon the tables of most of the public libraries and lyceums. I have not rescued a single one of Mr. Alexander's notes to the editor, but several of Dr. Snowden's letters to the Princeton essayist have fiillen into my hands, and two of them are here given. They are all gracefully and happily expressed, and are good specimens of the old quill-pen hand then in vogue. They are all about the Magazine and Mr. Alex ander's varied contributions, which were sometimes grave sometimes gay. The distressed editor commonly beseeches his young friend to send him light and playful pieces, for vrhich he knows he has a cunning gift, but is almost always willing to publish even his most learned essays. These kind and in- telligent letters were sacredly kept by Mr. Alexander under the endorsement " Snowdeniana." " Philadelphia, Jam/. 14, 1823. "Dear Sir, ^ J , ■ " The fourth mmiber of the Philadelphia Monthly Magazine is just completed, and will appear as usual on the 15th. The conduct of a work like this is certainly a task, but to me a very pleasant one ; and would be still more so, if all my correspondents left me so little to correct as you. I have the same pleasure in receiving the communi- cations of several gentlemen, which I have in yours ; but some, the matter of which is excellent, I have to subject to modifications, which are sometimes very troublesome. " ' The Fastidious Man ' is quite a popular paper here, as it de- serves to be: the counterpart in No. 4 will I think please also. I am much pleased with the short article on Oriental Literature, and take this opportunity to remark, however strange it may appear, that subjects of an elevated character had better be deferred for the present, until the Magazine has acquired, by means of light and pleasing papers, that popularity which will enable a learned 138 HIS LETTERS. n82& article to stand it3 ground in the crowd. It may afford an. author some satisfaction to know, that four or five thousand readers have access to his writings every month, which is the case with the Magazine— not that it has so ample a patronage,— (the subscribers, though consisting of the first citizens, are comparatively few) but so many libraries, athentcums, &c.^ &c., have placed it on their tables, that the Avhole world seems to use it without contributing a cent to its support. This is a disadvantage to new publications— but it cannot be prevented. I think you might promote its interests by placing a copy of the third number (of which I send you tw^o) on the tab]es°of the Cliosophic and AVhig Societies. The result would be totally different in this case from that of those which I have just mentioned, since the students wiU only see it long enough to know its character, by the time they leave college, when, it is probable, many may think of subscribing for it on their return to their homes. This however I leave to your discretion ; if the societies should not think proper to subscribe for a copy each, I will present theni with one. I thank you for the paper on Self-importance, it is excellent in its kind ; but not, as you liave intimated yourself, exactly the thing that I wished. It wants some of the raciness of your first paper, as well as variety and point. Self-importance, as it manifests itself in a thousand forms in a city would admit of many choice touches. You have, however, treated the subject well, and in a style of much perspicuity and elegance. It will appear in the fifth number. "Let me request, if perfectly convenient to you, another short article in the course of two weeks, or earlier. Take any li-ht topic that may occur to you, and play with it, in your ancient namesake's vein ; and I will consent to your being learned, after a few more num- bers of the Magazine have appeared : I have held my own tongue (pen I should say) on classical matters ever since the first number, when I was informed, to my great surprise, that it was too learned. This is a droll age, but we must humour it a little, if we wish to make it wiser. " I am, dear Sir, with great respect, " Your unknown friend, " J. 0. SXOWDEX." "PniL.vDELrni.v, May 3, 1828. " Dear Sie, "I received your pleasant letter of May 1st duly. You desire me to indicate what class of subjects I prefer for the magazine, ' grave, or lighter articles suggested by fancy.' As you say it rests with me to say ^T. 18.] MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 139 what species I prefer, I will remark, that however agreeable it would be to me to insert graver papers, yet the success of the Magazine requires gaiety : your grave pnpers would be very acceptable to me, but I and all ray readers would prefer your gaiety. That faculty is rare. I have but two besides yourself who play in that vein. The mass of my correspondents are your grave gentlemen ; they abound ; I am at no loss for sober sense, in good taste : the inference then will be that efforts of fancy, playful essays or sketches, would be more desji-able to me and my readers. People in this age do not read magazines to get wise; e. g. Blackwood, Campbell, &c., &c. Choose then, my good friend, whatever subject you please ; and if at any time you have on hand something of the graver sort wjiich you may think a 'confounded good thing' and wliich you would like to see inserted, be sure to send it to me ; and if I entertain the same opinion I shall be happy to give it a pbice. This induces me to reply to a query in your letter and which you did not wisli that I should answer: I have never inserted an article— I will say line— I had almo.-t said word (such has been my care in these matter.-) which I did not approve of; or under the influence of any one. My control over tlie magazine is absolute ; for, while I am Editor, I am also the sole Proprietor, and my correspondents are numerous— e. g., seventy and more rejected papers (among wliich, to my grief I say it, is one by the worthy friend to whom I am at this moment writiuL', and which he sent me three or four months ago (Con- rad and Anselrao). " With respect to the article on Self-importance, which appears to have given you a little trouble, I may say that It did not meet my wishes: but then, the style, the diction, the flow of sentences, and other matters redeemed it, and I gave it place, of rigid, not as a perfect guest, but as one who deserved to be in good compnny. The piece, I assure you, was not without its friends— among them Dr. Franklin Bache. So much for 'Self-Importance.' "You say, you could give me a trifle on 'Hurt Feelings' Good! the subject will take. "You mention in a postscript 'Historical Romances in miniature,' founded on colonial and revolutionary legends. Such papers would be particularly interesting. "I hereby request my worthy friend 'A. J. A.' alias 'A. L. I.' to accept (for kindnesses already rendered), 'a complete set of the Philndelphia Monthly Magazine' for five years, commencing from October, 1828.' " I am, Sir, your unseen but sincere friend, J. C. Snowdeis-. " J. A. Alexander, Princeton. 140 PERSIA AND THE EAST. [1828. «I am still unwell— a chill and fever yesterday and much debility to-day— Twenty to one I have written as bad English, ay and Latin, scraps as that Irish gentleman Avho swore that no one could write grammar with such a pen. Pass over such foibles as those of an invalid. . , ... " God bless yon, and mend your manuscript : "Good-niuht, J. 0. S." It is interesting to read what he composed at tliis critical period of his life, whether in one mode or the other ; but the poetry has this charm, that these were in a manner farewell efforts. I give below two of the pieces contributed by him to the " Monthly Magazine." Though published later, they were both Avritten about this^ time. The first implies a probable acquaintance with the litera- ture of the East and especially of Persia. The second shows a growing enthusiasm for that of the West. We shall soon be^^convinced on still better grounds than any that have yet been given, that Mr. Alexander was neither a tyro nor a pre- tender in these matters. Moore has written Oriental verses ad nauseam without ever seeing the Orient or reading any one of its numerous languages. Kinglake and Beckford have written on the same subjects and with the same success in prose. But none of these has written such a Diary as the one on which we are about to enter. THE FALL OF ISPAHAN.* {From the Fersian.) The whispers of the morning breeze Through nodding groves of spicy trees Have roused the bulbul from his rest ; And springing from his fragrant nest He skims in search of hiscious food, Thy crystal waves, fair Zcnderoud ! \ But save the flight of that lone bird, No sound nor sign of life is heard ; • The City of Ispahan was sacked by the Afghans in the early part of the last ceu- tury. — J. A. A. t A stream running through the city.— J. A- A. ^T.18.] FALL OF ISPAHAN. 141 Nor voice of mirth nor busy hum Nor trumpet's blast, nor roll of drum, Nor horseman's march, nor camel's tread : But silence reigns, as deep and dead As when the march of time began. Through all thy dwellings, Ispahan ! Again 'tis morning; but no more The silence reigns that reigned before ; The dying child's expiring cry. The dying mother's farewell sigh, The groans of famine and disease. Are now the burden of the breeze ; The bulbul wheels his rapid flight Away, with wonder and affright — To see the dead by thousands strewed O'er the polluted Zenderoud ! To feel the hot contagious breath Of the stern messenger of death, To hear the murmur of despair Which agitates the troubled air. As famished beast and starving man Throng through the streets of Ispahan. Once more 'tis morning, and again The voice of nature and of men Is hushed in silence, such as reigns Through death's unvisited domains ; But not that calm and holy rest Which soothes to peace the troubled breas And guardian vigils loves to keep O'er the defenceless infant's sleep : The pause that now enchains the air, Is the dead stillness of despair : No more to greet the sun's first rays, The bulbul tunes his thousand lays ; * His song no more shall be renewed Along thy waters, Zenderoud ! For see ! o'er citadel and moat. The Persian flag has ceased to float. And struggling with the adverse air A stranger's flag is floating there. • One of the epithets applied to the bulbul by the Persian poets ia that of Ilezer-avaz or thousand voices, in allusion to the variety of its notes.— J. A. A. 142 A VISION OF GREECE. The strife is o'er ; the deed is done : The Persian warrior's race is run ; His sword is broken, and he lies In death, still gazing on the skies ; While o'er the dying and the dead, In sullen mockery is spread, The banner of the fierce Afghan, — And thou art fallen, Ispahan ! " About the same time ap2:)eared the following; A VISION OF GEEECE. Calm twilight o'er the Grecian isles lias thrown her veil of sombre gray ; The dying sunset's farewell smiles In golden pomp have passed away. No sounds the solemn silence wake Save ocean's deep and distant roar, As his chafed billows dash and break In sullen murmurs on the shore. But as that dull and dream-like song Subsides in momentary rest, A strain of music creeps along, As from the islands of the blest. Whence flow the sounds ? It is a lyre — And swept by none but Grecian hand ; In mingled tones of vengeful ire And sorrow for his native land. As lie pursues a theme so dear, Hark ! how the ancient cliffs prolong, With all their echoes far and near, The burden of the minstrel's song. ^ "Is this the land," he faintly sighs, "Where glory reared his crest of old. And freedom to the cloudless skies Her crimsoned flag in wrath unrolled ? " "Is this the land," he fiercely asks, As memory goads hini with her sting, " Tills land where bondsmen ply their tasks And kneel before an alien kins ? n82& ^T.18.J A VISION OF GREECE. 