I-r:
Q
CI
-1
r
ii Fesss,: it Hffsw
~~ii:.;I~d
1 i:i
L -I:-i::
L:i:::::::r
/
t'V
i
ii eiz-s3aiae;rI:
wtzr
j iX-:-;:-~i~~i$:~ kr
1 jl
II

LIIYf jj
o



SELECTIONS
FROM THE WORKS OF THE LATB
SYLVESTER GENIN, ESQ.,
IN POETRY, PROSE, AND HISTORICAL DESIGN.
wit a  i ograticaIl fket4I
NEW-YORK:
MAIGNE & HALL, STEAM BOOK AND JOB PRINTERS.
NO 11 SPRUCE STREET.
1855.








BIOGRAPHY
OF
SYLYESTER GENIN.
SYLVESTER GENIN was born on the 22d of January, 1822,
at 37 Main street, in St. Clairsville, Ohio. His parents were
Thomas H. Genin, and Ann Hillard. His maternal grandparents were Thurston Hillard, and Eunice Jackson.  His
maternal great grand parents were Isaac Hillard and Sarah
White: David Jackson and Mary Sandford. His paternal
grand  parents were  John   Nicholas Genin, and Sarah
Hedges.   His paternal great grand parents were Nicholas Genin, and Hellelia Urbin; Thomas Hedges and Temperance Barnes.   His descent, through Urbin and Hillard,
reminds of Nicholas Hilliard and Raphael Urbin, whom he
resembled in his fondness for the pictorial art. His father was
an accurate lawyer, and author of " THE NAPOLEAD," an epic
po3m. His paternal grandfather, John N. Genin, was a native
of Labeurville, in the Diocese of Verdun, in France. He camo
to America with Gen. Rochambeau, in July, 1780, at the age
of twenty-five, as clerk in the Commissary's department.
If one reads a biography at all, he generally wishes to know
more than is narrated. Most lives are written long after the
subject has passed away, and consequently nothing is told but
what is traceable in his epistolatory writings, public acts,
or tradition. Small incidents, though illustrative of character
and mind, are beyond the biographer's reach, and are therefore
unnoticed. This defect is one of necessity; and so general, as
to possibly be mistaken for a rule in such compositions, by
those who do not reflect on its source. Having the knowledge
0              0rbL~ ~JQd~~I ~iZ




4                     BIOGRAPHY.
of small matters, the biographei should give them a place in
his narration. Some trivial circumstances concerning the subject of this notice will therefore be mentioned as such, and not
as things deemed of importance.
His birth was almost without pain. The first ten months of
his existence he cried and fretted so little, that his parents
feared his voice would be weakened for want of exercise of
the lungs. After a few months, when he wished to be fed, he
would give signs of restlessness. After receiving food, he
would lie for hours, look about the room, open and shut his
hands, looking intently at their form and motions. The manliness of his features, particularly the prominence of his aquiline nose, gave to laced caps a slight comic effect. Once when
his mother had attempted his adornment, she exclained, holding him on her lap," Why he looks worse than ever, yetmother
loves him as well as if he was a perfect beauty."  When
twenty-two months old, he talked remarkably plain, pronouncing his words with great distinctness: which continued until
the latter part of his third year, when this distinctneess and
clearness of utterance somewhat declined, for the same reason
probably that those who write well, while care:ful in forming
their letters, gradually write worse as they write more, and
relax their efforts to improve. On the street, among the
children of the town, he assumed the guardianship and protection of his brother, Thurston, about two years older than himself-entering into combats in his defence. When hurt, he
would cry, but still continue the battle. An instance of this
Occurred in his third year. His brother rlan into the house,
by his direction, while he attacked two offending boys; presently all three were crying heartily, but the two offenders
were in flight. He then came into the house, wiping h is tcar s
well satisfied with his exploit: saying, "He guessed they wlould
let Thurston alone now." In the beginning, or sometime in
the first quarter of his third year, as one was teaching
the alphabet to his elder brother, Sylvester came along, and
was asked if he wished to learn the letters. The pointer
happened then to be at O, and he was told the namies of the
letters from 0 to Z. Some weeks afterwards, hle w's ask aled




BIOGRAPHY.                     5
or perhaps commanded, to come and learn the letters. He was
told their names from A to O; but from 0 to Z he name4,
each letter correctly. On immediately repeating from A to
0, he could name but one or two letters; and he was eight or
ten days, reading twice or thrice a day, learning this part of
the alphabet. In the first instance he volunteered, and his
mind was probably concentrated on the work, unaffected by
disturbing forces. On the other occasions his attention must
have been divided. Near the close of his second year, his
father taking him upon his lap, was surprised to see him squirm
out of his arms, indignantly, saying, "I am not a little baby.'
His father was accustomed, when retiring, late at night, to
visit the room where his boys slept, to see that they were properly covered; and he often lingered there, gazing at Sylves:
ter's countenance, when asleep; which, during the first four or
five years of his life, he thought possessed a striking dignity,
that was afterwards sornewhat diminished. This the father
attributed to surrounding belittling influences, perhaps erroneously; for the boy never seemed to lose confidence in himself,
or to thk ahink a hing unattaiable which had been attained by
others. He ascribed, on one occasion, his want of comprehension to the frailty of childhood. Seeing that too much was
expected of him, he looked up deprecatingly, and said, " I am
little."  The truth of this answer made its eloquence effective.
In 1826, a work in French, of 30 quarto volumes, was added
to his father's library. IHe took great interest in the event,
and asked how long it would be before he could be instructed
in French, so as to read those lbig books. Zimmerman avers
that a child should be greatly esteemed who inquires if his life
will be written, as it indicates worthy aspirations. In the autumn
of 1824, having, with his brother, at the close of the day, come in
from the street, he proceeded, as they sat by the fire, to arraign
his brother for indiscretion, in trading in pins, and made a
speech, which his father immediately put in writing, as a
curiosity, seeing the speaker was scarce two years and nine
months old. It read as follows, " Mother, do you want a pin?
Thurst! where is your quill full of pins? You will not tell
mother where they are. Marion Ellis can tell where they are.




BIOGRAPHY.
HIe knows who is foolish. I don't go through the street, fooling pins away, do I father? Can you, Thurst, tell what you
got for your pins? Show to mother what you got for your
quill full of pins."
This was spoken with rapidity, without waitingfor reply to
the interrogatories, and with singular energy and vivacity,
contrasting surprisingly with the infantile aspect of the
speaker.
He was invited in the year 1828 to take part in a school's
dramatic and oratorical exhibition, at the Court House, in St,
Clairsville, some three days before it was to take place. The
address of Jupiter to the gods, at the commencement of the
eighth book of the Iliad, was recommended as a suitable speech
for him to deliver. But when he appeared on the stage, he
began at the commencement of the eighth book, and recited 224
lines, with such appropriate gesticulation and modulation of
voice as quite amused the audience. A gentleman who had assisted in preparing the scholars for the occasion, remarked that
after all their efforts a little fellow, not belonging to the school,
had carried off most of the glory of the exhibition. A few
days afterwards this little fellow was observed by his mother
to lhe unhappy. On enquiring the cause of his distress, "O,"
said he, "I wish I had not made that speech the other night;
for all the boys have been mad at me ever since. If I had
composed the speech myself I should think something of it;
but to speak the words of another, with some few motions to
show one feels tle meaning of what he says, is a small thing.
They must think a great deal of a little to be mad about that.
I wish I had not made the speech."  The expression of this
wish inducing laughter, he left the room in dudgeon. Thus
early did he feel the assiiults of envy, and fail to find all the
sympathy a troubled spirit required.
While at the breast it was his habit generally, when awake,
to employ his hands in feeling of the nose, chin, eye-brows,
and all the features of his mother's face, beginning at some
point, and carefully and softly touching all its elevations and
depressions. She often complained of this annoyance, but
never broke him of the habit, while he slept with her.




BIOGRAPHY.                     T
In the fall of 1823, when he was some twenty-two months
old, his father hearing him in the next room cry awhile, and
then talk, alternately, inquired what was the matter. His
mother replied, that he was asking her what would become of
his friends; and he wad only expressing his interest in their
prospects. Will all the men die, and be buried? he inquired.
Yes. Will father be buried?  Yes. (Cries aloud a few moments.) Will mama be buried, too?   Yes. (Cries.) Will
Turton and Vete be put in the hole, and buried? Yes. A
somewhat more intense cry followed this answer; but he soon
resumed the examination; the pertinacity of a man seeming
to be veiled by the weakness of a child.
In his ninth year, having just listened to the praise bestowed
on the speech of a lawyer, by the people, he asked his father
what languages and sciences this lawyer had acquired, apparently with the view of ascertaining the necessary accomplishments to win similar renown. As the lawyer was guiltless of
much knowledge, the father referred to the school exhibition
speech, in illustration of what voice and action might do for a
speaker and embraced the opportunity to explain to him the
needful, the useful, and ornamental accomplishments of a
lawyer.
The boy listened attentively, occasionally putting questions,
leading to the belief that he was inclined to follow the legal
profession. He had already, without seeming aware of being
embarked in juridical studies, learned, frotn conversations, the
personal relations; most of the definitions touching real estate;
the actions, and their distinguishing features; the elementary
principles of practice and pleading; the construction of contracts, and principles governing negotiable paper; and when,
some years afterwards, he and his brother, on resolving to make
law their chief business in life, were engaged on the books of
jurisprudence, they were surprised to find they had partially
gone over so much of the juridical field before.
The matters of law, among other things he had learned, had
at times been reimpressed on his memory, by causing the brothers
to examine each other in evenings, or when inclement weather
confined them to the house.




BIOGRAPHY..
He never went to school, except a part of two quarters, when
first learning to read. His father remembering the imprisonr
meits he had suffered in Spring and Summer in school housesr
at that period in life when confinement is most irksome, resolved
not to mar the happiness of his children in this manner, if he
could conveniently be their instructor. Other circumstances
conspired to confirm this resolution, particularly the general
incompetency of teachers, and the conviction that all scholars are
self-made, whether studying at home, or in a college; and that
even an illiterate woman can, by judicious prais- of learning
and learned men, in the presence of children, make better
echolars than a schoolmaster, who cannot excite their ambition.
If this be roused, a child can scarce be prevented from making
of himself what he pleases. If he has the will he soon finds the
way to learn: text books are procured, and the wise consulted,
The vulgar error that one cannot learn but at school is the
cause of much ignorance. The teacher, like a finger board at
the fork of a road, is useful, but not indispensable. The one
wnd the other merely point the course. The pupil must do the
labor of study or travel. Poverty is not an "unconquerable
bar" and its inconveniences are more than counterbalanced by
its incentives to exertion. The rich may feel the spur of ambition, but it does not propel with the force of poverty. The
effcient student who feels no need of exertion for a livelihood
hias merit as superior as labor from choice is to labor from
tecessity, or acts of affection to those of interest. There are
some of all classes who will not try to learn; and as they canr
not be filled with knowledge as a barrel is filled with a pitcher
and funnel, they remain ignorant. The wealthy may waste
money on such, but the industrious and frugal middle class de#erves a better fate, than to be taxed to help those, who will
Hot help themselves.
A general respect for intellectual acquirements induces exertions in the student. This is the basis of all successful mental
Culture of a people. They must not exalt the ignorant, and netgect the intelligent, if they would promote education or the
public interests. The people have more need of the services of
the wise than the wise of the notice of the people.