143 " Is this the land where Xerxes fled Alone, unarmed and in dismay? Is this the noble Spartan's bed ? Can this be proud Thermopylae ? " As the last echo dies away, A hollow voice responds to his — " Can this be proud Thermopylas ? " The answer comes — " It is, It is ! " And see ! above the hallowed tomb, Where sleeps the Spartan and his men, Their ghosts seem mustering in the gloom^ And rallying for the fight again. Behold ! behold ! the grisly band Have seized upon their ancient pass ; Before them stalks in stern command, The spirit of Leonidas. One shout — one shout of ancient days, And all is silent as before ; While from the cliffs a sudden blaze Its blood-red light begins to pour. Enough, enough, they work their will ; No sooner is the signal given. Than from the crest of every hill An answering beacon flames to Heaven. But what portentous sound is this. Which rises with the rising dawn ? Half-stifled shouts from Salamis, And cries of waf from Marathon. The spell is broken ! Arm for fight ! Vengeance is sure, for God is just ! Greece has arisen in her might, " And spumed her fetters to the dust Again, again, from every height, The war-cry sends its dread alarms ; Again the sun's returning light. Sees renovated Greece in arms. She invokes no more the fabled powers, Whom erst her magic minstrels sung ; Ui ENGLISH POETS. 1828. But to the wind from all her towers, The banner of the Cross is flung. No more the heathen anthem rings, To Mars from her embattled posts ; Her sovereign is the King of kings. Her patron is the Lord of Hosts. See land and ocean, tower and mast, Teeming with countless throngs of men ! The dream of servitude is past, And Greece is now herself again. The constellation of poets that about this time continued to fix the attention of the world and dazzle the eyes of the critics, could hardly fail to be an object of considerable attrac- tion to the author of these verses. As canto after canto, book after book came out, they were eagerly read by Mr. Alexander, as well as by his two older brothers. None of the gifted writers whose productions swarmed during this period and filled so much of the labours of Mr. Jefi"rey and his coadju- tors in the Edinburgh Review, seems to have exerted a more decided impression on the style of Mr. Alexander than those of Lord Byron. The American student was richly qualified to appreciate intellectual excellence of this sort, and his quick soul must have kindled under the inspiration. The correspondence, therefore, can hardly be altogether accidental between the stirring numbers of "the Childe" and the nervous diction and peculiarly sonorous rythm of every scrap of verse that fell from that young scholar. And yet the poetry of Addison Alexander is as original and sid generis as his prose. Some -of the very themes* on which Byron loved to write were also favourites of Mr. Alexander's. Much of this was doubtless due to a partial similarity of tastes, and perhaps * To say nothing of such familiar pieces as " The Isles of Greece," I need only point to the LXXIII. stanza of the second canto of Childe Harold, and the spirited translation of the Greek war song AeDre iralSes tojv "E.Wt]v<>)v of Riga, *' Sons of the Greeks, arise." Both of the last named contain like allusions to Leonidas and Thermopylije. The stanzas given in the text will not suffer in comparison with this animated lyric. ^T.18.] CHANGE OF STUDIES. 145 a resemblance of native talents. But he was now about to enter more and more heartily upon the business of a transla- tor and interpreter of foreign tongues, and to turn his back upon the captivating East and the blandishments of poetry. Like the Shepherd in Lycidas after a wistful retrospective glance, he was soon to cease his song. He touched the tender stops of various quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric lay ; And now the sun had stretched out all the hills, And now was dropped into the western bay; At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue; To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures Tiew, CHAPTER ly. The first records which I have been able to find of Mr. Alexander's studies as preserved in his own journals are now to be laid before the reader. The earliest allusions to his literary employments are contained in the two letters to his brother James, which have already been given. "Jan. 1.— Arabic, Al Koran, Suna 19. Hebrew, Exodus, chnp. xix. Italian, Tasso, Ger. Lib. Canto 12. Latin, Cicero iu Q. Cfficilium. German, Kules of pronunciation ; Greek, Matthew, chaps. 3-4:." " Jan. 2.— Hebrew, Exodos, chap. 20. Persian, Hafiz (Nott's Ed.) ode IG. French, Auxiliary verbs. Spanish, Don Quix. chaps. 27-28. Greek, Matt. ch. 4-8." "Jan. 3.— Hebrew, Exod. chs. 20-21. Arabic, Al Koran, Suras 19-20. Latin, Cicero in Cffilio, and pro Lege Mauilia. Gern:an, De- clensions of art., subs, and adj. Greek, Matthew, 9-12. Italian, Tasso, G. L., Canto 12 ; wrote paradigm of reg. verbs." "Jan. 4.— Hebrew, Exod. chs. 21-22. Persian, sundries. Spanish, Don Quix. clis. 28-29. Syriac, Michaelis gram, alphabet, points, regu- lar verbs. Greek, Matthew, chs. 13-16. French, wrote paradigm of eleven regular verbs (bis)." "Jan. 5.— Hebrew, Exod. chs. 22-23. Arabic, Al Koran, Suras 20-21. Latin, Cicero Orat. pro Lege Manilia. Greek, Matt. cbs. IV- 20.- French, Description de I'Arahe, par Neibuhr. English, Byron's poems. Italian, wrote translation of Historia Sacrn. German, wrote paradigms of ten auxiliary verbs." uja„_ G.— Hebrew, Genesis chs. 1-10; Exodus, 19-23. Greek, Matt. 1-G and 20-28. English, Butler's Analogy, Intro, and ch. 1. Italian, Tasso, Ger. Lib. canto 13." "Jan. 7.— Hebrew,* Exodus chs. 23-24. Persian, Persian contro- versies, slix-liii and Gulistan of Sadi. Syriac, Matt. chap, i : 6-17. Spanish, Don Quix. chs. 29-30. Greek, Homer's Odyss. Lib. 1. Mark 1-4. French, par. eleven regular verbs." " Jan. 8.— Hel>rew, Exodus, chs. 24-25. Arabic, Al Koran, Suras 21-22. Latin, Cicero's orations. German, revised nouns, adjs. and ^T.18.1 JOURNAL. 147 verbs. Greek, Mark, cb. 5-8. Italian, wrote traiisbition of Historia Sacra." " Jan. 9. — Hebrew, Exoil. cbs. 25-26. Persian, Pers. contro. and Gulistan. Syriac, Matt. cb. i. v. 18-25. Frencb, Levizac's grammar and irregular verbs. Spauisb, Don Quix. cbs. 30-31. Greek, Mark, cbs. 9-12," "Jan. 10— Hebrew, Exodns, cbs. 20-27. Arabic, Al Koran, Suras 22-23. Latin, Cicero, pro Arcbia poeta. German, tbe wbole of Wen- derbork's grammar, Greek, Mark, cbs, 13-lG, English, Otway'a pLiys. Italian, paradigms of regular and irregular verbs ; translation of Historia Sacra." "Jan, 11.— Hebrew, Exod. cbs. 27-28. Persian, Gulistan of Sadi. Frencb, regular and irregular verbs. Spanisb, Don Quix. cbs. 31-32, Greek, Luke, cb. i." "Jan. 12,— Hebrew, Exodus, cbs. 28-29. Arabic, Al Koran, Suras 23-24. Latin, Cicero. Greek, Luke 1-3. English, wrote * communi- cations for tbe Pbiladelpbia Monthly Magazine, viz. : 1. A dramatic fragment, 2. The Fall of Ispahan. 3. A Vision of Greece. 4. Tbe Tears of Esau." The diary of the next few days presents more fully his method of studying the various languages which now occu- pied his attention. What is extracted from these entries is a specimen of all. "Jan. 14.- Eead: in Hebrew, Exodus, cbs. 29-30.— May not our canopy he derived from the Hebrew 233, a wing? Tbe shadow of icings is a frequent expression in tbe Bible. There is another deriva- tion, more curious, and I think much more certain : I mean that of each from TTix : The use of tbis word as a distributive pronoun in Hebrew is very remarkable. One to another would be properly translated sinsn ix "^N a man to his friend or Irother. Nor is this mode of expression confined in its application to human beings, nor even to animals in general ; We find it used in Exodus with things which it would scarcely be possible to personify. For example ; — ' The five curtains shall be coupled' nninN bx ndx ^woinan, (or generi- cMy female) to her sister,'!, e. one to anotlier. 'And other five curtains shall be coupled ivoman to her sister.'' Anotlier peculiar idiom which occurs to me is that in wbicb tbe v>'ord son is used in connection * That is, I think he means, revised, copied and posted them. 148 DAILY STUDIES. tl828. with the number of years to express a man's age. To give one examplo out of many nrj nisi: d':;— |3 nb 'Noah was the so7i of six hundred years.'' This may perhaps be explained by the fact tiiat the terina expressive of natural relations among men, t^uch as father, mother, son and daughter, are frequentl>' used to express relations of a different kind and between different objects ; a large proportion of the Arabic proper names being formed by this rule. For example — ' Father of power,' i. e. the powerful. I have never, however, met with tliis idiom in the books of Moses in reference to any thing but the length of life." "2. In Spanish. Don Quixote, chs. 32-33. The most elaborate passage in tliis work of Cervantes which I have yet met with, is, 'La Novela del curioso Impertinente.' Indeed, from the pains which he takes to introduce all his episodes, it is evident that he laboured them with a care which he did not give to the main story. To this fiict he seems to allude himself when he speaks of the enjoyment which his liero had been the means of affording to the world, 'no solo de la dulzura de su verdadera historia, sino de los cuentos y episodios della, que la misma historia.' If the author had any partiality for this episode, 'La ISTovella,' it was certainly not a blind one. This story is finely conceived, ingeniously developed, and elegantly expressed. The speech of Lothario in opposition to the proposal of his friend is sa fine a specimen of ethical argument and eloquence, that the reader is tempted to exclaim, as Sancho to his master—' Mas bueno era onestra merced para predicadore que para cabellero andante.' The following sentence contains a strong but most expi'essive description of the eifect of suppressed sorrow, — ' No exensaras con el secreto tu dolor ; antes tendras que lloras contino si no lassimas de los ojos, lassimas sangre del corazena.'' "3. Persian. The Gulistan. Persian and Hebrew are radically distinct, in their genius and structure, as well as vocables. They agree however in this remarkable circumstance, that the government of one substantive by another is denoted by a change in the latter and not the former as in almost all other languages. The cardinal number fi.r siz is the same also in both the Hebrew and Persian languages. The Persian agrees with the Syriac (a derivative of Hebrew) with respect to the definite article, which is formed in both by adding a vowel at the end of the noun. The coincidences between the Peri-ian and English are very numerous and striking, and are rendered more remarkable, by the fact that many of the words common to both are simple, original, primitive terms used in ordinary intercourse, and not mere technicalities." ^T.18.] ENGLISH READING. 149 " 4. In English. (1.) Sir William Jones's anniversary discourse on the Philosophy of tlie Asiatics. I read tliis with a view to the composition of an article on the same subject. Sir William, however, speaks princi- I'ally in reference to the Hindus. I should confine myself to tlie Moham- medan nations. (2). The Ed:nburgh Review. Review of the Ilaniil- toiiian Syt-tem. I find I have adopted this system unconsciously in teaching J. A. and P. S. C. the Italian language. The principal difi"er- ence is this that I introduce grammatical inflexions at an earlier period. My rule is to give a short lesson translated word for word. When the meaning and combination of words is learned, to give the paradigms of the verbs contained in it to be committed to memory, and explain the other grammntical difficulties before proceeding fm-thcr. (3). The Red Rover, vol. 2, chs, 1-7. I am fond of beginning witli tlie second volume of a novel. It makes the first doubly interesting. I think the comparison, or rather the equalizing, of Cooper with Scott is highly unjust for these causes following: — 1. Scott, it is evident from every page of his works, is a tnan of taste. Cooper not. (2). Scott is always at his ea-e ; Cooper, constrained, and appnrently striving after some- thing unattainable. (3). Scott is always perspicuous. His pictures are not only striking in distant view, but perfectly intelligible in all their parts. Cooper, on the contrary, is often obscure, and that when he has no intention to be mysterious — and his descriptions frequently leave the mind confused anl clouded without any definite image to occupy it. Cooper may be a man of more depth and strength of feel- ing ; but Scott is vastly his superior in liveline-s and fertility of fancy. Cooper relies on the interest of his scene, and, at most, on variety of incident, to arrest tiie attention of his reader. Scott enchains it by the delineation of character. All Cooper's passages may be resolved into one or two varieties ; and of these few, some are unnatural and even monstrous; while Scott has an endless diversity, and all of them true to nature. The only passage in Cooper's writings I have met with approaching to suldimity, is the description of the storm in tiie first volume of the Pilot; but although the advantages as to scene and oir- cuni; tances would appear to be on his side, that description i^ nothing when compared with the escape of Sir Arthur Wardour, his daughter and Edie Ochiltree from the sea, in the Antiquary." "5. French. Telemaque, pp. 1-5. Wrote paradigms of all the verbs occurring in the aV)ove passage of Telemaque, being, in number, tliirty-five r.gular and sixteen irregular verbs ; total, fifty-one." "Jan. 15. — The finest passage which I have seen in the Koran is the comparison of the excellence of the wicked to the laTce of the desert 150 EARLY CRITICISM. [1828. (an optical illusion in sandy and hot countries), whicli occurs in the cliai)ter df light. I diffei* in toto from all ^Yritel•s who assert that Mohamnieil, in devising a religion for hi.s followers, proceeded upon anv regular plan whatever. We are too apt to ascribe motives to those who never felt them, and regard as deep-laid contrivance what proba- bly arose 'from accident. He was first an entliusiast ; a half-mad vision- ary. In this character he began his revelations, and afterwards finding their effect, became an ambitious aspirant after power. The idea that he endeavoured to adapt liis doctrines to the belief and propensities of particular sects, I think unwarranted: not only from his ridiculous anachronisms, but from the character of the stories whicb he gave as sacred history. All that he has borrowed from the Scriptures has the appearance of being caught from oral narration. When we consider the fondness of the Arabs for story-telling, we may readily believe that the Jews and Christians who were among them found abundant em- ployment in rehearsing impres?ive narratives of the Pentateuch and Gospel. That these should take slrong hold of Mohammed's mind, then in a low condition is not surprising. By nature imaginative, he may have brooded in secret over these historical facts, till he felt their influence in a rising desire to emulate the ancient prophets. This I believe to be the source of his Scriptural information. That he was actually assisted in the composition of the Koran by either Jew or Christian, I think improbable; because either would have given more connected narratives. In his own, not only is the truth diluted, but the facts confused and out of order, like the attempts of a man to re- pe;it a half-forgotten story." The fullowaiig criticism gives us an insight into his early tastes, confirming also the impressions and justifying the inferences which we have already drawn from otlier sources, as to his amazing intellectual energy : "Jan. 17. —Read the 'Red Rover.' After reading this novel through, I am inclined to think it the best, as a whole, of Cooper's writings. The interest is far more intense and better supported than in any of the rest. There is a sameness, however, in his descriptions which nothing but the comparative novelty of naval romance enables us to tolerate. The ships arc forever ' bending their tall sizars as if to salute' this or that object, and then 'gracefully recovering their erect position.' He is too fond, moreover, of ' lurking smiles,' and ' strug- "•ling smiles,' and other cant phrases of his own, which would appear ^T.18.] STUDIES rOR THE MONTH. 151 to indicate, that lie Lad no very vivid impression of tlie object in his own mind; but described rather by rote; so that liis descriptions, especially of men, are like set speeches, differing only in minor par- ticulars, but capable of being adapted, by a little alteration to any character. In denouement he is never successful. The winding up of his novel is wretched in itself and rendered more so by its resemblanca to the closing chapters of the ' Spy.' " This plan of writing down his thoughts on the studies and readings of the day he kept np for several weeks. I continue to quote from the journal : "Jan. 2G.— I have been reading the past week nine chapters in Hebrew ; seven chapters in the Koran, and one in the Arabic New Testament; twelve chapters in the Italian Bible ; two in the Persian New Testament; two in the Spanish do.; one in the German do.; three chapters in Don Quixote, and several passages in Telemaque." "Jan. 31.— During the month wliich is now closing, I have read thirty-two chapters in the Hebrew Bible, all of them twice and most of them three times ; seventeen Suras in the Koran— all of them twice except the first and last. I have also, within this month, begun the study of the German language, and made such progress as shall be mentioned hereafter. I commenced reading the Greek Testament on the first of the month, but discontinued it after finishing two gospels. On the 11th inst. I commenced the practice of repeating what I read in Hebrew in Martini's Italian version, which I have regularly con- tinued. On the 25th inst. I procured the 5th voUime of Walton's Polyglot, and since that date, have read the Scriptures in sis lan- guages on the following plan. 1. Leviticus in the morning; in He- brew critically, (i. e. with grammar and lexicon). 2. The Gospel of John in the morning in German— critically ; at night in Spanish cur- sorily. 3. The Gospel of Matthew in the morning in Persian— criti- cally; at night, in Arabic cursorily; repeating every day the readings of the preceding. Tliese readings have, since the 25th, been my stand- ing orders of the day, which I was not at liberty to set aside. My moveable orders of the day, which miglit be dispensed with, if neces- sary or shifted from one day to another, were— 1. The critical reading of Don Quixote in Spanish. 2. The reading of Telemaque in French. 3. All English reading ;' and lastly, composition. On Sundays I have been in the practice of repeating the portions of Scripture read during the week." "l^'eb. 2. — During the past week I have read, critically^ 1. In 152 STUDIES FOR THE WEEK. [1828. Hebrew nine chapters in Leviticus. 2. In Persian, five chapters in Matthew. 3. In Ai-abic, eight cliapters in Matthew and four Suras in the Koran. 4. In German, five chapters in John. 5. In Spanish, eiglit chapters in Don Quixote. 6. In Italian, nine chapters in Levit- icus. 7. In French, all the first book of Telemaque." "Feb. 9.— During the week which began on Monday the 4th and closes to-night (for I exclude Sundays), I have read critically— that is to say, with strict philological attention, and with the usual aids of grammar, lexicon, &c., as follows : — In Hebrew— Lev. 14r-23 ; In Per- sian, Matt. 9-14 ; in German, John, 8-13 ; in Arabic, Koran, 39-42 ; in Spanish, Don Quixotte, 39-41. In French, Telemaque, one Book. During the same period I have read cursorily — that is to say, with a view to philological improvement, but with less strict attention to ver- bal accuracy and grammatical niceties, (besides repeating in this way every day the portion read critically the day before) as follows:— In Arabic, Matt. 9-14 ; in Italian, Lev. 14-23 ; in Spanish, John 8-13. In addition to the above I have read attentively, ' Goode's Book of Nature,' ii.-vii., and skimmed over Dunham & Olapperton's Discoveries in Africa. To conclude, I have recovered my knowledge of the Syriac Alphabet, and acquired the Ethiopic." "Saturday night, 12 m., Feb. 16.— I have, during the past week finished in Hebrew, Leviticus, the third book of Moses, having been employed upon it since the 25th of January. It was not so pleasing a task as the perusal of Genesis, and Exodus (I speak more critico) — so many words occur of which the meaning is at best uncertain and the Avhole is so generally confined to a single subject, that there is com- paratively little room for philological [investigation]. The 26th chap- ter, however, is very eloquent, and it is very interesting to observe the difierence in the design and character of the different books of Moses thus far. The first is a picture of the ancient world and patri- archal times ; a history of the chosen people while favoured by the Deity but still living in the midst of other nations and complying with their customs. But the second begins the story of their sufferings and their wrongs, their deliverance and their government, and their journeyings toward that land where they were about to be established as a peculiar people. The third contains the detail of those singular ceremonial observances which were to be the badge of their distinction from the rest of the human race. — I have also finished, during this week, the same book in Martini's translation, having read every driy since the 16th of January (Sundays excepted) the same portion criti cally in Hebrew and cursorily in Italian." ^T.18.] QUARTERLY RETROSPECT. 153 These records, spreading before us as they do an exact chart of his course at this time, give one a good idea of his thoroughness and system in laying the foundations of his subsequent attainments. He continued to work under this schedule through the summer months. His labours are summed up in the quarterly retrospect following, viz. : "March 81.— The first quarter of the year 1828 is this day com- pletec]. A detailed review of all my studies during that period would be but a repetition of the foregoing pages. Laying aside therefore the consideration of subjects attended to accidentally, or on particular occasions, and of those which I have begun, and for various reasons abandoned, I shall confine myself to a consideration of my advances in the six languages which have been the regular and special object of my attention. "I. Hebrew. In Hebrew I have read since the 1st of January, the last twenty-one chapters of Exodus; the whole of Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, and tlie first fifteen chapters of Joshua; in all a hundred and tliirty-three chapters. " IL Arabic. In Arabic I have read the last ninety -five chapters of the Koran, and thirty-three pages in De Sacy's Arabic Chrestomathy, besides the Gospel of Matthew in "Walton's Polyglot ; making (exclu- sive of De Sacy) one hundred and twenty-three chapters. " III. Spanish. In Spanish I have read the last twenty-six chapters of the first part of Don Quixote, and the first eighteen chapters of the second part — in all forty-four chapters. " IV. French. In French I have read the whole of Telemaque; the ' Avare ' of Moliere, and two acts of Racine's Andromaque, besides a number of minor tracts. "V. German. The study of German I have begun within the quarter, and besides Wenderbork's and ISToehden's grammars, liave read the gospels of Matthew and John, in Luther's translation, and five chapters in the gospel of Mark — in all fifty-four chapters. " VI. Persian. In Persian I have read since the 1st of January the Gospels of Matthew and Jolin in Walton's Polyglot — and various parts of the Gulistan of Sadi and the Tooti Nameh.