BIOGRAPHY.                     9
Whether education be public or private, success depends on
the will and exertion of the pupil. The advantages of either
mode are nearly equal. If by the private there is less contammation from evil example, there is less knowledge acquired of
human nature, and consequently less capacity for successful intercourse with the world. Dr. Johnson remarks of Don Quixotte
that he was frequently outwitted, and iir osed upon by Sancho
Panza, though inferior in mind because Sancho possessed a
meanness which the Don did not suspect existed in human
nature.  A knowledge of what is possible is necessary, in order
to judge of what is probable.
Under the guidance of his father, the son pursued the study
of the sciences and languages at home, along with his brothers,
mostly at his discretion, going out to play, or work on the farm,
on which he resided, near St Clairsville, when he was inclined
to do so  The French, Latin, and English, were the objects of
most attention among languages. He had acquired such knowledge of the Greek and German, as to ascertain the meaning of
sentences, in those languages, with the aid of a grn-ammar, and
dictionary. He took great pleasure in reading books in French
and in repeating the sonorous lines of Virgil, and was inclined
to pay full as nmuch attention to the dead lajnguages as comported with the views of his father; who though he held a thorough
knowledge of them useful, yet since they have ceased to be the
almost exclusive repertories of knowledge, le believed time
could be more advantageously employed than in their acquisition, except to a certain limited extent. To strengthen his
voice he was early recommended to read aloud, and to give lectures to his brothers on what he had learned. They thus instructed one another, and re-impressed former acquisitions of
knowledge by mutual examinations.' Text books were not
much u4ed, bat occasionally referred to; and answers wers
made in the language of the pupils. After going often over the
same ground, they adopte a at length nearly the same words
and forms of expression at every examination, frargmentary specimensof which are found among their papers. As: what areelements?  They are the materials of which a thing is comnposed,
What are details? The steps taken to form a thing. What are




10                    BIOGRAPHY.
the elements of a cross-bow? Wood, and flax. Whatarethe details of a cross-bow? Cutting the wood, twisting the flax into
cord, &c. What are the elements of epsom salts? Oxygen, sulphur,
and magnesia. Oxygen combines with the radical, sulphur, forming sulphuric acid; this acid combines with magnesia, forming
epsom salts or Sulphate of Magnesia. What are the elements
of lime-stone?  Carbon, Oxygen, and lime. Oxygen combines
with the radical Carbon, forming Carbonic acid; this acid unites
with lime, forming lime stone or Carbonate of lime, and so of
other things in Chemistry.
What is known of nature? Very little. We are convinced
that the moons revolve around the planets, as the planets around
the sun; and the sun around a center in the region of the star
Alcyone, in a circle so vast, that it is difficult to distinguish a
great length of its orbit from a straight line. The stars in
front get farther apart, while those behind get nearer together,
showing the direction in which the solar system is marching.
It may take eighteen millions of years to perform one revolution.
Alcyone, with all his solar systems is probably revolving around
some more distant center, in a circle still more vast. To day,
when earth is nearest to Jupiter, a line is drawn toward the
north star. Six months hence, the line seems to point at the
same star though the earth has moved one hundred and ninety
millions of miles, and so far that the light of Jupiter's moons is
eight minutes longer in reaching the earth, showing that one
hundred and ninety millions of miles is an imperceptible point
compared to the distance of the north star from this planet.
What is the elementary principle of politeness? To so act
as not to offend but to please others. What are the details?
They would fill a dozen volumes. Common sense points them
out. To look well and clean pleases more than to look ill and
dirty. Graceful motions please more than awkward ones.
What is comnion or in fashion is more agreeable than what is
uncommon and odd. Respect, evinced by dress, speech, or attitude, pleases more than indifference. One should avoid all
habits that make him a nuisance. Mrs A. will not invite B, Esq.,
to her soirees, because he engrosses all the conversation; nor G.
because he casts tobacco juice on the hearth and floor; nor D.




BIOGRAPHY.                    11
because he smokes without caring whom he incommodes; nor
E., the lawyer, because he leans back, gouging the wall with
his feet on the rounds of the chair, taking off its gilding; and
has even been known to put his feet against the mantle, or on
a table, to the great amusement of some, and the disgust of
others, who had been more fortunate in their education. These
men probably have not the least suspicion that their actions
certify their vulgarity and make them disagreeable.
What is the elementary principle in war? To gain a preponderance-to bring a greater force than that of your antagonist to bear on the point of action. What are the details?
The drill; the movement of parts in unity; provision of supplies, &c. &c. What is the elementary principle by which one
may bind another at law? Authorization by the one sought to
be bound. What are the details? An express authority as to
one not in a family, or business relation, or an implied authority
as to wives, children, apprentices, servants, partners. Any
circumstance that rebuts the presumption of authority to bind,
must be noticed by the vendor; such as a wife, child, or servant,
seeking to purchase things not of family need; or a partner,
things not of the partnership business.
What word expresses the elementary principle of legal practice? Notice. All steps in a suit are but a succession of notices.
What are the elements of penmanship? Straight and curve
lines. The details? Their combination into letters and sentences. A correct habit of writing is best acquired by making
letters as large as the capacity of the hand of the writer admits.
How many Governments exist?    Two: Monarchical and
Republican. Monarchical is absolute or limited. The Republican is Aristocratic or Democratic. The absolute monarch
rules by his will; the limited by the law. A class rules in an
aristocracy; the whole people in a Democracy; but cliques
rule more or less in all Governments. Where do we find despotism?  It is found in all Governments at times, when ill
administered. And the people are safe in all when nell administered. Do the people form the Government or the Government the people?   The form of Government is determined




12                     BIOGRAPHY.
by the vice, virtue, ignorance or intelligence of the people in its first institution or birth, and afterwards strives to
prolong its existence like other beings, by shaping the people
to its purposes. Every people have such a Governlment as they
deserve. If majorities infringe the rights of minorities in Democracies, force comes to curb the vicious, and creates generally
an absolute monarch, for the common safety of person land
property. Hence virtue is the preserving principle in republics
and limited monarchies; and fear in absolute monarclies.
Absolute or dictatorial power, given, or allowed to be assumed
in great emergencies, is afterwards directly or gradually liratedby the people. Thus republics hasten into monarchy, as rivers
into the sea, and ever will as long as majorities find it so difficult to keep their hands out of their neighbors pockets. The
injustice of majorities makes absolute monarchies. No people
are slaves that were not first unjust. In many instances the
people have fled from democratic despotism to absolute mnn.
archy for shelter, as the least of two evils.
What is the elementary principle in political economy?
Selfsufficiency; independence of other nations I the retention
of specie, or the vital fluid of business, within the state. What
are the details? Manufacturing at home; creating a market
there for the products of the ground, and providing materials
for colmerce. Agriculture and manufactures are two legs of
a state that should be kept of equal length, or it will halt,
Commerce is always at hand, if there be things for exchange.
She turns up her nose at a poor state. She prefers to carry
diamonds instead of sand stones, manufactured articles instead
of logs. The vessel that carries a thousand dollars worth of
logs, could carry ten thousand worth of goods at the same expense. A nation is but a large family and what will make a
family thrive will make a nation thrive.
Why is so plain a matter disputed? Because of selfishness,
or politics. What ispolitics? The art of effecting purposed
or ends. When F got C kept at home from    school, lest he
might take a cold, in order that F could reach the head of tlhe
class in spelling, he enacted the politician. If one state would
shape its laws by the advice of another state, it would become




BIOGRAPHY.                    13
the slave of that state to a great extent. If Ohio would abolish
all l:n) iking. she would present a fine field for the circulation
of the bank paper of other states. If we send persons to make
laws who have no taxable property, we shall soon have an
abundance of taxation. If the cotton planter could persuade
the grain-grower to dispense with a home market, and thereby
coMplel manufacturers to be farmers, wheat would soon be cheap.
Thse who recommend rotation in office want apprenticestatesmen to deal with. The people are told they are wise to
keep themr from listening to the intelligence that is among
then, taking the hint from Solomon. The Ohio canals benefittei NewYork more than Ohio Statesmen of other states have
been accused of fashioning our opinions for their use, and
authors have been charged with publishing rules of criticism, to
securle a favorable reception of their books.
The teacher's task was often performed at the table, while'
eating; a subject would be mentioned; some leading ideas
stated, respecting it, and books referred to for further infiormation. A -few days aftersx ards the same subject would be mentioned, with the expectation of hearing it illustrated, and,
generally the pupil was prepared for the task; taking sometimes new views, and offering reasonis not contained in the books
consulted. On reading a newspaper, the mention of ports,
cities, rand other points, presented occasions for enquiry into
their geographical position, population, manners, customs, &c.,
and if the papils could not readily answer, a reference to maps
ensued.  Some ten rules in arithmetic, including the four
elemetntary ones, of well-known practical use, were repeatedly
impressed; but no time was lost in going through any treatise
on thla:t science, spending weeks and months in attempting to
solve a: puzzle. The same course was observed in mathematics.
In grammar, the memory was burdened as little as possible.'In acquiring the languages a knowledge of the words, and
construction of sentences accompanied the study of the gram-'mar.
In his ninth year, he fell backwards into the fire, and narrowly
escaped death. While confined with the burn, his father taught
him the French language: every evening, reading to him a page:




14                    BIOGRAPHY.
first, a line, translating it literally; then a second, third, and
fourth line; he repeating from the first line, on the acquisition
of each new line; and at each evening repeating from the first
page, for ten pages; and, as progress was made, still repeating
ten pages every evening; and, weekly, reciting the whole number of pages learned. Meantime, he read over the nouns, pronouns, and verbs, getting an idea of the variations of words, in
their respective declensions, and conjugations. In three months
he read French very well; marking the new words,that he might
recur to them, until they should be permanently impressed on
his memory. He afterwards taught French in the same way to
his brothers Thurston and Florian; and he studied latin by a
similar process. It appears that Roger Ascham instructed the
princess, afterwards Queen Elizabeth, in this manner; and that
Milton and Locke have recommended it, and that the very very
wise world have, with great unanimity, disregarded it. Pope,
who enjoyed some advantages in the acquaintance and conversation of distinguished statesmen, avers, that this part of the
human species prescribe modes of education, and objects of
pursuit, so as to keep busy geniuses too much employed to look
closely into affairs of state. The longer they can keep the
mind in pursuit of words, the less it will accomplish in acquiring a knowledge of things. Cardinal Richlieu's institution of
the French Academy, it is supposed, was intended to avert attention from his meditated hostilities against the poor remains
of French liberty..He turned all heads towards the object of
improving their language, while he proceeded in his sinister
enterprize.
In his fourth year Sylvester was instructed in Englishgrammar, along with his brother, near two years older than
he, by way of experiment, to ascertain the capabilities of
infants. By using language, that they understood, they soon
learned to parse sentences of which they comprehended the
meaning. No book was used: they were taught orally. In answering questions the idea was clothed in their own language
At length they adopted the language following.-We have nine
classes of words.
What is a noun? It is the name of a thing-of any thing




BIOGRAPHY.                    15
we can see, feel, or think of-as fire, air, heat, water. What is
an adjective?  It is a word that tells what the noun is; as
whether it is hard, soft, light, heavy, good, bad. Form a sentence
of the adjective and noun only. Good boy-heavy wood.
What is a verb? It is a word that tells the motion of the
noun, as whether it runs, falls, stands, sits, loves, hates. Place
a noun, adjective, and verb in sentence. Good boy runs.
With these three classes of words, or parts of speech, we might
express our ideas; but there are six other parts. What is an
adverb?  It is a word that tells something about the verb,
adjective, and sometimes another adverb. Place the noun, adjective, verb, and adverb in connexion.  Good boy runs
nimbly; is very wise; runs very nimbly. Give a sentence
containing a word of each class, and a noun, in each case.
The yellow vine's pumpkin rolls swiftly near an orchard, and
oh it vanishes. This is sufficient to give some idea of the
method of instruction. In 1833,the editor of the Literary
Cabinet, in St. Clairsville, hired him to make translations from
Dupaty's letters; several of which were published in that
paper. The first letter is given below, as a specimen of his
manner at that time.
AVIGNON, April.
I arrived, day before yesterday, at Avignon. Despair not,
at Paris, of spring,-I encountered it, at the entrance of the
Earldom. My fiust inclinations have been for the fountain of
Vaucluse. I went to see it yesterday. I know not wherefore
I say yesterday; for it seems to me that I see it yet to-day.
I think, even now, to see escape from the midst of a chain of
mountains, as from the bottom of a vast funnel, a river, which
bounds, leaps, and, all at once, arrives with an impetuosity,
with a thunder, with a boiling, with a foam, with falls, that
the pencil of the poet, or the painter, cannot describe-it is
the fountain of Vaucluse. An instant afterwards, the river
grows calm, like a happy native, whose first transports are
soon moderated by good nature. It changes, then, its waves of
silver into waves of azure, which subside, as it pours over a
carpet of emeralds, but soon it is divided into a multitude
of little streanrlets that run across a charming valley. In departing from this valley these streamlets re-unite, and afterwards again separate, meandering along by an hundred