* The last two works I use in MS. To these facts it may be added that I have regularly instructed P. S. 0. and J. A. in Italian ; and have written sundries." * Or Tales of a Parrot. 154 VARIED READING. [1823. "April 24.— I was born on the 24tli of April 1809, and am con- sequently nineteen years old this day. Since my last birthday, besides parts and parcels of other works, t have read the following classical "works entire : "1. In Hebrew. The Pentateuch of Moses; the books of Joshua, Judges and 1st Samuel. — 2. lu Arabic. The Koran of Mohammed, the Gospel of Mattliew, and parts of Abulfaraj and Facklibeddin. 3. In French. The Telemaque of Fenclon, the 'Avare ' of Moliere and the Andromaque of Racine. 4. In Spanish. The Don Quixote of Cervantes. 5. In Italian. The Gerusalemme Liberata of Tasso and the Xovelle of Soave in two volumes. I am an enemy to all chrestomathies, collecta- nea, and other scrap-books for the students of any language. Where no other books can be had, the use of such substitutes is compulsory ; but Avhen entire classical works can be obtained, no student ought to hesitate. The Quarterly Eeview very justly says, that a young man of sense and diligence will learn vastly more Greek by one perusal of the Iliad than by any attention to such compilations as those of Andrew Dalzel. This has been my principle. "When about to learn a language, I have endeavoured to obtain a standard work of acknowledged merit, and read it from end to end ; and if no other such could be immedi- ately obtained, my rule has been to read the first again. To the above list I may add a sixth : 6. In German. The four Gospels, in Luther's version. I have determined that in the ensuing summer, in addition to my philological pursuits, I will read law, beginning with Black- stone's Commentaries." The following entries give a minute history of his studies for some time longer : " June 30. — 1. Since the "Ist of March I have i-ead in Hebrew, the last nine cliapters in the book of Joshua, the two books of Samuel, the two books of Kings, the prophecy of I?aiah, and twenty-two chapters in that of Jeremiah ; — in all, one hundred and forty-fonr chnpters. " 2. In Spanish, I have read during the same period the last fifty-six chapters of Don Quixote, and some numbers of ' El Mercuric de Nueva York,' a weekly newspaper published every Saturday. " 3. I have read in French the last two acts of Racine's Androm- aque, the first two acts of Corneille's Menteur &c., and one satire of Boileau's; also, the second volume of De Sacy's Arabic grammar. " 4. I have read in Persian twelve tales (or chapters) of the Tooti Nam eh. " 5. In German I have read the last eleven chapters in Mark ; all ^T.19.] PHILOLOGICAL SOCIETY FORMED. 155 of Luke, Acts, Romans, and t^vo cliapters in Corinthiaus— in all eighty- six cLapters. " 6. In Italian I have read the Last seven cantos of Tasso's G. L., and tlie first eigliteeu cantos of the Orhxndo Furioso— in all twenty- five chapters. " T. In Latin, The Institutes of Justinian. " 8. In Greek, The tenth hook of the Odyssey. "In English, Coke upon Littleton and the second hook of Black- stone's Commentaries—the latter a second time." " Aug. 23. The Philological Society was formed this day com- posed of graduates and students." The studies of the quarter are thus summed up : " Sept. 30. 1. In Hebrew. Since the 30th day of June I have read the last tliirty chapters of Jeremiah — the prophecies of Ezekiel, Ilosea, Joel, Amos, Obed, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, and thirty-six Psalms;— in all, a hundred and sixty- nine chapters. " 2. Italian. The last twenty-eight cantos of Orlando Furioso. '' 3. Spanish. Twelve numbers of ' El Mercurio, &c.' " 4. French. The funeral orations on the death of Marechal Tu- renne by Flechiea and Mascara ; the last two acts of the ' Menteur ' of Corneille ; otlier plays by same author and four comedies of Moliere. " 5. Arabic. Sundries in the Koran and Lokman's Fables. " 6. Persian. Sundries in the Gullstan and the Tooti Nameh. "T. Greek. Homer ; Ilias,L,IL,XVIIL: Odyssey, L, IL Sophocles, the Antigone, several hundred lines. No more. " 8. Latin. The first Book of Cicero, de Inventione Rhetorica. "9. English. Vattel's Law of Nations; the Federalist; the first two volumes of Stewart's Philosophy of the Human Mind ; the first two volumes of Kent's Commentaries on American Law ; the third volume of Blackstone's Commentaries (for the third time) ; and sundries." There are several allusions to Mr. Alexander's astonishing progress in Lis studies, in his brother's letters to Dr. Hall. On the 4th of April he writes, "Addison has just completed the Koran in Arabic, a work which few have attempted in America. He has added Spanish and Italian to his list of languages ; " ^' and on the 2Sth, " Addison has finished * See Familiar Letters, Vol. I., p. 66. 156 SCENERY OF PRINCETON. 1182a Ariosto, and is now at Boccacio. He has read about halt of 'Corneille, which I have also read. In Spanish AddisoK began Avith Don Quixote and read it over and over." * He was, like every other person of taste, a great admirer of the serious and gay creations of Cervantes, and laughed uncon- trollably at the absurdities of Sancho Panza. He was almost equally amused with Gil Bias, and despised the practice of reading such books in translations. It would be delightful to be able to look in upon tie young student as he bent his eyes over these tasks, mur- muring the while like a swarm of bees in the warm sun- shine. Princeton, tlie Princeton of that day especially, had attractions alike for old and young people. The society of the place was refined, intellectual, various, and agreeable, and would have been pleased to receive the noted graduate, editor, and magazinist to its bosom. Princeton is and was famous for its fine level prospects, and beautiful sylvan walks along the banks of streams that were still lovely, if not so fair and beguiling as Cam or Isis ; rustic shades which would have well befitted the speculations of Plato, and verdant undula- tions displaying the fantastically wreathen roots of the beech- ti-ee, or the summer shadows of the oak or dogwood or sassa- fras,— with many a shining surface of reflected sky and softly delineated cloud — where Isaac Walton might have pursued his sweet meditations, or Virgil or Theocritus piped to their imaginary shepherds. Every observing alumnus of the college or resident in the town, has noticed the rare glory of the sun- sets. Morning and evening, in good weather, nearly all the young persons of the place seized the occasion to take pedes- trian rambles ovei- the village roads and into the surrounding country. A wide lane shaded for a considerable distance by noble elms led immediately from the college, through green fields, to Stony Brook with its grassy meadow margins, and its isolated groups of trees, or denser forest stretched along the stream for miles. This lane commanded the rear view of the old grey building yclept, at the suggestion of good Gov- * See Familiar Letters, Vol. I., p. 109. ^T. 19.] DEVOTED TO HIS BOOKS. 157 ernor Belcher, ]^assau-Hall» This was from the college, south as the crow flies. The main thoroughfare ran east, through the oj^en country to Kingston. The prospect to the west Avas at that time full of umbrageous charm and shelter. To the north Avas Rocky-Hill, with its immense boulders and pre- cipitous acclivities. Nor were these various localities without their actual or traditionary associations. But the cloistered enthusiast was not vulnerable to any of these influences. " None of these things moved him." His passion for literature, the rapid progress he was making in different departments of science, his love of cheerful, indoor solitiide, his wonderful health and unflagging spirits, and his native shyness, and repugnance to the awkward contacts of the world, overmastered every thing else. The Spring might be never so balmy, the early Summer never so florid and in- viting, the autumnal coolness never so crisp and bracing, and the autumnal forests never so dreamily brown and crimson. What were these things to "Addison" — as he was still known among his old companions of the college and academy? He was a citizen of the world of mind. He wandered in the fields of thought. He took wing, and hovered over the con- tinents of literature. He was deaf to the voices of ordinary ambition. He coveted none of the intoxications of mere pleasure. "What"! he might exclaim, as he swept the pages of the Gulistan or the Cyropscdia, " what ! crave ye wine, and have Nilus to drink cf " ? Time was too short, it seemed to him, for any dalliance. Some might have to exercise their bodies to preserve their health; but it was diflerent in his case; he was, as Wilson used to say, " as strong as an eagle." He was as great a prodigy of flesh and colour as of intellect. Why should he exei-cise his body? Of recreation, other than in the pursuits of philology and belles-lettres, and in making fun for the bevy of children that was always at his beck and call, he needed none, he cared for none. His duty evidently was to inform and discipline his mind. No ! let others do as they liked ; he would keep hia room ; he would read the Bible, and the Koran, and Firdusi, 158 NUCIiEUS OF A LIBRARY. [1823. and Dante, and Tasso, and Xenoitlion, and Sir Walter Scott. This was to him, not hardship but joy ; not slavery hut free« dom ; it was his element. " Stone walls do not a prison make." No swallow was ever happier in the sky, than he was among his morocco-covered tomes. " Fishes that tipple in the deep, know no such liberty " ! Of course his library v\^as as yet but the nucleus of the large collection he afterwards amassed. He Avas pretty rich in Enfjlish history, biography, criticism, poetry, and essays of the Rambler and Spectator kind ; in the Latin and Greek classics ; and in the learned helps in classical and philological study, and in the principal modern languages ; he had enough in Arabic, but was poor in his darling tongue, the Persian. What he lacked he could mostly find in his father's library, or at the seminary, or at the college, or with his brother James (Avho was devoted to books), or in the hands of Mr. Hodge, Mr. Hall or some other iriend. He was not much addicted to the habit of borrowing, and what he borrowed he invariably returned. A new poem from Lord Byron, or a new story by " the great unknown," would excite his interest as it Avould that of every cultivated reader of English ; but he became still more enthusiastically interested if he found (as he once did) an Arabic manuscript or got wind of a new Arabic and Persian dictionary.* The soft light of his candles fell upon characters of the most uncouth description, and upon walls already bur- dened with folios and odd-looking grammars and lexicons. Yet the bow was not always bent. He had his own peculiar pas- times. He would revel in the romantic poems of Spenser and Tasso and Ariost'o and in the wonderful chapters of the Avon- derful book of Cervantes ; and the boys and girls were nearly always welcome, whether for a romp or story. During the month of October, he read in Hebrew a hun- dred and seventeen Psalms, and thirteen chapters in the book of Proverbs ; in French, all the comedies of Moliere ; in Italian, the whole of the Decameron of Boccacio ; in * He obtaLaed access to Ricliardsou. ^T.19.1 BEGINS CHINESE. 158 English, the Paradise Lost and the first vohime of Chitty on Special Pleading ; in German, Paith, Esther and Jonah ; and in Arabic, all the historical passages of the Koran. . The months of ISTovember and December were occupied in the study of the same subjects, with this addition— the com- mencement of the study of Chinese; as appears from his note under Dec. 12.— "Learned the first six of the two hundred and fourteen keys ; to wit, those formed by a single stroke." Whether he continued this study is not here recorded. He took it up again at a much later period, and prosecuted it far enough to understand the structure and genius of the written language. One of the volumes in which he kept his first diary in Europe is marked with very many of the Chinese* word signs. I now give his review of the past year : "In reviewing the memoranda of ray studies during ihe year 1828 contained in this book, the first circumstance which strikes my attention is that they are almost exchisively philological. They have, perhaps, been too much so; but I do not regret it for two reasons :—l. My taste is, at present, strongly inclined toward philological pursuits ; if I were to postpone the indulgence of it, it would perhaps change its direction, and leave me unwilling, and therefore unable to pursue philology even so far as would be necessary. 2. Languages are the keys to science, philosophy, literature, history, &c. &c., and should bo mastered early. The languages to which I have attended during the past year are— Hebrew, Arabic, Persian, French, Italian, Spanish and German."! " 1. Hebrews I have, since the 1st of January, 1828, read the whole of the Old Testament in the original, with the exception of the book of Genesis and eighteen chapters in Exodus, which I had read in 1827.t In the perusal of the Hebrew Bible, I have not been very strict or sys- tematic. I have freely used the English translation as an auxiliary, and have seldom resorted to the grammar. I find, however, that I * The reader will remember that it was this language which threw Mezzo- fanti into the brain fever, that caused him for a time to forget all his tongues. f He for some reason omits to catalogue Syriac and Latin. X This seems to confirm my judgment as to the true date of the letter to his brother respecting the " Tears of Esau," etc. See above. 160 RETROSPECT OF THE YEAR. [1823. Lave insensibly acquired that sort (not degree) of familiarity with the language which we get of our own tongue by colloquial practice. I cannot run tlirough the paradigm of any one verb perhaps, correclly ; but I recognize the individual inflexions when I meet with them, and find little difficulty in translating simple sentences from the English into Hebrew. But although this mode of acquiring the knowledge of a language is the most agreeable, and perhaps the best foundation fol subsequent improvement, I feel that it is not, in itself, sufficient. I therefore intend to accompany my second reading of the Bible (which I expect to commence to-morrow) with an attentive study of Hebrew grammar ; always excepting the accentual system, which I design to leave untouched. I also design to adopt the practice of waiting He- brew exercises ; which practice I have found exceedingly improving in French and other languages. I am surprised that this is neglected by Hebrew students, since the exactness of our English version furnishes tlie greatest facility for doing it with pleasure and success. [In a note to this, dated Dec. 31, 1832, he says :— " I afterwards changed my opinion on this subject, and my mode of study too."]* " 2. Arabic, In Arabic I have read during the past year, the last ninety-six Suras of the Koran ; one or two articles in De Sacy's Arabic Chrestomathy, and the Gospel of Matthew as contained in Walton's Polyglot. The early age at which I commenced the study of this language (nine or ten), and the almost constant attention which I have given to it since, have made me perhaps as familiar with its genius and construction as those of any other I ever studied. It i>, however, verydifficu't as to its grammatical forms and rules, while its vocabulary is like an ocean. I wish to pursue it further. I have lately copied out of the Koran all the historical passages upon which I intend to write explanatory notes, and add a glossary and compendious grammar. The exercise will be useful to myself and may enable me to afford assistance to others. " 3. Persian. In Persian I have read, during the past year, the Gospels of John and Matthew contained in Walton's Polyglot ; about fifteen tales in the Tooti Nameh, or Tales of a Parrot, and sundry parts of the Gulistan of Sadi. Of this charming language I am passionately fond ; and nothing but the want of proper and necessary books pre- vents my pursuing it extensively. I have Avritten for one or two, but have heard nothing yet respecting them. * This probably refers to the scheme as a whole. He never undervalued the importance of writing every language that is to be really learned. iET.19.] MEMORANDA OF DR. RICE. 161 "4. French, I have been accustomed from my inf.mcy to read French books without a dictionarj', and, hke most persons who bav« any previous acquaintance with the Latin, found liitle difficulty ic catching the general idea, in ordinary cases. As I felt, however, that I was acquiring a pernicioi'.s Jiabit of superficial study, and had variong reasons for desiring an accurate knowledge of tlje language, I began in January the study of the grammatical forms and rules, which I mas- tered without difficulty; and have since read — Le Telemaque de Fene- lon ; six tragedies and une comedie de Oorneille ; Toutes les comedies de Moliere; Le Siecle de Louis XIV. ; Le Petit Careme de Massilhrn ; and various detached articles in different books. Since Dec. 1st, I have also taken lessons from M. Louis Hargous of Trenton, a Frenchman, educated for a priest, but now a teacher of French and Spanish. I am already sensible of the advantages arising from the instructions of a living teacher, and in^^nd to continue my attendance upon him, in con- junction with my private reading of the best authors."* It is unnecessary to make further selection, as the rest of this retrospect consists merely of the names of the books he read in Italian, Spanish, German, English, Greek and Latin, which have already been inscribed on these pages. An admirable view of what Mr. Alexander was at this period of his private and social relations, may be obtained from the following extract from a letter of the Rev. John H. Rice, D. D., of Mobile : "I saw Addison Alexander for the first time in July 1S28. I was then just ten years old. I had come on from Petersburg, Virginia, in order to go to school at Amherst, Massachusetts. My father, mother and elder sister accompanied me. We came to Princeton by stage- coach from Trenton, and stopped at Dr. Alexander's, where we s;.ent several weeks. I think it was the evening of the day of our arriviil, that I met Addison on the back porch of his fiither's house. I can recall his appearance as vividly as though it were yesterday. He was unusually fleshy, as he continued to be until a short time before his lamented death, and wore at that time the glasses which continued to be a necessity for him during his whole life. I was told that he iiad lately graduated at Princeton College, though at the time I did not * Mr. Alexander thought a great deal of Mr. Hargous, and they were much together ; as his diaries attest. 162 OLD BLACK AND PETER AllUN. 11828. know wliat that meant. He was tlieu the same shy, diffident, retiring person that he was in after life. He seemed averse to going into the house, whei-e his strange uncle and aunt were ; but I, being a boy, was running about tlie house everywhere with the boys who were a little younger than myself. Upon going out upon the back porch I found Addison tliere. He greeted me cordially, and very soon began to tease me about Virginia, my provincial dialect, and the enormous use of calo- mel which he affected to beheve was the chief article of tlie diet of the eastern Yirginians. I had heard that ho was a great student and very learned, and at first was a little afraid of one who was then regarded as a prodigy. You know how fond he was of children, and with what won- derful skill he would entertain them for hours when he had the requi- site leisure. I had been but a day or two at Dr. Alexander's, when I felt as familiar with Addison as thougli he had been a boy of my own age." [He was a few months past nineteen.] ."He yery soon, I be- lieve it was the second or third evening after my arrival, began to tell me his celebrated story of ' Old Black,' which every child who ever enjoyed his intimacy wih remember. It kept us all in a continuous roar of laughter, so tluxt I often rolled over the floor of the room be- yond all power of self-restraint ; which seemed to afford him a great deal of quiet amusement. This story of ' Old Black,' which consisted of a series of ludicrous mistakes and blunders of an old serving woman, he evidently improvised, inventing the incidents as he related them. These alternated with a similar story of a serving man, whom he called ' Peter Arnn.' He also took occasion of our intercourse to impart in the pleasantest way a great amount of valuable information, some of which I retain to this day. Before I left Princeton he presented me with my Life, printed with the pen in a number of small volumes neatly stitched and bound in blue covers. It was written with all the for- mality and seriousness of an actual biography. These I kept with great care until they were literally worn out. You know how chil- dren always loved him. So I became devotedly attached to him during the few delightful weeks that I spent at Princeton in the summer of 1828, weeks made delightful chiefly by his wonderful skill in entertammg children. I left Princeton for Amherst, Mass., in September. Soon after I received a letter from Addison written on folio post paper, giving me a plavful account of everything that had taken place in Princeton since my departure. He continued to write these large letters to me, at in- tervals, during the four years that I remained at Amherst. Among them were several which seemed to me then to-be the most wonderful productions of humnn genius. And I confess that they still appear very ^T. 19.] THEIR CIIAUACTERISTICS. 