16  BIOGRAPTY.
different routes, under the name of Sorgue, to bedew, feirtilize,
and emibel lisih the delicious earldom -of Avignon.
The picturc' that the Abbe Delille has given of that fair
residence is very exact. I have verified all the verses; they:speak truth, like prose, which is not always a characteristic
either of travellers or poets. Poetry however, cannot give a'full and adequ'ate idea of that place. lt can on ly give tle remembrance of it. Portraits and descriptions are alike with respect to all objects. 1 have not fo und in the verse sol uch tumult,
nor so many murmurs as in the fountain. One sees not there
those rocks so dark, which form such an admirable contrast
with the snowy whiteness of the breaking waves; neither has
the poet unfolded that brilliant carpet of emeralds. on which
the Naiad reposes. Vaucluse offers, at once, a picture the most
admirable, and a phenomenon the most singular; but I will
say with the poet,"Those waves, that heaven, and that enchalntitg vale
Thai,' Lati'ir  and Petrarch. less move rty lhetL.t."
The remembrance of Petrarch and of Laura animnates all the
landscape, it embellishes, it enchants it. I have sought fir
some tr;ces of these lovers all over the rocks. It i' then here,
say I, thlat they came to sit together; here that Petrarch so
much has loved; here that he has shed so many tears; that he
has breathed s(o nmany sighs, which we yet hear! I sit on the
declivity of t  rock, and there for hours am delighted with the
noise of tho,,e waters; with the verdure of that turf; witli the
azure of: that fair heaven; with the youth of spring, andr the
remembrance of Ltaura, There I have gathered around my
heart all the objects which to it are dear.' I have imlagiined all
my child rel leap,  upon that tu'f, running upon that shore,
and striking, withl emulation, the echoes, and my heart with a
thousand cries of happilness and joy. Before departing, I have
wished to ascer tain whether, as the Abbe Deliile assures us,' Echo has not folgotten the sweet name of Laura,' iot to
displease the poet, the ingrate has forgotten the half of it.
Adieu! charming fountain of Vaucluse!   Mankind scarce
know the places where Alexander has gained his battles:; but
they will always remember the places where Laura and
Petrarch have loved. The murmurs of thy wave, 0  rVaucluse I
and the songs of the Gardens and the Months will repeat them
to l all ages
In the Autumn of 1831 his father took the portraits of the
three brothers, wiith lead pencil, to ascertain if any of them
possessed the faculty of drawing.  These portraits were laid




BIORATlAPHY.                  17
Away in a file of newspapers, the originals not seeming to take
any particular interest in the art. Some three years afterwards
on turning over the leaves of the newspapers, as if by accident,
these portraits were found, and were exhibited to show what
changes time had wrought on their vizages. Sylvester, on the
-same day, asked for paper, on which, he said, he meant to draw
a11 the distinguished men. The next day, he presented to his
father a tolerable good likeness of Washington; and soon after
~of Napoleon.  Some weeks then elapsed without further
attempts to draw. His father proceeded to copy the portrait
of the Empress Josephine. This recalled the son's attention to
the art.  He formed the outline of a Josephine, without the
features of the face; and expressing some doubt, as to successfully copying the face of a woman, his father proposed to make'one eye, and copy -the features on one side of the face, and that
the son should copy the other side of it. The joint production
was -ret without harmony. It encouraged farther efforts; and
shortly afterwards he produced a tolerable likeness of the Empress. He soon became enamored with the art, and some half
dozen miniatures, on ivory, were painted for his neighbors, at
five dollars each. He then turned his attention to painting in
oil, and copied a portrait of his father, which had been painted
by A. D. G. Tuthill, in 1815. Hi: likenesseswere very exact;
and he was told by his acquaintances, that, in his skill, he
possessed an ample fortune; but his father remarked, that the
taking of portraits was rather a matter of talent, than genius,
and somewhat mechanical, without affording the advantages for
thrift, which are found in the trades of the carpenter, sadler,
or cobler; for these could avail themselves of the laLor of apprentices and journeymen; but the painter must necessarily,
earn with his own hands, all he acquired. That if money, or
wealth, were the sole end of life, there were better means of
reaching that end, than the painting of portraits; and if glory
were in view, it chiefly hovered over the historical painter; between whom, and the mere portrait painter, there was a great
difference. He was observed, after this, to be quite indifferent
to portraits, and, at times, to complain of the defective powers
of description in most authors, except Homer, whom he stud
2




18                     BIrOGRAPHY.
posed must have been a practical painter. At length he was
observed to be at work upon his painting of the passage of the
Granicus, containing some eighty figures. Many of these were
obliterated several times, and others substituted, which, not
suiting his taste, were, in their turn, struck out, to give place
to new conceptions of attitude and energy, showing great fertility of invention, and accuracy of delineation. A bay horse,
named Fox, of remarkable power to leap fences, was often
required to go through this exercise, and to asce nd and descend
steep declivities, that his varying positions might be noted, and
spread upon the canvass. Another horse of his father's, of
less strength, but of finer proportions, was accurately measured
from point to point, in every direction, and from him the just
proportions of horses in general were determined. The same
method was pursued in reference to the human form, taking
the Apollo for the model. To get a more perfect idea of this
form, he often would draw its skeleton, and successively supply
it with arteries, veins, and muscles; and whatever clothing
was put on his figures, they were first drawn naked. He considered an accurate knowledge of anatomy essential to the
Pimner, even when naked persons stood for models, especially
if the development of the muscles was indistinct from obesity.
There was difficulty in procuring well-formed persons who
were willing to denude, and maintain a given posture a sufficient length of time. An Englishman, digging coal on the
farm, in 1839, consented to be employed in this manner a portion of each day; but he complained of its irksomeness, and
strongly recommended that the field of battle, upon which the
painter was engaged, should be plentifully strewed with the
dead, which, he said, " was the life of such a field;" and he felt
as if he could lie down, in imitation of the fallen soldier, with
much satisfaction. The placing of this man in position, with
a corn stalk for a spear, requesting him to look ferocious, as
if about to plunge it into the foe; the laughter which followed,
contrasted with the earnest gravity of the youthful artist, intent on accomplishing the complex and grand design of the
battle of the Granicus, presented an amusing scene. He could
only get the Englishman's countenance to express the firm




BIOGRAPHY.                   19
determination suited to illustrate the temper of the Macedonian
cavalry. The terror and dismay of the Persians were supplied
by the artist's imagination, and fiom observing his own face
in the mirror, under affected excitement. His study of the
countenance of the horse, in different states of emotion, and in
various attitudes, led him to take many portraits of this animal. He often visited a neighbor's field, where some twenty
or thirty colts, of various ages, pastured, to note their motions,
and take sketches of their attitudes; frequently not returning
until chilled and shivering with cold. He bestowed some attention oil the durability of colors. Having read of the fading
of Sir Joshua Reynold's paintings, and that the works of the
older masters retained their hues, he inferred, that probably
the materials least indebted to art, but found in a state of
nature, would be most likely to supply permanent colors; for
nature, he said, had by this time probably effected all the
changes of which the matter is susceptible, when not in combination with oil. This was in his fifteenth year. At this
time, he was thought to be somewhat more fond of the society
of old men and very young children, than of those near his own
age. He was often seen to lead little infants around, while
temptations to play with his equals seemed very great; and he
would voluntarily quit the sports, so interesting to youth, to
go and converse for hours with old men: on some of whom his
mother sportively accused him of having matrimonial designs,
since the apparent courtship had been so long and constant. Mr.
Hugh Anderson, an engraver, who executed a considerable
number of the plates in the American edition of the Edinburgh
Encylopedia, published in Philadelphia, settled in St. Clairsville, in 1831. Not long after his arrival, he was visited by
the young artist. The gentleman, believing he was come to
seek playmates among his children, directed them to be called.
His visitor requested him not to take the trouble; that, understanding his connexion with the arts, he had called to ask his
opinion of a miniature on ivory, which he then took from his
pocket. Mr. Anderson afterwards remarked that he soon
discovered he had made a mistake in judging of suitable company for his young friend; for he found him well qualified to




20                   BIOGRAPHY.
entertain the aged. His talks from this time, with the
worthy engraver, were frequent and long; often extending
far into the night; embracing a great variety of topics, in art,
sciences, policy, and war. He often spoke of the pleasure and
instruction derived from the company of Mr. Anderson, and
the Hon. Benjamin Ruggles. He painted the portraits of these
gentlemen, and that of Mrs. Anderson; which constitute the
whole of what he achieved in portraits in oil in his native
place, except about a dozen in his own family; choosing to
employ what time he snatched from other pursuits, upon historical subjects.
In his 17th year he remodelled the design of the battle of
the Granicus, and painted it in oil, 48 by 30 inches. In the
same year he designed and painted the battle of Arbela, with
India ink, upon paper, about 12 by 18 inches, containing some
30 figures. The spirited animation and confusion of conflict,
and great variety of attitude, exhibited in the Granicus, affords
a striking idea of the deadly struggle of intermingled combatants. The moment of the action is that in which Cleitus, at
full gallop, arrives just in time to intercept the repetition of
the blow aimed at Alexander, which it was supposed, would
have proved fatal. The King has already slain one Persian
commander, and is charging over another with his black Thracian horse, Bucephalus, while Cleitus, commander of the life
guard, with all his efforts, can scarce keep near enough to assist in the defence of his sovereign. This foremost and impe.
rial surge of battle has a most formidable aspect, in the vizages
and attitudes of both the horse and his rider. The combative
fury depicted in the countenance of Bucephalus, is in admirable
harmony with the fearful circumstances surrounding him, and
the raging conflict in which he is engaged. Superior in dignity, a superior ardor and energy is given to this horse and his
rider, as they press like a tempest-driven ship, through the hostile masses surging around them. The lines on the Resolution
to attack the Persians at the Granicus appear to have been
written in aid of the conception of this piece, or in its illustration. A council is called, but the ardor or quick perception of
Alexander, makes the consultation very brief. Noting firm




BIOGRAPHY.                      21
self-reliance in the faces of the veteran council, "dissipating
doubts of sage Parmenio" he declares, forthwith, for fight.
At which each vizage sudden glows with joy;
Enough he cries; each from his heart assents:
Although the sun is on his downward march,
Bucephalus shall soon his monarch bear
Up yonder steep:who would with him keep pace,
By strength and valor need be greatly served.
Haste, plunge the phalanx in the rushing waves;
Ourself will, forthwith, lead the bounding horse.
In the battle of Arbela the principal characters, the respective heads of the Grecian and Persian nations, are conspicuous.
No intervening figures obstruct a full view of their persons.
It presents the action at the moment Alexander on Bucephalus, bounding over prostrate foes, with greatest vehemence, is
in act to cast his spear at Darius, as he is about to quit -his
chariot, and mount a horse held for him by a groom. The ex.
treme energy and impetuosity of aspect of the eager Alexander,
and his fiery steed, and the hopeless dread, with which the im
perial Persian beholds the swift approach of his formidable en -
emy, present seemingly, the highest intensity of expression of
which the art is capable
It was about this period, that he executed the design of
Samson pulling down the pillars of the temple; of Samson
slaying the Philistines, with the jaw bone, and of Tydides and
Nestor in the storm. Of the latter he partly made an engraving on copper, and as it was his first and last attempt with the
burin, though unfinished, it is given to the reader as he left it
in his 16th year. His father did not wish him to go among
artists, and cn-noiseurs, until he had accomplished so much
on the score of design, that his genius would not be likely to be
dwarfed by their affectation and pedantry. Firmly believing,
that there was a reason for the rise of great painters and poets in the infancy of nations, before stupidity enacted laws for
governing the motions of genius, the father was solicitou,
that the son should prolong his study of painting in Ohio, in
nature's school, which he held to be superior to any in the Atlantic cities, or Rome itself, until a certain confidence in his




22                   BIOGRAPHY.
capacity, and maturity of judgement, should enable him to distinguish between the true and the false in criticism and taste d
that when he should hear of impossibilities, he might consider
them as merely difficulties-that when a performance should
be accounted impracticable, he might recur to what he had accomplished, without suspicion, that such giants obstructed his
path. It was supposedhe might thus make less progress in
the knowledge of details; but the tardiness of acquisition in
this line would be compensated by enlargement of views, boldness of conception, and readiness of design. Various as are
the positions of the figures in the Granicus, probably twice or
thrice their number, were formed, and these not suiting
the taste, were obliterated, to give room to a new group, exhibiting remarkable facility in placing the form of man or
horse in any desirable posture.
In the spring of 1840 he left his home, in Ohio, for the eastern
cities, and did notreturn until February, 1841. His object
was to learn what he could in relation to art and artists, to ascertain, with accuracy, the shape of ancient costumes and arms;
what colours were most permanent, and what were the prospects of artists. He was furnished with letters to persons in
Philadelphia, New York, New Haven and Boston, but went
no farther than New Haven. The most and best which he
learned in this excursion was from a work in French, which he
found in a public library in Philadelphia. From this work he
copied extensively, filling many sheets, with the costumes
weapons, and chariots, of many nations. He took with him
several of his designs and portraits, including the battles of
the Granicus and Arbela. Some of the more distinguished artists to whom he showed these designs, seemed to contemplate
them with earnest attention, and, at length, broadly hinted; that
there were plagiarisms contained in them from Raphael's battle
of Constantine and Maxentius. No, answered the boy, they are
my own designs. But these individual attitudes; have you
not seen them in some engraving? Not at all, they are after
my own fancy, founded on studies of nature, in Ohio, where my
brothers, by riding up and down steep places, enabled me to
sketch the varying postures of the horse and rider. A close




BIOGRAPHY.                    23
inspection of the pictures followed this declaration. At length,
without expressing any opinion of the designs, much praise was
bestowed upon the portraits. His letters from the east follow.
PHILADELPHIA, June 28, 1840.
DEAR FATHER:-I arrived at this place, on Sunday the 21st,
via. Pittsburgh, and Chambersburgh. I remained at the former place but two days, where I neither heard, nor saw anything
of the fine arts. I am now at Mrs Crims', 108 Walnut Street,
at $5 per week; a place recommended by Titus Bennet, at
whose house I was received with great hospitality. On Monday morning I visited the Artist's Fund Society, where I found
the best specimens of the works of the living American artists, among whom R. Peal, Neagle, and Sully, stand preeminent. Peal's resembles Tuthill's paintings. One of Sully's
male portraits, surpasses any one in the collection, both in effect and coloring; but he not always attains such excellence.
In general, Peal and Neagle are his equals. They are inferior in painting females to many other artists. I have not seen
a very good female portrait by either of them, though there
are several there; among which is Victoria, by no means a
chef douvre: The relief is good, but it has the appearance of
a wax figure, in common with the rest of Sully's female pieces.
In Peal's female pictures the fault seems to consist in one's not
being able to perceive the flesh through the shade. With regard to Neagle, I have not seen one bad work from his pencil
His rich Blacksmith in the Academy is not beat by any in
coloring and effect. The collection is composed chiefly of portraits and landscapes; fancy sketches of Dutchmen playing
cards, telling tales &c. There are one or two attempts at
historical pictures, but I should not wish to exhibit such works.
On leaving this collection, I went to the Academy of the Fine
Arts, and was surprised to find the execution of West's great picture far below the ideas entertained of it. The design surpassed
my expectation; but the coloring and relief of the figures were
not as good as Neagle's Blacksmith. The Academy, as well as
the Artist's Fund Society, has some very poor pieces, and
some fine designs and fancy pieces of females. The tout
en semble is not as good as I expected to find it.
Since writing the above, I have been to see Mr. Sully. He
spoke very flatteringly of my battle pieces, especially of the
Arbela, and thought I could continue on in no better course
than the one taken. He advised me to get permission of the
President of the Academy, Judge Hopkinson, to copy the an



24                    BIOGRAPHY.,
fique busts. He invited me to attend, whenever I desired
free of expense, his and Earle's Gallery of Paintings, which I
have been to see, and found in it some fine paintings. One of
Dominichino's-not like the pretended Italian paintings, too
frequently encountered, emanations from sign painters'pencils
-but a perfect beauty; rich in coloring; and having the finest
features I ever saw. The shades seem to be made in the same
manner as Tuthill's, in your portrait, and as mine in the fancypiece, without mixture with white lead. There are also a couple of Sully's fancy female figures that approach it in excellence, the best 1 have seen from an American artist. There is
also the original draft of'the Queen Victoria, taken in her
palace, and a large picture of an Anaconda destroying a horse
and his rider, brought from London; the drawing is somewhat
faulty, but the effect and color good; and the shades seem to
be made without a mixture of white lead. At Mr. Bennet's, I
was advised to visit a Mr. Street, a painter, who had a gallery
of paintings, and was pleased to have visitors call and see
them. I thither went, and he showed me several designs of
his, which evince great imaginative powers, and his coloring
is very good. He showed to me a piece as smooth as ivory in
finish, and the effect was good a few yards distant from the
picture. His method of shading, he says, is an invention of
his own, and has been kept a secret. I told him my method;
he said it was the same that he followed when he was young.
He is as agreeable a man as I have met with in my journey.
He requested me to call often, and bring the little fellow, I
was traveling with, along. Hon. John Sergeant is not expected
home until August. I shall go to New York about the middle
of next week. I have been to see Fanny Elsler dance; and I
think the newspapers should be little credited, after lavishing
so much praise on such a poor subject; but men will do any
thing for money-and believe any thing, if it is fashionable;
thus I have heard several give their opinions concerning a
distinguished artisthere, saying they considered him a mediocre;
but that this was their private opinion, as the declaration
would make them be considered, by the public, as fools, void
of understanding and taste.
I shall show my designs, hereafter, only perhaps to Mr.
Trumbull.
Affectionately, yours, &c.,
S. GENIN.
NEW YORK, JULY 19, 1840.
DEAR FATHER:-I arrived in this place on the 6th inst.,
and intend going to New Haven, on the 23d. Before leaving




BIOGRAPHRY                    25
Philadelphia, I became acquainted with Mrs. Staugh ton, formerly Anna Peale, as also with her sister and cousin, Rembrandt
Peale. Mrs. Staughton has taken the prize for miniatures,
several times. She charges from eighty to one hundred dollars
a piece for them. I showed my designs to her. She had much
the same opinion of them as Mr. Sully, viz: that the design of
the Granicus showed more of the confusion of combat; and
was, consequently, a more faithful representation of a battle,
than the Arbela; that the crowded appearance of the Granicus
was its greatest beauty; that the Arbela made a more pleasing
prospect for the eye; and, as exhibiting a particular event of
the battle, was superior to the Granicus; though, as a battle,
inferior. As I became acquainted with Rembrandt Peale on
the eve of my departure for this city, I did not show my designs to him. Mr. Peale has traveled over Europe, and was
awhile a student of West's. He said he passed Le Brun's
paintings in the Louvre without noticing them, though he had
previously expected more pleasure on beholding them than any
others, from the high opinion he had entertained of them from
seeing the designs in engravings. But the designs were spoiled
by wretched coloring; whereas the engravings, composed
merely of light and shade, showed the full beauty of the designs,
freed from the incumbrance of a disgusting coloring. This is
also the case with the cartoons of Raphael; but the large
paintings of Raphael are as bright in their colors as when first
made.
I did not go to Bordentown, as it was the opinion of Mr.
Peale, that the paintings were removed to England, as Joseph
Bonaparte was building a house there, with the supposed intention of making it his residence.
I arrived in New York a few hours before the National
Academy of Design, consisting of the works of living American artists, closed. Thither I went, and instead of finding
an Academy of Design, I found an Academy of portraits and
landscapes, with one or two designs of fire-side scenes, &c.
Taken as a whole, it was fifty per cent inferior to the Philadelphia Artists' Fund Collection. There were as few good
pictures in the collection in New York, as there were poor
ones in that of Philadelphia-from which had some half dozen
been abstracted, there would not have been any very poor
ones in the collection; but had all the very poor pictures been
removed from the New York collection, the walls would have
been left almost empty. Mr. Noah's criticisms are all very
true, concerning them.
I saw here some by Powell, of Cincinnati. He has superiors,




26                    BIOGRAPHY.
but many inferiors. His pictures are much in the style of your
portrait of Washington, by Harrison. Durand, Ingham, and
Page, are the best I have seen in this city. The frames on the
mass of the pictures in the Academy, are worth more than the
works they enclose. Having finished my peregrinations in
this Academy of Design, (they call portraits and landscapes,
designs, for want of real designs, as the ancient Grecians used
to raise a fictitious tomb to the shipwrecked mariner, and offer
sacrifices on it, as though it were a real tomb, having given it
the name). I went to see a collection of paintings, exhibited by
one Clarke, all very old; among which are some good
ones. They " consist principally of the works of Leonardi da
Vinci, Reubens, Vandyke, and Salvator Rosa: all original;"
and it is difficult to find any dark old picture in the city, that
has not the name of some great Italian painter stuck on some
part of it; and, to give color to the fiction, a great price on
some other part of it. Clarke has more pictures of Salvator
Rosa, probably, than he ever painted. There is another collection of paintings, kept by Fraser, which private individuals
have sent thither, for sale, and are generally very good. There
are also some good pictures in the Barclay street collection.
I called on Mr. Brooks, who is recovering from a severe attack of the fever and ague. I was with him but a minute or
two. Hon. B. F. Butler has been of considerable service to
me. Through him, I was enabled to see two of the best collections in the city; one at Mr. Coleman's, a bookseller, who
has an immense collection of old prints, and many paintingsone of which is the best I have seen; another at Mr. Rutlidge's,
who traveled through Italy, with Mr. Butler's son-in-law, Mr.
Crosby, with whom I went to VMr. Rutlidge's gallery, which is
chiefly composed of Italian works; it has, also, one or two of
Col. Truimbull's. It was there I first beheld Italian paintings,
whose beauty equalled the fame of their reputed authors. One,
by Canal6tti, of the infant Jesus, sleeping, is exceedingly
beautiful: and there is not one, in the whole collection, that can
be called bad. Mr. Coleman's collection, to which I have
alluded, is an Elysian field for me; not so much on account of
the paintings, as the prints. He had sold a work, containing
all of Le Brun's battles, a few days before I became acquainted
with him; but he had two remaining: the battle of the Granicus,
and the Arbela. The Granicus is as large as mine, and done
by crayons; and the Arbela is an engraving, somewhat injured
by coloring. The time of action is a few moments before that
of mine. Darius is represented as sitting in his chariot, holding his bow. Alexander's body, and his horse's neck and head,




BIOGRAPHY.                   27
only appear. The fault of the picture, is, that the principal
characters are too much in the back-ground, and the attention
is continually fixed on other equally conspicuous and warlike
forms. It is a better battle than his Granicus, though it does
not describe the particular action half as well. Mr. Coleman
has nearly the whole of Napoleon's combats; but they are not
designed by a Le Brun; also the principal scenes in Virgil, by
Pinelli, done with great vigor; and where there are but two
or three figures introduced, he succeeds better than in a
crowded battle. One, describing the Volscian maid, Camilla,
killing the horseman, who challenged her to dismount, and
spurred his horse against her, can scarce be excelled; as also
Cacus pulling the bull into his cave, by the tail, that the herdsmen could not tell in what direction he had gone.
Through J. N. Reynolds, Esq., I saw a private gallery of
Mr. Ward, in which there are some good paintings, and some
poor ones. I have become acquainted with several painters,
and Clevenger, the sculptor: whom I accidentally met at Mr.
Ward's. I showed him my Arbela, as he was anxious to see
it, having, he said, heard of me, at Cincinnati.
I have been reading the original letters, in French, from
your grandfather to your father-the impression, apart from
their good style and handwriting, is much the same as I got
from reading the translation. Our relatives are well. John
N. is chief clerk in a hat store; Sidney is in a broker's office,
in Wall street;-any letter you may send, he will forward
to me.
Affeetionately, your son,
S. GENIN.
NEW YORK, July 30, 1840.
DEAR FATHER:-Since writing letters is the "order of the
day", I would like to have something of the kind going on in
the West; if not letters, at least, a newspaper or two would suffice to show how the world stands in Ohio. Since I wrote
last I have been out to Flatbush. It is the most beautiful
place I ever saw; excepting it, our own Belmont County exceeds any other place in rural beauty, I have seen. The Rev.
Thomas Strong was travelling in the West, for the purpose of
recovering his health. His father was at home, but too unwell to afford much satisfaction in conversation. Being in
Clevenger's studio one day, a gentleman there informed me
that Col Trumbull was in the city. I went to his boarding
house, and he had gone a few hours before to Pennsylvania.
I was intending to go to New Haven the next day. He will