163 extraordinary. They were written in the form of poetry or verse ; and being read entirely across the page, were in verse of one measure and one sense, but being read half-way across, made poetry of another measure and the opposite sense. "With him such a performance re* quired no labour, it was dashed off with greater ease than I can scribble these recollections. I kept all these letters with affectionate care, but in the hxpse of time and my many interruptions, they have disappeared. They would be worth to me now more than their weight in gold. They were all written on the largest sized folio post paper." The above sketch presents a true picture of Mr. Alexander as he appeared to me when I was a boy ; though as has ah-eady been said, he never appeared to any two persons in precisely the same way. There was doubtless, too, a greater efferves- cence of youthful spirits at the lime referred to by Dr. Rice than at any time within my own recollection. The story of " Old Black" has been graven upon my memory v.'ith a pen of iron. I have heard it in one or other of its innumerable variations a hundred times. It is given in full, in one of its forms, in " Wis- tar's Magazine ; " which was the most elaborate and curious of all the works he prepared for children. The story of " Peter Arun " was of a somewhat higher grade, and passed through full as many transformations. Old Black bore a shadowy resemblance to Mrs. Malaprop, and the whole thing was in a style of broad farce. As printed wath the pen, it is given in the form of a dialogue between Old Black and Mrs. Bald. The two characters are as distinctly drawn as those of Dickens or Fielding, and are natural and unexaggerated like those of Goldsmith. The characteristic of Peter Arun was shrewd mother wit combined with a sort of hilarious insouciance, which ventured to the most reckless lengths, yet without a particle of fear, without real malice, with imperturbable sang-froid, and with no serious ill consequences. Seldom was a character better sustained or managed with more adroitness or humour. Peter's repartee is as poignant as it is endless. The " Wistar's Magazine " contains the corre- spondence between Mr, Arun and a gentleman whom he had wilfully but in perfect good humour offended, and whom he 164 JOHNSON, CROW, LANE. liad provoked to a challenge. It is a ridiculous builesquc on the duello aiKl the code of honour, and in point of nch, intel- lectual, mirtlifulness deserves a comparison with some of the best parts of " Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme." Another of his famous stories was " Linn Lane," and still another, '• Wick- liffe, Johnson, Crow, and Lane." These were delivered orally and were indefinitely varied to suit the character of the cir- cumstances and of the auditors. They were chief favourites with the younger children, and have seldom if ever been sur- passed by the most renowned caterers for the little boys and girls. They were as original and showed genius as plainly and decidedly as his lectures in the seminary. Linn Lane was sometimes introduced alone: sometimes in company with W. J. and C. He had a voice that still rings in my ears, and that was as inimitably peculiar and laughable as some of the cries of the parrot. Sometimes it was Linn Lane among the Indians : sometimes it was Linn Lane at school : sometimes it was the incorrigible little wag and mischief-maker following and with his comrades mocking the unfortunate Wicklitfe, who had a squeaking voice. When the bass tones of Johnson were mingled Avith the bland tenor of Crow, the shrill pipe of poor Wickliffe, and the forever indescribable quavering out- cry of Lane, all uttering the same words, and all but one of the performers uttering them in the way of gibe and mockery ; the effect was sometimes perfectly irresistible. It was often a wild burst of laughter, a chorus of shouts, and a series of de- lighted childish questions. The result was in part a triumph of ventriloquism, or at least of histrionic mimicry, in which the face and throat were changed to meet every emergency. Sometimes the raconteur would laugh himself in a quick un- controllable way, as if the tun of the thing had just struck him for the first time. More commonly, however, he was per- fectly grave, and only showed his interest in what was going on by the anhnation with which he told his tale. The year 1829 was entered upon with the same studies which occupied his mind during the preceding. Particular attention was paid to the Greek. We shall still find him ^T.19.] READING FOR THE DAY. 165 going to foundation principles ; mastering all the grammars he can lay his hands upon, and reading critically all the best Greek authors. He also acquired the modern Greek. Specimens of the diary, showing the way in which he spent his time at this period, may not be considered out of place here, and will be read without weariness by a large class of book-lovers, and students of strange biography. "Jan. 14. After brenkfast went to consult Prof. Hodge about a proofsbeet of tbe Repertory, and remained there in conversation till 11: then returned and read the twenty-first chapter of Genesis in Hebrew ; then read a review of Gieseler's Kirch engeschichte in tbe Stndien und Kritiken of Hamburg, written by himself; then removed my book-case and a number of my looks from my chamber above stairs to the dining-room below ; then read the general catalogue of the Seminary just published, and looked at the National Gazette of yesterday ; then glanced at the British Critic for July 1828— particu- larly at the account of the proceedings of the two Universities ; then glanced at Ewald's book on Arabic Prosody ; then read the preface to Rosenmilller's Arabic grammar ; then wrote an abstract of Gieseler's article aforesaid, to be inserted in the Repertory ; then read the 27th cliapter of Isaiah in Hebrew ; then read a part of chapter five in Df Sacy's Arabic grammar ; comparing it with Rosenmtiller's, which appears to be a translation of De Sacy; then read the 28th chapter of Isaiah ; then wrote a foolscap-sheet of French exercises ; and then — to bed." Another specimen is from the journal of the next day : "Jan. 15. Read a pait of the 29th chapter of Isaiah in Hebrew; the 4th chapter of Louis XV. ; the 4th chapter of the 2d section of Condillac's Essai sur les Connais'sances humaines, in French, and the 12th chapter of Don Quixote in Spanish ; then wrote the 6th and Yth exercises in Josse's Spanish grammar; then read about a hundred lines in the Clouds of Aristophanes ; then read about the same number in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales ; then went to the Philological Hall, to attend a meeting of the Board of Criticism of the Philological Society, and received from the Pres'dent an anorymous translation of Horace's Book 1., ode 22, to criticise. Read in the Hall the 14th canto of Dante's ' Inferno,' and finished the article on Arabian Literature in the Foreign Quarterly Review ; returned home and examined tho 166 ARISTOPHANES AND SHAKESPEARE. [1S29. anonymous translation aforesaid, notinjT down some observations on tlie same ; then read a review of Ilase's Dogmatik and Gnosis in tlie Thcologisclie Studien ; then read the remainder of Isaiah 29 in Ilebrew ; then read De Sacy's Arabic grammar ; then read Shak- speare ; then read Genesis 22, 28, in Hebrew ; then wrote a sheet of French exercises — and to bed." I find, under dale of Feb. 10, 1829, in a detached fragment, in tlie sliape of a little manuscript book, in Mr, Alexander's early hand, the following critique upon the two dramatists mentioned above : "I have finished the famous Clouds of Aristophanes, but can scarce!}' say what my feelings and opinions are as I close the book. Such a combination of extremes, intellectual and moral, I have never before known. Such transitions from earth to heaven, from Parnassus to the dunghill, are to me new and startling. Shakespeare is unequal, but his inequalities are nothing to the fits and starts of Aristophanes. The English poet never dives so deep into pollution, nor rises, in point of artificial elegance, so high as the Athenian. Shakespeare's genius is obviously nntutored. His excellences and his faults are perhaps equal- ly attributable to his want of education. It is altogether probable that many of these original and most significant and poetic modes of expres- sion which he has introduced into our language, arose entirely from his ignorance of grammar and of foreign tongues. Had he been fa- miliar with technical distinctions and etymological analogies, his thoughts would have been distracted between words and tJiings. The dread of committing solecisms, and the ambition to exhibit that sort of elegance which results from the formal rules of an artificial riictoric, would have cooled his ardour. His 'muse (if fire ' would never Iiavc reached ' the heaven of invention,' but would have stayed its flight amidst the clouds and mists of puerile conceit. I never read any of Shakespeare's real poetry (for much of his verse is most bald prosing) without feeling, in my very soul, that no man could write thus, whose heart was fixed on propriety of diction, as a principal or even a second- ary object. He seems to have let his imagination boil, and actually to have taken the first wcu-ds which bubbled up from its ebullition. Hence his strange revolt from authority in the use of ordinary words [in senses] as far removed from common practice as from etymology. And that reminds me of another circumstance. In the common blank verso of his dialogue, not only is he habitually careless, but seems not ^T.19.] ARISTOPHANES AND SHAKESPEARE. 167 to know (in many cases) the method of constructing a harmonious verse ; and perhaps his broken measure is' more dramatic than one smoother would be; certainly more so than the intolerable tintinnabulum of the Theatre Fran§ais. But let him rise into one of his grand flights, and his numbers are as musical as the 'harp of Orpbeus.' I defy any man to bring forward any specimen of heroic blank verse, where the rhythm is as melodious as in some passages of Shakespeare, and the sense at the same time within sight — I mean comparably good in any degree. Milton, you say, &c. But who can read the Paradise Lost without think- ing of the square and compass? Even when we admire, we admire scientifically — we applaud the arrangement of the cEesuras and pauses, and are forever thinking of iambuses and trochees and hypercatalectics, and all the hard words that Milton himself would have dealt forth in lecturing upon his own versification. AVhereas, I do verily believe, that Shakespeare knew no more of Prosody, tlian of Animal Magnet- ism or Phrenology. Thompson, again, is among our finest specimens of rich and musical blank verse, but Thompson is laboured too ; not in Milton's way, by weight and measure, but in a way no less artificial and discernible. He is always labouring to make his lines flow with a luscious sweetness : Every body knows that he succeeds, but every body, alas, knows how. He does it by presenting words in profusion, which are at once dulcet to the ear and exciting to the imagination. The method is the only true one, but he carries it too far. One strong proof that Shakespeare was a genius and a unique one, is that his ex- cellence is not sustained and equal. Moonlight and candlelight shed a uniform lustre, but who ever saw or heard of a continuous flash of lightning? Our bard trifles and proses and quibbles, and whines (but always without affectation) till something (whether accident or not I cannot tell) strikes a spark into his combustible imagination, and straightway, he is in a blaze. I think a good rocket is a capital illus- tration of his muse of fire. First we have a premonitory whiz — then a delicate but gorgeous column of brilliant scintillations, stretching away into the bosom of heaven and at last dying away in a shower of mimic stars and comets of tenfold — of transcendent brightness. "What then ? "Why then comes darkness visible, or at best a beggarly gray twilight. But in talking thus to myself, I forget what I am about. I began Avith Aristophanes, and have been raving about Shakespeare. All I have to say, however, about the former, is, that he is a perfect contrast to the Englishman. He is evidently a master of the art of versifying, but