28                    BIOGRAPHY.
return in two weeks. I have seen nothing very new in the
painting line, and am going to the east end of Long Island
to day at 4 P. M. in the Sloop Suffolk, Capt. Tuttle. I will
go to Aquebogue, where sleeps one branch of my ancestors, and perhaps to East Hamplon. I had a long talk with
Mr. Waldo, who is considered as among the best painters in
the city  I enquired if he knew Tuthill, the painter. He was
under the impression he was dead; both he and Spencer, who
is also a good painter, objected to Tuthill, that he spent too
much time in indecisive touches, with small brushes, which
gave his pictures any other than a bold appearance; however
this may be, I do not think that Tuthill's portrait of you is often
surpassed.
I was introduced by Mr. J. N. Reynolds to Mr. Gourley the
Secretary of the Apollo Association, and also to Mr. Ridner, its
President. They advised me to open a room, and as Mr. Reynolds said, roll up my sleeves and go at it in Buckeye fashion,
I should like to hear your opinion on that subject. There
would be some difficulties arising from such a course. After
getting into business, every day might increase it, and I thus
be induced to continue in a profession, which, if assiduously
followed, might procure a competence; a profession in which
every cent that is made is by actual labor: in which chance
seldom  operates favorably, but often  unfavorably.  Mr.
Waldo has been painting for forty years, has a good business;
Mr. Spencer has been at the same pursuit twenty years; and
by economy and continued exertion, they can live in moderate
style. To get rich at it one must put on a double price, and
make the mountain groan, if it produces even a mouse. Sully
has had success in this way. Powell is doing well. I would
not mind trying it awhile, though the law is not without its
attractions. The Apollo does not open until Sept. Mr. Gourley and Ridner think I ought to finish some piece that is more
gaudy and pleasing to the mass, than my fancy piece, as I
could not finish my Granicus by that time. They seem to
think very well of my designs.  On looking at them they
enquire who composed the original; as designing any thing,
seems to be among the things that have been, except as to
Trumbull, Peal, and occasionally Sully, and Alston of Boston.
The fancy piece is considered a pretty good picture of the old
sombre style of painting in. shades; but to be in accordance
with the present fashion, and pleasing to the eyes of the present race, the lights should be lighter, thei shades managed so
as to cover but a small space, or else, in Sully's style, to cover
the greatest part, and from the deep shade to turn abrubtly into the brightest light, producing an effect resembling that




BIOGRAPHY.                     29
which comes from the blaze of a candle; while the dress
should consist of silks, satins and tavwdy ornaments, a bunch
of roses bloom in the hair, a book,boquet of flowers, or musical
instrument be held in the hand, and the shoulders and arms
be well covered, least the delicate feelings of the very sensitive, and highly enlightened fashionables should be injuriously affected.
The facilities for painting, here, are more imaginary than
real. The painters here seem to think that copying old pictures, busts, &c., is the only way to become a painter. And
that is the facility so much talked of: just as if the race now
in existence could not copy nature in the same manner as the
authors of these old master pieces. The real facility appears
to me to consist in getting good materials for the business.
They have canvass here for sale, already prepared, almost as
fine as ivory and paints ready ground. 1 have seen the steam
ship British Queen and two large fires, novelties to me. The
Daguerreotype is not much thought of, except for taking views
of houses, copying engravings. and paintings. There is somethingunnatural in the likenesses, possibly the light required,
may distort the muscles of the face and give unsteadiness to
the eye. I saw one representing two standing figures, taken
from life, in oriental costume, engaged in some play: it looked
well, especially the drapery, which appears better in the daguerreotype than vizages. Likenesses are taken for five dollars,
but less is done than one might expect, from the novelty of the
thing, and the attention it has received. Should I meet Col.
Trumbull in New York, on my return fiom Long Island, I shall
not go to New Haven. Mr. Clevenger snd Mr. Ridner advise
me to go to Bo-ton, as it is the emporium of the arts, and will
give me additional letters. Mr. Clevenger's letter will be to
Washington Alston, who is considered the best original painter in the United States. Mr. Ridner's will be to a gentleman,
who will show me all the private galleries there.
Affectionately, your son,
S. GENIN.
ORIENT, August 26, 1840.
DEAR FATHER:-Yours, of the 20th inst, is received. In answer to your inquiries, I have good health. I have heard but little, worth remembering, from most of the painters. Some of
them were communicative, particularly Peale, Waldo, and
Page; but the time being short I had with them, their remarks
were of a general nature; though Page went considerably into
details. I have learned most from a work published by




30                   BIOGRAPHY.
Leonardo de Vinci, which I found in the Merchant's Library,
and which I shall obtain, if possible, in some of the book stores.
Mr. Waldo assented, and so did Page, to the propriety of studying nature, rather than old pictures. Mr. Waldo keeps a portrait room, for exhibition. He enquired my opinion of the pictures. I pointed out those that appeared to be best. He said
I had judged right, and advised me to pursue painting, as those
who could detect faults, and see beauties, could, by proper effort,
make a picture equal to the one he could justly criticise.
When I showed him my miniature of Samuel, he said this
confirmed his opinion. I took him to see some pictures Mr.
Gray's son had sent to his father, from Italy, to whom I had
been introduced by Mr. Ridner, and on the way, speaking of the
advantages of an Europeon tour, he seemed to think it was
chiefly beneficial, as an advertisement, that one was a painter, as
some ostentation was necessary to success. The hook must be
bated with a fly, real or unreal, to catch fish. He says there are
more advantages for painters in New York, now, than there were
in Lond n, forty years ago, when he was a young man. I have
got no new ideas on coloring, but have obtained all I desired
in that line, my old opinion is confirmed. A little lead, mixed
with the colours give them freshness and permanence. Sully's
use of lead is thought to make his shades look muddy. I find
that great excellence is attained by great labor and perseverance. Mrs. Staughton spends several weeks on a miniature,
and seemed surprised when I told her I painted Sam's in two
days.
When I left home I had three or four points to settle, viz:
1st, whether it was spending useless labor in not availing myself more of the experience of the world in past years. 2nd,
whether the method I used in colouring was the most durable,
and whether it was the best method of giving colors their full
brilliancy. 3rd, whether the confusion of figures in my designs
was a fault, or at least considered so by the best masters,
whose opinions I purposed to consult in their works. I have
found the method I was proceeding on in colouring, a good
one, except in the use of lead, which I might use more of, to
advantage. Peale, and Waldo, gave me their opinion as to
what colors are the most durable.  I find in Raphael's battle
of Constantine the same confusion that reigns in the Granicus.
The precepts you taught me, I have found to be the elements
of the art; at least, as far as I have got any knowledge of it.
I have found no picture that equals nature, and none, consequently, as beneficial to copy, or study, unless it be to findd out
by them the above points in question; or, if possible, the man



BIOGRAPHY.                    31
ner in which certain tints have been obtained, which vary
among the greatest painters; but not among their copyists, who,
I am sorry to say, are far the greatest number. The deplorable want of originality among our painters is perhaps owing to
a desire to gain the good graces of the people, by copying their
favorite painters, and aiming to imitate them, and not nature;
as they, in the opinion of many, have attained the highest
point of excellence. Hence, it is seldom you see a Lraine, or
a Raphael. Every thing seems to be embraced in the y-r>
cept: " Follow nature." A battle should have its terrors: its
confusion and fury. A peaceful scene should be all harmony.
The very elements should be in accordant ease and quietude.
Every thing should conspire to carry out the end proposed.
This is nature, and this word as far as I can at present see, includes the elements of design.
I and Sam roomed together, while in Philadelphia.  Our
fellow boarders were mostly southern students. A Mr. George,
who was well acquainted with the St. Clairsville merchants,
boarded at the same house with his family. I formed no acquaintance with any but Mr. George. The dispositions of the
Southerners were as wretched as the institution of slavery in
which they were nourished: the least negligence or disobedience of the servants destroyed their happiness for some time.
Their infirmity of temper made me think they should be
treated with indulgence.
I have no French or Latin books here. I would have
bought some had I known of my stay on the Island. It
occurred to me that I might as well be paid for copying the
countenances of the Long Islanders by way of improving myself in painting, as to copy antique busts for its own reward 
and I have painted a miniature and two portraits in this place,
and received forty eight dollars. As for my clothes they are
somewhat dilapidated.  The cloth has faded niuch, and
while enquiring after permanent colo)rs, I coul.l not but
reflect that my habiliments showed that our manufacturers as
well as painters were interested in the investigation. And that
my external appearance indicated wants in this respect, that
might move the charitable to tell me all they knew about
colors.
I had expected to pass through this Island as a stranger
among the tombs of his ancestors: yet as soon as it was known
who I was, I felt as if I was among old and ardent friends. On
landing at the shore, I enquired for Augustus Griffin, Esq. He
happened to be the man of whom the enquiry was made. On
learning my name he showed an interest in me, which I scarce




82                    BIOGRAPHY.
hoped to see any where, but at home. It was the same with
his family, and some of the neighbors. Many pleasant incidents
have occurred here. Captain John Brown has for some years
quit the ocean. He does things in his own fashion and has
something of the old Homeric sincerity of friendship. A lady
in my room one fine morning exclaimed. There comes Captain Brown to the gate, in his buggy. And dressed as if for a
capital occasion. What can be the matter! The good Captain
had come to give the grand son (my poor self) of his friend,
who had been dead thirty years, a ride; and we rode to several
points, while he hit off in short pithy sentences the strong and
weak points of some persons of whom I had a knowledge, and
explained some particulars of the vehemence, humour, and uprightness of my paternal grand pa, whoseems to have been capable of making lasting impressions. In New York, George Wilson, Esq. received me very cordially,and I spent some hours with
him and his family very agreeably. They are all well. He resides in Park-row. I was several times with D. M. Cowdrey,
Esq. He took me to the different courts, and to the Governors
room in the City Hall. Its walls are covered with full length
portraits of distinguished men. These are the best executed
American paintings I have seen.
Affectionately, your son,
S. GENIN.
AQUEBOGUE, SEPT. 26, 1840.
DEAR FATHER: —I have just returned from Quoag. I went
thither with Mrs. Jane Robinson and her son. On our return,
the horses going verv slow I got out of the carriage and walked ahead. I missed the road; taking one on the right. On
travelling many miles I could not recognize the least thing that
indicated I was in the road I travelled before. It was near
sunset, and I hadnot seen a house, or clearing, for several
miles. The woods were thick and dark. The sand ancle
deep. I turned off at every left hand road I came to, and,
just after dark, reached the shore, dripping with sweat, and
covered with dust, and would not have got thither so soon,
had I not adopted the expedient of trotting for the last few
miles. Through the mists I saw the masts of a schooner, and
heard the splash of an oar. I hallooed and asked how far I
was from the port. They answered, four miles, and that they
were rowing up thither. I was so warm I was afraid to get
on board, and waded through the sand, onward, at a quick
pace, for the mist was thick, and the air cold.  I saw a marsh
ahead, and climbed up the steep bank, that lines the shore




BIOGRAPHY.                    83
from Canoe place to the landing, and for the'first time walked
-on hard land unannoyed by the sand. After scrambling
through thickets, and crossing one swamp, I came to a house,
and being directed, arrived at Mr. Robinson's safe and sound
with the exception of skinned toes and a pair of pumps. So
much for my impatience, I have painted two more portraits,
and reviewed a part of Virgil. The portraits were those of a
wife and her lord. This male was a troublesome subject, and
came near making a sorry figure on canvass by his teasing suggestions; but I would not tinker his wife's to suit him, and
consequently hers was the best, and he was much pleased with
it. H3 desired me to take the likenesses of his children, but
I could not do it just then; amain objection was, that he imposed on me the tribute of reading and praising some speeches he had made in the Legislature, quite respectable, but not
a whit superior to those of Demosthenes or Eschines; so I de-:termined to be off, as the penalty as near as I could judge, was
only about half inflicted. The practice I have had here, has
been of use to me in coloring.  I have worked freer and
bolder, and succeeded better than I probably should have
done in the city, Were:I to paint for nothing, I would be
gainer, as 1 was advised by some of the artists to hire some
one to sit in every possible light, while I copied. To reach
the end by gaining, instead of spending, seems most desirable; at the same time enjoying wholesomeVcountry air, and
seeing different parts of the world. Besides, unless my eyes
deceive me, mankind are not all alike; complexions vary
among different inidviduals, according to their occupation,
blood, or climate. There are more zones than one; more temperaments than one in the human family. Would it not be
well to study these in the living subject-to copy nature in
all its varieties, while studying the pictorial art? and not confine ones self to a room in the dust and dirt of a city, copying one face over and over, like a shoe maker stitching his
leather over one last continually, as though all feet were the
same. Claud, of Loraine could not have confined himself to
copying pictures, or one particular place, he must have gone
into the fields and seen nature in all her variety; in the
stream that rushes swift, or moves slow; in the calm of a summer eve, or the fury of a roaring tempest. It is to their neglect of nature that I attribute the monotony of features that is
seen in the works of some painters.
Nov. 5th. The above was written some weeks ago. I am
now at Southhold, as you have been informed by my newspapers. I have read considerable French, and some Latin, and
3




3C4                   BIOGRAPHY.
painted nine portraits, since I came hither, averaging abont
three days at each. The plan I pursue is to make a good
drawing, and experiment as to the coloring. In some, I have
made very lucky hits. They are fine subjects for the exercise
of the pencil. On some, I put the paint thick, on others thin.
Here they are,; and here will long remain; and in. a -few
years I can return, and note the result of my experiments. I
board where I paint: and my expense is nothing. I have
three more to paint, and then I will go to New York. You
need make no remittance to me. I intend to keep the balance
of trade, so far as I am concerned, in favor of Ohio. Direct
your nextletter to New York. While at Captain Hildreth's, (I
have been so unused to being among relations it seems awkward
to say cousin,) I designed a virgin and child, and copied yournephew's infant son, who looks out fresh and fair from the virgin's arms. He is as fine a babe as I ever beheld. My desire
to take home the portrait of the child caused the design. I
shall leave this Island in ten or twelve days. It was not my
intention to have remained here long; but the people are so
agreeable, I have been induced to continue among them until
now, and feel reluctant to leave them.
NEW HAVEN, 13th Dec., 1840-HON. BENJ'N. RUGGLES, ESQ., &c., &c., &c.
SIR-Your favor of the 12th June was put into my hands a
few days ago, by Mr. Sylvester Genin. I have seen specimens
of his talents, which sufficiently show that his friends have not
overrated them; but considering the natural results of our institutions and of the national character; both of which are
opposed to the transmission of great masses of property,
successsively from generation to generation, and the uncer.
tianty of popular favor, I have advised him, (as my friends
advised me.) to make the study and practice of law his great
pursuit, and the art of historical painting the amusement of
his hours of leisure.
Experience has taught me that my friends were right; but I
could not see with their eyes, and he perhaps will reluctantly
submit to see with mine.
Wishing you health and prosperity, I am, sir,
Your obliged and faithful servant, and'friend,
JOHN TRUMBULL,.
The opinion of Mr. Trumbull was confirmed by the observations of the young artist. In a letter which he addressed to



BIOGRAPHY.'35
his friend, Hugh Anderson, just afterwards, he illustrates his
opinion by reference to facts, and circumstanees, and in his
letter above of 19 July, he writes as if laboring under the
same conviction as to the pecuniary results of artistic labors.
NEW HAVEN, Dec. 16, 1840
MR. HUGH ANDERSON:
DEAR SIR-You must pardon my tardiness in:writing toyou,
as the delay was occasioned not by forgetfulness of you, but a
want of tinme; as you are aware, everything is new to me in
these parts, and the objects various which engage my attention,
and absorb my time. I have seen nearly all the paintings of
merit in New York, Philadelphia and New Haven. I have
ascertained, sufficiently, the degree of patronage extended towards the fine arts; and have concluded, that the profession
of painter, considered in a pecuniary point of view, is not
worth following. There is an apparent patronage of the arts
viz: the purchasing of pictures on account of their low price;
low in appearance only, while works of merit, which have cost
time and labor are neglected;and inducements thus held out to
artists to produce such works, as require little labor and time.
Perhaps an instance or two may not be amiss: In the State
House here, there is a copy of the signing of the Declaration,
for which the State paid 500 dollars; It is not onlya.disgra.ce
to the room it is intended to adorn, but a satire on those who
purchased it; a satire rendered more pungent from the fact,
that Col. Trumbull, its original designer, was still living, and
would have furnished them a valuable painting, had they rewarded him sufficiently for his time and labor. The fact also
that Col. Trumbull had to give his original designs to Yale
College, after having vainly offered them for a long time for
sale to the American people. National subjects,too. Scenes
in which he had participated; and in which he not only
describes the action, but introduces the forms and features of
the actors; men and actions, which it is the interest, and, I
should think, the duty of this Republic to preserve. These
have been neglected; and why? Because the painter of them,
after having travelled through England, France, and the United
States, to obtain the portraits of the actors in the Revolution,
could not sell them for as low a price, as less costly productions, such as copies, might be obtained for. Whatinducement is
there, then, to follow the historical branch of the art? When
we see even national subjects disregarded, and even Legislatures defrauding the painter of the reward of his labors,, by




36                    BIOGRAPHY.
employing poor copyists to furnish a mere representation of
them. Col. Trumbull told me that he studied the pictorial art
chiefly for the purpose of painting the battles of the Revolution, relying on the spirit of the nation for the reward of so
arduous an undertaking; but, as he expresses it, "they care no
more for the actors in the Revolution than you would for a
parcel of oyster-shells after the oysters are extracted." Having
thus showed the encouragement and success attendant on the
labors of the historical painter, I shall proceed to show the
result of my observations as to the consequences of following
the profession of portrait painting as a business. If followed
steadily and assiduously it might ensure a livelihood; but to
follow it with success you must descend from the rank of
a copyist of nature to the subtle arts of a courtier; flatter
the vanity and conform to the bad taste of patrons; paint many
portraits of editors, and distinguished men for nothing, to appear
as though you had the patronage of the great, and contrive by
some means or other to keep before the public eye. By following
this course assiduously, and being economical, if one of fortune's
peculiar favorites you may perhaps have enough left for support,
when palysing age has compelled the relinquishment of the pallet
and the pencil for the staff and the crutch. In support of this
opinion, I will merely advert to the condition of a few of the
most successful portrait painters in this country, passing over
the unknown mass whose talents have been smothered by the
depressing and all absorbing cares of life. Among those who
stand eminent among the fortunate artists of the day is Thos.
Sully, who is believed to be pretty well off, and of whose pictures I chanced to speak to Col. Trumbull, mentioning a fault
which I thought was in some of his pictures. He answered
that Mr. Sully was a man of fine talents, but was compelled
by the necessity of supporting his family, to work quick, and
could not afford to devote much time on any particular piece;
that by unexampled success, he acquired a small amount of property; but was not independently rich. Peale is supposed to
be in tolerable circumstances; Waldo is ditto; but distinguished as Waldo and Jewett are, as portrait painters, I was
told by the cousin of the former, that during three or four
months in the summer of 1839, they had but one portrait to
paint. Spencer, another painter, who is considered among
the lucky, after fifteen or twenty years of labor, has had the
astonishing good luck to complete the payments on a house he
lives in on Canal street, and is just commencing to lay up a
little cash, with constitution injured by excessive confinement.
When I called, with a friend, to see him, I noticed he had more




BIOGRAPHY.                    37
business on his hands than painters in general. He was painting a man's family for a piano, an article useless to him, but
still better than nothing. Finally, I shall quote the words of
Col. Trumbull, to show you his opinion concerning himself:
I would have been a beggar had I wholly relied on painting
for my support."  West, though apparently possessed of all
possible advantages, and patronized by a great King, died
poor. What temporal advantages I would ask then, has the
painter? Has he half the influence among men in general that
the hoarse-voiced, mean-minded, knavish, pettifoging politician
has? If he is a talented man, he will have the respect of the
intelligent; but to the world, at large, he is an inoffensive
creature, who can neither do harm or good. The conclusion
I have come to, therefore, is to follow that profession which
gives temporal advantages as the main business of life, while that
which gratifies the mind, and the imagination, is rendered
subservient and of secondary importance; and it is my opinion,
as also the opinion of Col. Trumbull, that by practising the
law, I would have more leisure to paint a historical piece.
I cannot at present bear the idea of confining myself some
half dozen years in a room, abandoning all historical compositions, painting one phiz after another; this one in the style
of the Florentine School, and that, after the manner of Sir T.
Reynold's, Sully, &c., figuratively speaking, I cannot swallow
the idea; my feelings repel it, as the stomach repels the sickening emetic. There is, however, a pleasing delusion, an enchanting spell, hovering around the temple of art: The glory
of a Raphael, an Angelo, and a Da Vinci, is an allurement
which deceives the unwary; It is a siren voice that is apt to
lead astray the unsuspecting: those, I mean, who do not consider that there is a time when, and a place where, the arts
may be safely and profitably followed; and I am satisfied the
place is not here, and the time is not the present, when gold
purchases honors, shields crime, and decides, in a measure, the
fate of elections; to succeed in which, thousands desert the
principles they believe in. When a whole nation worships
gold, is it strange the arts should be neglected? Is it strange
that a soldier of the Revolution, who had given the labors of
a long life to an institution in the State of Connecticut should
be overlooked by that State, when a picture was wanted to
adorn the walls of its capitol? And why overlook him? What
principle were they governed by intheir choice? Was it honor?
No; that would have led them to select the man to whom they
were obligated? Was it taste? Certainly-not; they would
have selected the same had that been their guide. What was




88                    BIOGRAPHY.
it then that governed their decision? It wa gold; influenced
by that, they overlooked both taste and honor, and determined
their decision so as to wrest as little as possible of the dear
object of their affections from their greedy hands.
The Daguerreotype is much used in these parts, and,; I understand is likely to become: mnore useful than was at first expected. Drapery, busts, pictures and buildings seem to be its
best subjects. I saw in News York a picture of a man and
lady walking on a heath, which was said by its possessor to
have been taken from life; and there was but one thing that
seemed to show that. it was a copy of a picture, viz: the flow
of the drapery, which could not have been supported long
enough in one position to have' been retained by the- Daguerreotype. The portraits made by it are seldom good; the eye
appears blurred, and often of a pale white. The main defect
however of the Daguerreotype is that you cannot take near and
distant objects at the same time: one or the other is generally
blurred, owing to the focus of the lens not suiting both at once.
In the sky of one piece that was taken near'sun set, the pure
yellow, purple-tinge-d color of an evening sky was almost accurately retained, which is sufficient evidence that color can
be retained as well as mere shadow.
Animal magnetism, as far as I can learn, is among the things
that were. I was told in Pittsburgh, that Doctor Underhill,
who had wrought such miracles in Wheeling, had so expended
his magnetic powers in'that place that all his mysterious manipulations were of no avail in Pittsburgh. He got but one
asleep, and then, as though the spirit had suddenly left him, all
his subsequent efforts were of no account, though a large price
was offered foi one more successful attempt. It is probable,
nevertheless that there is something in it; but public expectation was too much raised at first, and of course, being disappointed, they abandoned the subject entirely, without examining
its merits, and are unwilling to think about it.
Among the most interesting collections of paintings I have
seen, is the Trumbull Gallery. Here is a picture of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, about two feet by three,
and is the oily one Trumbull ever painted. It is of exquisite
finish, and must have taken immense li bor. The Battle of
Bunker's Hill, Death of Montgomery, Battle of Princeton, and
surrender of Cornwallis, in which last he has introduced his:
own portrait, are all near the same size as the first; and all
show great care in the composition and execution. There are
two or three others, viz: The Surrender of Burgoyne, aid
Washington resigning his Commniission, which are later works,




BIOGRAPHY.                    39
of good design, but much inferior in execution to the former,
as indeed all his later works are; but the spirit of the design
is as vigorous as in the former, if not more so. There are
also here some original designs executed with fidelity, and as
true imitations of life, are equal, if not superior to the best I
have seen. One is the woman who was taken in adultery,
and brought before Christ:-the confusion and disconcertedness, attendant on the response of Christ, is finelv delineated
on their vizages. Christ blessing the little children, is also of
full size, and is well done, though rather florid in its coloring,
There are also many others here of various sizes; among which,
conspicuous as a vigorous design, is the figure of Joshua, attended by Death, hanging on the rear of the men of Ai. It is
poorly drawn, but it is a bold and striking piece, and is among
his best performances. A few portraits and miniatures in oil,
complete this collection. I do not admire the coloring of his
portraits there is a redish tinge, and a sameness of complexion in all of them, which does not exist in his historical paintings. His drawing of the face is always perfect.
I have visited Col. Trumbull two or three times since I have
been here: he is very frail, and has painted none for a year.
He is a very aoreeable man in his conversation. He has a
large library, which he has collected during his long life, composed principally of French, Italian, and Spanish, works. He
employs himself in reading; and is getting engravings made
of drawings executed at different periods of his life, for the
purpose, as I understood him, of publishing them in a history of
his life. He advised me to pursue the law for a livelihood, and
if I followed painting, to draw for a few weeks from the antique statues in the Academy of Arts, in New York. or Philadelphia, and as far as colors are concerned, to use only in the
flesh tints, no brighter red than Indian red; no yellow, brighter
than Roman ocher, burnt umber, Prussian blue, black and
white.
Yours, with respect,
S. GENIN.
P.S. My health has been uniformly good. I had prepared to go to Boston; but it is doubtful whether it would be
of any advantage to me to do so. It would only gratify my
curiosity; though I might get some hints from W. Alston,
whom all acknowledge as the head of the arts in this country.
I have a letter to him. The benefit of going is uncertain,
while the time and expense is certain. Col. Trumbull thinks I
might as well go, as I have got this far. If I go, I shall be there