he knows how to temper the formality of systematic elegance with the charm of native poetry. Compared with the Greek tragedians, his 168 ENGLISH METAPHYSICS. C1829. flights of clioral and lyrical inspiration appear to great advantage. More colierent and intelligible than ^schylus, more vigorous and nervous and significant than Suphocles, more natural and spirited than Euri- pides; he notwithstanding excels them all in the music of his numbers, and the Attic purity and terseness of his diction." No one cau pursue these records far Avithout acknowledg- iug the astonishing industry and versatility of the stripling scholar. And then the effrontery with which he marches up to a new language with w^hich perhaps iew of his seniors are at all acquainted, is fairly startling. Plis taste in letters, too, is peculiar certainly, but also at once robust and refined. "Feb. 17. — The historical style of the Arabs is very curious. It varies indeed, in different cases. Some of their histories are florid, inflated, and verbose. Others, and, I suspect, the great majority, are hasty, confused and crude enumerations of heterogeneous facts. I was amused in looking over some of the historical facts in De Sacy, to observe the exquisite taste exhibited in the arrangement and enumera- tion, of events ; e. g. Makrizi says, speaking of Hakem, the Imaum of the Fatemists, 'He commanded that all dogs should be killed, in con- sequence of which a multitude were put to death. He founded a col- lege called the " House of Wisdom," to which he transferred the royal library. He was very cruel to his running footmen ; and a number of them he put to death.' "What a circumflective climax, pour ainsi dire ? Dead dogs — colleges — libraries — running footmen ! " His notions ahout tlie literature of English metaphysics are fresh and unusual, but not ignorant. "Read the 5th and 6th chapters of Brown's Lectures on the philoso- phy of the human mind. The first four I read last summer, and was then disgusted with the book. I know the reason ; for reading Stew- art's Philosophy just before, I had been drawn off from that elegant writer's statements to his style, which, in my opinion, merits well to be regarded as a model of purity, elegance, and perspicuity. When I took up Brown, I judged him rather rhetorically than philosophically ; and finding his sentences (though full of meaning) to be long, involved, sometimes obscure, and often awkward, I grew tired of him. On this second trial I view him with other eyes. I can recognize at once, the fire of genius and strength of intellect. I should imagine that the ^T.19.] BROWN'S LECTURES. 169 lectures were posthumous, and published as he pronounced them. A ^'ood delivery might have made them captivating, and perhaps they were so.* On paper they are not so well, in point of style. There are too many parenthetical expressions, and some excessively intelligibU explanations of his meaning, which, however useful and necessary in the lecture-room, or when orally delivered, the author's task would have curtailed in revising for the press. As to matter, though met- aphysics is a terra incognita to me, I can readily perceive he shows power and skill in drawing nice but strong distinctions and detecting latent fallacies." The next day he writes thus of Brown : " He is a wonderful man, it must be owned. For length of sen- tences and fulness of illustration— rather, of explanation— he is remark- able. He holds up an idea in all imaginable points of view, and never seems satisfied till he has exhausted all explanatory ideas and ex- jiressions. But he never loses nor forgets himself; and, what above all pleases me, he never cants, i. e. he never uses phrases just because other philosophers have used them, though they may mean any thing or nothing quoad hoc. As to his doctrine of Cause and Effect, it sounds well and seems true ; but I am not satisfied. He seems to deny, though not directly, that we can conceive of anj j^oicer or causation, except immediate invariable antecedence. Now I certainly can con- ceive of a power wliich has never yet been exercised, and which, per- haps, never will be. " I adraii-e Brown's ease and vivacity, especially as it exists in com- bination with so much depth and penetration. There is no scholastic stiffness, nor repulsive technicality about the annunciation of his most important doctrines. And what other metaphysician since the world began would have quoted Gulliver and Martinus Scriblerus? This marks the man of taste, judgment, and independent spirit. An inferior writer would have been afraid of lowering his subject by citing such authorities. The true philospher takes a just idea of a striking illustra- tion, even from the mouth of a buffoon." I find him next engaged with Dante. About the middle * Everybody is of course familiar now with the enthusiasm they awakened at the time, and with the fact that they were commonly dashed off iu a heat, the night before. « 170 DANTE AND SPENSER. of Februai-y he was occupied reading the Purgatorio, Here are some of his remarks in the Avay of comment : "Feb. 19.— This part of the Divina Commedia begins with a met- aphor in which the poem is represented as a ship and the subject as the sea upon which it sails. I felt a good deal relieved on finding that he calls the argument of this second part miglior acqua in comparison with the preceding one. I feel now more than I did when actually reading the Inferno, that the poetry of Dante, like all truly original composition, produces an criginal^-l mean, peculiar and unique impres- sion on the mind. His conceptions of Hell, revolting as some of them appeared (I mean poetically revolting to the taste and judgment) have left their traces on my memory and fancy more strongly than the refined but less substantial and tangible creations of Milton's genius. The Purgatorio opens where the Inferno ended, at the exit of the poet from the infernal regions. I must confess that I have no precise idea respecting the locality of the aperture ; though Dante described it, or intended to describe it, with becoming accuracy. For, of all poets, past and present, he is the most trigonometrical that I have ever met with." To show still further his versatility, I give another record made on the same day : "Eead the 4th Canto of the Faery Queen. I cannot but admire, more and more, Spenser's wonderful descriptive talent. His pictures of the six passions, in this canto, e^eed in vividness and truth any descrijition that I have ever read, without exception. I begin now to suspect that Spenser's forte was in describing loathsome objects, and he certainly does it with a master hand. I feel his excellence the more on comparison with Dante. I may, through ignorance, do the Italian bard injustice, but it does appear to me that he was deficient in a talent which Spenser possesses in a singular degree— the talent for discrim- inating and appropriate description. How striking is the adaptation of the six beasts to the character of their respective riders themselves. A few characteristic traits and circumstances are selected as the prom- inent features of each portrait, and are exhibited in strong relief, with- out the aid of vague generalities and cant terms. I can actually see Sloth 'still drowned in sleep and most of his days dead,' nodding along upon his ass ;— Gluttony, sweating and vomiting upon his swine;— Lechery, suffering the reproachful pain of that foul evil, ' that rots ^T. 19.] SCOTT'S NAPOLEON. H^ tlie marrow and consumes the brain ; '—Avarice, counting o'er liia pelf; and, above all, Envy, with a snake in his bosom and a toad be- tween his teeth, 'the poison running all about bis jaw,' weeping that cause of weeping one he had ; but when he hears of harm, waxing wondrous glad. I forgot Anger. That picture too is very fine, esne- cially the redeeming and afflictive circumstance thrown into the de- scription. The poet goes as far as nature goes and no further. He does not unite a fierce and irritable, with a culd-blooded and deliberate malignity (traits seldom, if ever, actually found in combination), but with exquisite truth and knowledge of the heart, after telhng us that 'of his hands he had no government, ne cared for blood in his avenge- ment,' adds, that ' when the furious fit was overpast, his cruel facts he often would repent.' " "Feb. 20. Read Isaiah 54, and Genesis 43 in Hebrew. At the Philological Hall, read the 3d and 4th cantos of Pur;:atorio ; also ex- amined Kennicott's Hebrew Bible and Wetstein's Greek Testament. I wish they were both upon my table. [The books fmm this library could not be taken away.] The foi-mer is a noble work. After read- ing the Hebrew Bible with the points, I find it much more agreeable to read without tiiem. In the historical parts I can supply most of the points which affect the etymology, and the whole seems much more neat and simple without such a multiplicity of marks. " At home again ; wrote the 25tli exercise in Josse's Spanisli gram- mar. Finished the 2d chapter of Levizac's Grammaire Francaise. Read the first chapter of Voltaire's Histoire de I'Empire de Russie sous Pierre le Grand. Fini.-hed the 2.1 chapter of Home. Finished the extracts from the books of the Druses. Read the 33d chapter of Scott's Napoleon. Notwithstanding the literary faultiness of this book, there is much that is valuable in it. The nature of the subject makes it inti resting, malgre lui, and the good sense and acute observa- tion of the author, make it frequently instructive. His reflections, l)articularly those derived incidentally from individual facts, are often worthy vi preservation. No attributes can contribute more lo the pop- ularity of a new government than an appearance of conscious strength combined with clemency ; since the spirit of opposition, despairing of success but not of personal safety, gradually sinks into acquiescence. As a specimen of style, it does Walter Scott no honour. His phrase- ology is often rendered vulgar by excessive straining after classical simplicity and colloquial ease. He is sometimes ungra'nmatioal and frequently inelegant. But nothing disgusts me more, than the frequency and stiff'ness of his similes and illustrations, which, however well they 172 SCOTT's style. H82i). migM appear in an epic poem, or even in a higher species of romance, are too recherche and affected for a work like this. In a word, they are too good. I observe, too, a disposition similar to that of Brown, to borrow illustration from works of burlesque humour. But oh, how far different the modus operandi ! There is no work of a historical description, which exhibits such a multitude of striking, ingenious, but unreasonable ilhi strati on s, as this of Scott's-alvvays excepting Tom Moore's Life of Sheridan, which may be regarded a^ a perfect model of the far-fetched, pretty style, and John Q. Adams's Ebony and Topaz toast, which, sonorous as it was, is a sealed book, I believe, even unto this day. My impression, on the whole, is that Scott wrote mainly m the liope of I'eward ; which accounts for the crudeness and rudeness of the composition; unwisely availing himself, however, of the oppor- tunity to surfeit the public with a profusion of good snyings, which if retained in his commonplace book might have eked out a thousand dialogues in a hundred new Waverleys to come." " Feb. 23. Read ten sections in the first book of ' Cicero's Aca- demical Questions.'