40.                   BIOGRAPHY.
two or three weeks; if not, I shall be home in four or five
weeks. I arrived here on the ninth of December. New Haven is a pretty city, and more preferable as a residence than
Philadelphia, or New York. The number of students gives it
a lively appearance. Yale College contains at present, 574
students. You perceive I am as slow to leave off writing, as
lam to begin. Give my best respects to your family. Pardon my
awkwardness in sealing this letter, so as to tear the writing.
Col. Trumbull says that there is no such thing in nature as bright
colors, such as carmine, vermillion; that is, in the human face
but Stuart, the best painter of heads I have seen, used vermillion.  Waldo, and Jewett, also use it. Rembrandt Peale
also uses vermillion, and madder lake. When I arrived in
Philadelphia, I called on Mr. Parker, Senr. He was well, and
also the family. He was quite busy brushing off the dust; for,
as he said, business being dull, something must be done to kill
time. I spent a few weeks quite pleasantly in Philadelphia,
but found report always exaggerated things, making the fair
more beautiful, or the ugly more horrid, especially when the
report concerned pictures. I expected to see in the pictures
here, mimic life, wanting only vitality, to render them perfect:
but alas, I found nothing but paint, and that not always used to
the best advantage. I have seen, nevertheless, some few real
representations of life; some designs that are admirable; first
among which, as a design merely, is West's Death on the Pale
Iorse. I think if you were to send some of your maps here,
(the one containing both the modern and ancient names of places) you would find a ready sale. The numerous schools and
institutions would consult their own interest by purchasing
them. I have.spoke of this map to several gentlemen, who think
well of the plan, and consider it just the work that is needed..
NEW HAVEN, Dec. 19th, 1840.
DEAR FATHER:-Yours of the 29th ult., and that of 25th.
July, I have taken from the post office here. I am pleasantly
situated in front of the College, at Mrs. Woodworth's boarding house, at $3,50 per week. There are some eight or nine
students here, with whom I have contracted but little acquaintance. I have been to see Col. Trumbull three times.
He received me well. 1 shewed him my designs. He said I
had grasped at too much at once; that it was a subject capable
of puzzling the most expert.  He said one should work at
single figures some time before undertaking to manage such
masses. He liked the drawing of the little miniature of yours,




BIOGRAPHY.                   41
taken hastily by candle light the evening before I left home,
and seemed to think more of the fancy portrait, mly third attempt in oil, than of the Granicus. He seemed to think it impossible for one so young to compose a piece purely original.
He said they might think it was so, (original), and he could
not recognize any, figure that he had seen before. It gratifies
me much to have my works taken for performances of the old
masters. Col. Trumbull merely insinuated it. Waldo, while
looking at the Arbela, said, "surely you must have had access
to some print or other to get these horses, they have so much the
style of the old masters' though he did not recognize any of the
figures as old acquaintances. After I had assured him, however,
that they were all of my own conception, their style vanished,
and I was wasting time and labor in attempting to do that
which older artists hardly dare undertake. Indeed I should
be out of all conceit of them if I had not understood the real
opinion of the judges, before I gave them to understand that the
paintings were not only my works, but my own designs. At
last Waldo said, that he, when a young man, used to do such
things for amusement, but found that it was waste of time, and
cautioned me to that effect. 1 am confident, had I been born
and bred in New York, I should never have painted a picture
of much value. When I am among the connoisseurs there it requires some effort of mind to believe I have had the boldness
to attempt what I have actually performed. There is in the
Trumbull Gallery of paintings nearly all of his own original
designs. They are finely executed, and of great richness of
color. There are two of peculiar interest to me. One executed when he was eighteen years old; the other shews his method of coloring: at one end it is completely finished, diminishing by degrees in its finish, until at the other end, it becomes
mere outline. His method is, first, on the white ground to draw
the outline, second, slightly to tinge the drapery, flesh, hair, &c.,
with the color intended; deepening the whole by little and
little, until the desired depth is attained. He uses considerable white lead, but not near as much as some painters, and it
is of the best quality, flake white; he thinks it the most lasting substance in the picture. The subject of the half finished
picture, is the battle of Princeton. There is more fury in soldiers and horses, and I think it is better than the one he finally
completed; which, in comparison with this, is tame and spiritless. On my next visit to Col. Trumbull, I asked why he had
altered such and such figures fiom the vigorous to the tame.
He said he would have preferred leaving it as it was originally;
but that he could not get the drawing to suit him, and that he




42                    BIOGRtAPHY.
preferred sacrificing one to obtain the other; but it appears to
me, that he sacrificed the poetic and lofty, to obtain a more
tfowing rhyme. Raphael, however, got both, also Le Brun,
showing that this is not impossible, if perseverance is unabated,
and can't kept out of the road. He advised the use of Indian
red: the red in the human face being no brighter than that.
Burnt umber, black, white, yellow ochre. But I see in Stuart's
faces, vermillion; Waldo, also uses it, and Peale. Stuart's heads,
that I have seen, are superior to any. Your two of Tuthill's,
are superior to any he has left on Long Island: but to return
to the gallery. There is there a picture, as I have before stated,
composed and executed by Col. Trumbull when he was eighteen years old. The figures he took from prints:; but arranged
them in the piece, in his own way, I'shall not decide on its
merits. The two principal colors are blue, and red. The subject is the death of Paulus Emilius at Canae. It was made before he had any instruction. The figures being selected from
other pieces, I ctnnot judge what he could have done at an
original composition. When in Coleman's room, in NewYork,
one day, I unfolded my fancy portrait, and he placed it on the
wall. He thought it pretty well done for a beginner. * A gentleman entering, walked up and looked at it, and said that he
took a fancy to it, and enquired the price of Coleman, supposing it to be his. I was then at some distance. 0, says Coleman, that is not mine; that young man painted it, pointing to
me. The gentleman turned away immediately, and looked as
though he had lost time, and exposed himself finely, in Leing
so imprudent, as to express his admiration of a picture, before
knowing who painted it.
I cannot see into Col. Trumbull's preferring the fancy portrait to the Granicus; Waldo's preferring and apparently considering the little drawing I have of you a greater achievement
than all my designs, and at the same time supposing I had
copied them from the old masters. I remember, while unrolling them, of casting Hammond's and your's aside, remarking,
that they were mere portraits, and at the sametime presenting
the designs; without thinking of the fact that Waldo had, for
forty years, diligently followed the making of mere heads. I
have since thought that he may have been trying to instil into
me a greater respect for heads than I appeared to have; for
when, to show my regard for his especial vocation, I discoursed
on the difficulty of getting the expression and contour of the
human face, he evidently thought I was very reasonable, and
gave more praise to my portraits than I could have rationally
expected.




BIOGRAPHY.                    43
I did not return to New York until the time for receiving
pictures at the Apollo, the 1st Sept., was passed. They must
be received before that time to be registered in the catalogue.
I did not know of this rule until my return to the city; but I
do not regret it; for if I engage in the practice of the law,
the less I am known as an artist the better. The fame of the
painter is, like Napoleon's idea of history, an agreed fable, and
I care not to be the subject of wrangling opinions, for the
present. Your letter of July, which reached me at New
Haven, mentions some persons on Long Island, whom you
desired me to visit. I met with some of them; but not with
Fanning and Woodhull. probably; though some called to see
me, or my paintings, whose names I did not learn, or do: not
remember. MIany of my customers there, would have been
better pleased with a florid daub, than a painting. The best
I made was the last, supposing I could lose nothing by doing
it well, as it would not deter others from employing me, because I was just leaving the place. It was the portrait of
Captain'W-, in whose vessel I came to New York. He
told me he would settle with me there. When we reached the
city, he paid me all but eleven dollars, and he told me he was
not satisfied with the painting, and that he was out of money.
I shall request him to bring it to the city, for me to retouchi
When I get it in my hands, I will refund what he has paid; as
it is worth a third more than I charged for it; and take it to
Ohio. It is worth, at least, forty dollars. I doubt whether I
shall go to Boston, though I would like to see Washington
Alston, to whom I have a letter, given me by Mr. Ridner, the
President of the Apollo. Clevenger seemed anxious that I
should see Alston, and that be should see my designs. If I go,
I will send to you a newspaper from a town east of this places
I went, about the 20th August, in a sloop, from Orient, across
Gardener"s bay, to Amaganset, and walked some four miles
through the sand, to East Hampton, that looks out on broad
Ocean, to see a cousin of your mother's, or rather the place
of her nativity. My memory placed what you lad said of the
Hedgeses, of New Jersey, to the account of those: of East
Hamipton. On entering the town, I asked some one where
David Hedges lived? He aniswered that there  erer threes of
that name in the place. The one, said I, that has a son in a
medical college. He directed me to the David, late of the
New York Legislature. I called, and to be certain that I
was at the right man's house, asked him if he had a son at a
medical college? He replied, he had. I then told himt whoI
was, and to quicken his powers of recognition, stated that you




44                    BIOGRAPRY.
called on him, last summer. He said you had not called:
that he had a remembrance of you, but had not seen you for a
long time-not since you were a boy; and but for a book,
handed to him by some one, of which you was the author, he
would not have known even where you lived. He invited me
to spend some days with him; showed me a portrait taken
of him, by Spencer; and he and his wife seemed agreeable
enough; but why he should deny that you had called on him,
and say that he did not much like your passing by him, on the
other side of the island, last summer, when I was sure that
you had called on a Hedges, who had a son at a medical college, and be correspondently slow in comprehending my first
allusions to you, brought on such doubts as to the propriety
of accepting his hospitality, that I set out in two hours, in spite
of remonstrances, for Sag Harbor, where I slept. The next
morning, I crossed over to Shelter Island, which I traversed
on foot; thence, over the ferry, to Greenport; walked along
the shore, to Orient, and arrived at friend Griffin's in the
afternoon, with well exercised limbs and a keen appetite.
When Mr. Griffin informed me that you and mother went up
the north side of the island, without going to East Hampton,
I perceived that a Hedges, having a son at a medical college,
did not necessarily make him the identical Hedges on whom
you had called.
At Aquebogue, I found, in the graveyard, the tombs of your
father and mother, that of his first wife, and that of the child,
Sylvester, by his third. I took a pencil sketch of the homestead and the tombs, and copied the inscriptions.
Col. Trumbull says he has written to Judge Ruggles, stating
the advice he gave me. He says a painter is made by practice,
and cannot be taught; that painting is a dangerous sea to.
sail on; that of the numbers who had attempted, few had
succeeded; that in his designs he had always dropped his
imaginary figure, if he could not draw it correctly: which
appears to me to be yielding to a difficulty that perseverance
might overcome. I respect much the advice of Col. Trumbull,
as it is such advice as comports with age, always cautious and
considerate; but excessive caution is as injurious in its effects
sometimes, as rashness. Old men have seldom attempted what
requires the greatest possible vigor and perseverance in execution. When a youth makes a leap, he does it without
thinking of all the accidents that may possibly attend it. If
he were to consider all the consequences that might follow,
he would never make the leap. Imagination can always pro



BIOGRAPHY.                   45
duce difficulties without number, which ardent action and
perseverance overlook.
Affectionately, your son,
S. GENIN.
The commentary of the father, on some matters in the foregoing letters, is contained in the following extract from a letter to the son, dated, St. Clairsville, Dec. 27, 1840.
DEAR SON:-Yours of the 16th, to Mr. Hugh Anderson,
was handed to me, by him, on the 22d. Yours, to me, of the
19th, reached me on the 24th inst. Mr. Anderson seems to
think Col. Trumbull has no good cause of complaint against
this nation. There may be some petty vexations, such as the
Connecticut Legislature's overlooking him, through notions of
economy; but, considering the nature of things, the habits and
education of the people, the infancy and poverty of the United
States, just after the war of the revolution, the country has
done as much for him as could reasonably have been expected.
There is probably no man, whatever his success may have
been, that is satisfied with it, or with the appreciation of him,
or his works, by the world. Napoleon was not. His conversations with O'Meara, and Las Cases, are attempts to enlighten
mankind on this matter. Benjamin West, it is said, died poor.
There is a direct tendency to poverty, in all who pay but
little attention to money after they get it; who adopt no
measures to make it productive, and are deficient in economy
and management. Heirs of large estates, without cultivating
painting or poetry, frequently, soon find their patrimony evaporated. Great lawyers, notwithstanding the lucrativeness of
their profession, have often died poor; for a leaky bucket will,
at length, be found empty. Judge Ruggles has shown to me
Col. Trumbull's letter of the 13th Dec., inst., stating that your
friends have not overrated your talents as a painter; but on
account of the nature of our institutions, and the uncertainty
of popular favor, he has advised you, as his friends advised
him, to make the study and practice of law your chief pursuit,
and historical painting, the amusement of your leisure hours.
There is nothing in this advice but what I expected. I would
not advise one to attempt an epic poem, or even to cultivate
poetry beyond a portion of one's leisure, yet I would not annihilate what I have done in poetry, or abandon its enjoyment,
for any pecuniary consideration. I should dislike the respon