-My dabblings in the modern and oriental langua- ges must have vitiated my tnste most lamentably ; for I protest that This Ciceronian Latin is to my eyes, C'lrs and understanding the most lumbering, clumsy, formal style imaginable. Every thing seems elabor- ate and artificial ; the terms and expressions that are meant to be most colloquial and familiar, are so studied and distorted, and the inversions are so wilful, wanton, and grotesque, that I have no patience with the thing at all. How is it, and why is it that the Latin verse of Virgil, and especially of Horace, is much more natural and easy, and consequently so much nearer the language of common life, than the Latin prose of Cicero? Why, because neither Horace nor Virgil was a conceited, affected, pedantic, pompous, egotistical, verbose, jack-of- all-trades." He had now become sufficiently familiar witli the Hebrew to be able to distinguish and appreciate the styles of the dif- ferent Bible writers. His observations on this head will be found to possess a fascinating and even popular interest : « March 4. Read in Hebrew the 3d chapters of Exodus and Jere- miah. I can now perceive distinctly the diversity of style in the Hebrew Scriptures. Isaiah and Jeremiah are as unlike as any two classical or modern poets. The genius of the former is characterized by vigour, elevation and impetuosity. He deals much in animated ex- Mr. mi PERSIAN NEW TESTAMENT. 173 hortation and severe invective. Jeremiah on the other hand is calmer and more equable. There seems to be a vein of raelanchnlj running through his composition. One thing is common to them both, as it is indeed to all oriental writers ; a figurative mode of expression. Even in this, however, they are diiierent. Isaiah's metaphors are lively and animated ; tliose of Jeremiah more subdued : both are graphic and im- pressive. I prefer the Pentateuch to any other bool^, as a genuine specimen of primitive, unsophisticated simplicity of style. There ia nothing puerile on the one hand, nor inflated on the other. Tlie exodus of the Israelites from Egypt is one of the finest subjects in the world for an epic poem." "April 18. Read in Hebrew, Exodus and Jeremiah xxxv. Looked through Jorton's Life of Erasmus. — Rezeau Brown* returned to-day from New Haven, after an absence of ten days. He brings as curiosi- ties two Arabic letters written in Syria, and brought over by Mr. Brewer as waste paper. They are apparently addressed to a Mv. Bird. I am surprised to find the hand so much like my own. With a little practice, and a good pen, I could equal it — I think. He has also brought Henry Martyn's Persian Testament, borrowed from Professor Gibbs of Yale. I have long wished to see tliis book, and am delighted to obtain it. I have no printed Persian books, and should prefer a version of the Bible ; because with my familiarity with its contents, and, in some measure, with the original, I can gather more instruction from it than from any other book. The Polyglots, it is true, contain Persian ver- sions ; but their purity and correctness, are, to say the least, equivocal. Now Martyn's version has been made within the last twenty years, and in circumstances Avhich afford good ground for the presumption that it is a good one. 1st. Martyn was a man of genius and a scholar ; an upright man and devoted to his work. 2d. He had previously fin- ished a version with great labour which was thought too Arabic (liis assistant having been an Arab) whereupon he instantly resolved to re- commence the task. From this circumstance I infer, 1st, that his whole soul was in the thing, which ensures fidelity and accui*acy ; 2d, that although his first translation was imperfect, it must have qualified him for the second, in a very great degree ; 3d, this version was pre- pared fit Shiraz which has been called 'the Athens of Persia,' where the purest Persian is spoken, — and with the ass'stance of an intelligent, refined and educated native ; 4th, it was read before the Shah, who signified his approbation of its execution. It has also been approved * His bosom friend, of whom ■we shall know more presently. 1*74 GREEK WRITERS. [1820. by many of tlio Persian literati. The first edition of this translation -was printed at St. Petersburg, soon after Martyn's death. This im- pression, I have se?n it somewhere mentioned, abounded in errors of the press which rendered it not only i)artly unintelligible, but in some cases even blasphemons. Even this edition I should have been pleased to see, though it would not have answered all my ends. I am pleased to find, however, that the one before me is a Calcutta edition of later date. Persian literature is so zealously and thoroughly pursued at the metropolis of British India, and the latter has given to the world so many valuable impressions of oriental works, that I feel little doubt that this book, though by no means elegant, is perR-ctly correct. It is an octavo of 741 pages, with the following title-page in English : 'The New Testament of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ ; Translited from the original Greek into Persian, at Siiiraz, by the Kev. Henry Martyn, A. B. Late Fellow of St. John's College, and chaplain on the Bengal Establishment ; with the assistance of Meerza Sueyed Uiee (Mirza Seid All) of Sheeraz, Calcutta: Printed by P. Pereira, at tlie Ilindoostanee Press for the British and Foreign Bible Society in the year 1816.' The leaves arc uncut, and Prof. Gibbs did not recollect tliat the book was in his library. It is probably the only copy in America." The continuation of the jonrnal will afford the reader an agreeable change of topics. The extraordinary character of these youthful records must acquit them of the charge of monotony. "April 27. Tills is my Greek week ; and I have begnn to-day at the foundation, reviewing Moore's grammar through and through, and reading A^alpy's Delectus Sententiarum Grajcarum, an excellent book for beginners. It is not only perfectly intelligible, but contains a chosen selection of golden sentences. Some of the sayings of the old philosophers are wonderfully striking. As I extend my acquaintance with the classic writers I am surprised to find so much acuteness and Avit, as well as wisdom, in their sayings. "We are apt (I mean the igno- rant and partially informed) to think them admirable only by com- pjirison — a sort of silly naivete ns their chief characteristic ; at least this has been my own case. When I think of the Greek writers whom I have not read, I think of them— but no matter, I am every day more and more disabused. The little book above mentioned I have read through to-day." " April 29. I have finished to-day the fifty chapters of Neilson'a ^T.20.] LETTER FROM HIS BROTHER. l75 Greek Exercises, and am sensible of Laving derived great benefit from the perusal. The Latin sentences I have passed over, as also tl^e sup- plemental exercises on the dialects and poetry, because I intend, at present, to confine myself to -prose and to Attic prose. I shall take up the book again hereafter and go through with it. I have also revised again to-day, Moore's rules for the formation of the tenses. I am more and more convinced, every day, that this grammar is the best for ele- mentary instruction that was ever written. It does not twaddle like the German books, about the original forms and progressive changes of the etymology, but gives rules for deducing the parts of the language as they are." " May 4. Eead in Greek about five hundred lines in the first book of the Oyropfedia. My object is to recover and extend my acquaintance with the forms of tlie Greek Grammar. For tbis purpose I run over the tenses of every verb on its first appearance, and often afterwards. This requires a frequent recurrence to the lexicon." About tbis time be received tbe following letter from bis brotber James. Tbe date on tbe outside is May 5. His brother sends bim Botta,* and bad previously sent tbe Greek Prayer-Book concerning wbicb we sball presently find bim writing to Mr. Hall. Tbe letter contains so many allusions tbat it would be bard to sum tbem up in a sentence. "Hoping tbat William will call again I venture upon a few lines. I send you Botta, which will be exactly in place after Scott. [Scott's Napoleon which lie was reading]. I think you will admire it, especially as it is not marred by the absurdity of fabricated speeches. The Greek prayer-book I also sent. I imagine it is made for the Greek Catholics of the islands near Venice. See Carter's travels. Also, a letter of John Hall's wbich contains some notices which may interest you. John is an excellent correspondent in all such, matters. He spares no pains in answering every question I send him, even wben he has to turn over whole volumes in the library. As to the Eeview, all I know is this : Walsh called at Littell's and said that he thought the whole edition would sell, and that a very favourable review of it would be in the next American Quarterly Eeview. I very highly approve of your devo- tion to the Greek, and of your ardour in the pursuit, as well as the mode of critical study which you have adopted. You would probably find all * I presume, his "Floria d'ltalia," etc. 1Y6 SCOTT" S NAPOLEON. a829. Xenophon's works interesting, and then might be prepared to under- take Plato. ' Das pou sto ' is attributed to Archimedes, as ' Richard ia himself,'—' So much for Buckingham,' are to Shakspeare, and ' a sweet morsel under the tongue,' is to the Bible, ^ho invented the sayings I bno-w not. I have found the origin of Byron's ' hell of waters,' the ex- pression which he applies to the cascade of Yellino (Childe Harold, iv., 69). "When the German poet Lenz visited the cataract of the Rhine at Schaffhausen, he smote his thigh, (a classical gesture as per Homer,) and cried ' Hier ist wasser-holle.' Stolberg's Travels, I., 85. Next to Mitford's Greece will stand Halsey on antediluviani^m, for chasteness and harmony of language. I have sent for an Italian Les-Buch on the Hamiltonian plan, this being the nearest approach I can make to a liv- ing teacher ; thus I hope to learn the vexatious niceties which puzzle one so much in a new language." I again resume my extracts from the journal : " May 6. Read in Hebrew, Numbers 1, and Ezekiel 13.— Read in Greek and Persian, Matt. 16. Finished the first book of the KCpov- rratSeU, and read the whole over. Finished the second volume of Scott's Life of Bonaparte. On page 18 there are two attempts at illustrative allusion, so to speak, which is his favourite method in this work. One of these is pretty good ; it is about vengeance and dragon's teeth. The other is horrible; it is in these words: ' Every obligation according to the making of the civil law, is made void in the same manner in which it is made binding ; as ArtJiegal, the emhUmatic champion of jtistice ill S2}enser''s allegory, decrees as law, that what the sea has brought the sea may resume.' I can scarcely believe that a man of taste and genius could be guilty of such absurdity. Appealing to a character in an allegorical poem for proof of a maxim in law, and that, not in the way of a direct quotation, but with all the formality of a pleader citing an adjudged case. Here is a match for it : ' Every thing projected from the earth will, by the law of gravitation return to it again ' ; as the little ragged boy who cleans my boots says, when he plays sly-high, 'What goes up must come down ; let every man take care of his crown ! ' " " May 14. Read the 8th and last book of the Cyropsedia. I have read this book with great satisfaction. My principal object has been to recover and extend my knowledge of the Greek etymology, but my interest in the subject and admiration of the style diverted my atten- tion in a great degree from mere grammatical forms. Xenophon is one of those writers whose personal character seems to be exhibited -