46                    BIOGRAPHY.
sibility of advising one to a course, in which the chances of
failure so far outnumber the chances of success: and in which,
success itself is scarce discoverable, except by-posterity. The
same feeling makes one distrust his own judgment, when he
views what seems excellencies in the higher efforts of literature, and the arts, if made by a contemporary, as to whose
merits the world have not yet agreed. I do not recollect of
any one speakifig otherwise than discouragingly to me of the
NAPOLEAD, except De Witt Clinton, and Dr. Samuel L.
Mitchell, who at the same time cautioned me against expecting
any temporal advantages from it. My literary friends, of less
capacity, while they professed to admire my short pieces, could
see nothing but presumption in my attemptinz an epic. This is
so natural. that I am surprised to have found an exception, or
a Clinton; for I am not sure but he determined the opinion of
Dr. Mitchell. You have seen that Col. Trumbull's views
accord with my own, as repeatedly expressed; consequently
the object of your tour to the East has, to me, lost nothing of
its importance. I wish you to see W. Alston, and the Bostonians: 1 do not insist on your going thither-do as you think
best. I have a notion that Alston can weigh contemporary
with ancient merit, unclouded by the vapors that annoy inferior
minds, however honest in purpose. This idea may be erroneous; still, to be so near, what you term, the emporium of the.arts, and not enter it, might be regretted. You should visit
Baltimore and Washington. There are some excellent paintings in those cities. It is important that you should hear
Henry Clay, in one of his high efforts. It would enable you
to appreciate what has been said of Demosthenes, and Cicero;
and to read the speech of the latter against Verres, with increased interest; to distinguish the orator from the bawler;
nature from affectation; ardor, sincerity, and force, from
mouthing, scowling, and emphasizing. It is astonishing how
few of the vast number, at the bar, pulpit, and senate, become
even tolerable orators. Marmontel has said, that nature, exhausted by the effort to produce a Demosthenes, or Cicero,
seemed to need the rest of a thousand years. I want you to
hear Mr. Clay, for the same reason that I did not want you to
go too early among the mass of modern artists and connoisseurs.
The contagion of lofty example will not dwarf one's genius;
but give it energy. Much that is practiced and said, in reference to poetry and the arts, is not calculated to make a great
poet, or artist; and should not be known or seen by the pupil,
until, by keeping better company, he has acquired a strength
of poetic, or artistic constitution, which cannot easily be af



BIOGRAPHY.                    4T
fected, or corrupted. Your letter of the 19th inst. illustrates
the ground of my objection to your earlier taking your present
tour. You say, " you are confident, had you been:born and
bred in New York, you would never have painted a picture, of
much value,"  Your experience has thus verified my apprehensions, founded on the history of the past; not doubting that
there was a cause for the greatest painters, as well as the
greatest poets, existing in the infancy of nations, or while in
their ascent, and before their decline, and before stupidity, by
tacit consent of the masses, is permitted to form rules for the
goovernment of the motions of genius. I would not inspire a
contempt for mankind; but their boasted reason encounters so
many disturbing forces, thatshe, with difficulty, sits uprightly
on her throne.  Envy, and jealousy, less often disturb, than
weakness and pusillanimity. In my youth, knowing the range
of the reading of some literary friends, I offered for their
opinion, a few lines of poetry, from an author of established
reputation, as if they were my own. They were considered
faulty-even ungramattical; because the judges did not understand the application of what we style the adverbial adjective,
which gives such force and beauty to our language. When I
offered them some lines of my own, as the composition of the
same author, they could discover no defect, though there actually was a small onei purposely left for experiment. The falibility of human judgment is such, that it. should never be
allowed to elevate or depress the spirits, but merely be used so
far as the reasons for it have weight to enlighten the understanding. Follow nature, and, if human opinions cannot keep
pace with you, it is their, and notyour misfortune. One should
render.himself independent of patronage. It takes but little
to support, in simplicity, the painter, while he executes immortal works. The real wants of man are easily supplied. Riches
consist less in the number of dollars, than the moderation of
desire. Since discovering your capacity, as an artist, I have
been more careful of property-instead of leaving money in
banks, I have put it out on interest; and for the last four years,
have added something to my estate. The tenants excused my
demand for.security, because they knew so many had gone down
the river, without paying me. There will be enough to support three painters as comfortably as a wise man could wish,
and allow each to have ten children.  I say this from confidence in your prudence, and moderation, believing you would
live about the same, whether possessed of five, or a hundred
thousand dollars. So the prospect of public patronage need




48                     BIOGRAPHY.
not be an element, unless you choose to make it so, of the decision, as to what extent you will pursue the art of painting.
Our elections show how little mankind are controled by
reason. The people are almost-equally divided on every question, as if governed by the law of chances. A copper, tossed a
hundred times, falls nearly as often on one side, as the other;
and heads, or tales, by turns, get, a majority of one to four, in
about the same proportion, as the political parties, notwithstanding the great amount of reasoning on either side. The
cause of this effect, probably is, that people decide from feeling,
or prejudice, first, and then, employ reason, as the slave of prejudice, to support the decision.  Nineteen-twentieths of all
reasoning, oral, and written, is slave labor. Could reason be
emancipated the progress of man towards perfection, would be
greatly accelle:rated. This being the case, it is manifest, that
one must investigate for himself, and rely on his own judgment,
listening to others for reasons, but not for opinions.
NEw  YORK, Jan 1, 1841.
DEAR FATHER-Yours of the 27th ult is received, I am well
and contented by a good fire. I do not like to travel in the
winter, though I wish I was at home, participating in the benefits arising from the Moot Court, and Demosthenian Society.
I am availing myself of the means of information here. The
Mercantile Library is open to me through cousin Sidney C.
Genin. I have been reading the work of Leonardo Da Vinci, containing many useful hints. It is an elementary work on
painting, and gives details a slight notice. His ideas are such
as common sense would dictate. He was leader in the restoration of the fine arts, and the greatness of Angelo and Raphael is attributed much to him. He looks at things as they are,
and keeps the word can't at a distance. He never rejects
ideas of figures because the drawing is difficult. I have concluded that one can do very little at painting, if he searches
with a timid eye for difficulties; because the fanciful mind of a
painter can see, if he has belief, a ghost in every stump and in
an ant-hill an inaccessible height; so by the time our artists
paint portraits for a living, finish their voyage of discovery for
difficulties. and spend due time in regarding them with holy
awe, it is no wonder they do not engage in historical painting.
The substance of the information I have obtained from the
painters, as to historical designs is, that none but the great
masters ever succeeded in such things; that of the numbers




BIOGRAPHY.                    49
that have tried most have failed; that it is presumption to conceive, temerity to attempt, and almost impossible to effect any
thing of importance in this line; and I have reason to believe
that a large portion of those who, on first viewing a picture,
think it is a copy of the old masters, ever after, in their
hearts, believe, whatever may be their professions, thatthe picture is a collection of plagiarized figures; because they cannot conceive how any one should be so rash as to attempt to
draw a man or horse in divers contortions, when it puzzles even
old artists to draw common postures. I am out of the notion
of applying colours unmixed with white. By intercourse with
several painters, I have obtained some useful hints, as to the
chemical effects of mixing colors. What some knew, others did
not. One said carmine always faded, while madder lake and
vermillion lasted bright.'Lake should not however be mixed
with white. In this opinion, all have concurrred. Cole said
that Prussian blue was a very doubtful colour, and, mixed
with vermillion, always destroyed it. This is a good hint to
me, as I have mingled these substances. It was not known to
any other I conversed with, but I would take Cole's opinion
on coloring to be entitled to great respect. Another said that
chrome yellow ought never to be used mixed with white; it was
sure to turn dark in time, one destroying the other. The Apollo was closed yesterday; it will be opened again on the first
of March next. The association purchased several pictures,
two or three of Huntington's which were good; but being short
of funds, they bought some daubs, by way of premium, for unskilfulness, or haste; though the ostensible reason was to increase the number of prizes. In my opinion art would have
been more encouraged by the purchase of one good than many
bad pictures, for no inducement is held forth to spend time and
labor on pictures, if less labored and inferior ones, of easy plrc
duption are more certain of sale.
Young Huntington bids fair to be the best artist in the
country. He has just returned from Italy, and has several fancy pieces and designs, all of them very good, and quite original.
They are chiefly groupes of three and four persons. He drew
them naked, first, and then clothed them. He says sitters of
either sex are easily obtained in Italy for twenty-five cents a
day; but he is in harness for portraits, and those on hand, and
expected, absorb all his time, so that he cannot undertake any
important work of art. He has fifty dollars for a portrait.
I called the other day, to see Cole's four pictures he has been
painting for Ward. They are beautiful landscapes.  Cole was
quite affable: he explained the allegorical figures. During the
4




50                    BIOGRAPHY.
interview, I told him that I had the pleasure of seeing his first
performances. He remembered you; said you called to see
some of his pictures; and that he had to struggle hard in those
times. Captain W. cameinto port a few days ago, with his sloops
and did not bring his portrait; and says, he would not give a
shilling for it. He offered to pay two dollars if I would relinu
quish all further claim. I did not accept his proposal. He is
evidently pleased with his portrait; and is manoeuvering to
filch a few dollars. I would sue him here, were it not a; small
business. This is all that saves him for the present. He must
disgorge at last, poor fellow. I think of presenting this claim
to friend Griffin. He has a convenient apparatus for sweeping
elean the pocket of W. of these coveted pence, in, a son, who pra~e
tices law in the county where he resides. The fact of his holding the claim, would, of itself, relieve the Captain from temptation, to such a degree, as to render the employment of the
apparatus, perhaps unnecessary. This ill wind would, thus, help'
a friend, and repair a cracked fiddle, and put it in tune again i
for the Captain has a considerable conscience, if I judge rightly
from his words and looks, which gives him hard thwacks. He
first said he had forgotten to bring the portrait. When
rubbed against the grain, a little, he said, he did not feel bound
to bring it. When in port before, and I showed a lamb-like
passiveness in my disappointment, he praised the accuracy of
my likenesses to a Pearl Street merchant, with whomi he had
some business relations, so much, that the merchant desired to,
employ me to copy a portrait of his uncle, at New London, and
then cross over the sound to Mattatuk, and, take another, from
life, of his father. It seemed as if he was disposed to restore, in
this way,what he had been tempted to unjustly withhold. I think
therefore, that he is a sinner that may be saved. Though the:
temptation of eleven dollars seems small, yet the event shows;
it surpassed the poor Captain's powers of resistance. It was
more operative on him, than eleven millions would have been
on a great or magnanimous soul.  I declined doing the painting for the merchant, as you wished me not to be diverted from
the object of my tour, by an ambition to keep the balance of
trade in favor of Ohio.
Mr Anderson should send on two or three of his maps to the
principal book stores, and publish, or cause to be published,
some paragraphs, praising, criticizing, and explaining it. A
map, showing at one view, the ancient and modern boundaries
of countries, and their ancient and modern namesj few general
readers would dispense with, after comprehending its utility.
Reality, in simple dress, is uniregarded, while often, the unreal




BIOGRAPHY.                    51
arrayed in splendid guise, is sought with avidity. This is called
the age of humbugs. It isprobable human nature is unchanged.
It seems necessary to spread your banners, and sound the
trumpet. Unless a work, however meritorious it be, is assisted
in its progress by some such means, it will not be known to the
public, in; time to do the author much good. A notice in some
of the most popular papers of New York, with an influential
name attached to it, would sell more maps than the offer of a
large commission for obtaining purchasers. It is astonishing
how the opinions of men are governed by such a thing. A few
days ago, a notice appeared from the pen of S —-, lauding
a young artist very much; placing him even along side of Cole.
I have never seen any of his works; but, they are said to be indifferent. Mr. R-, remarked, he knew some days before, what
would follow the artist's presentation to the editor of two landscapes. Afterwards, on conversing of the arts, the young man
was named as having made great advancement, and was almost
equal to Cole; that his merit was such as to elicit the most
flattering notice from Mr. S —-, &c.,
Enclosed is an account between myself and my pocket book.
It speaks for itself. The funds on hand are in pure gold.
The board now due, makes a hole in the balance of seven dollars.  My newspapers will keep you informed of my where
about.
I left New Haven on the 21st of December.  In the steaim
boat, Captain Luther Hildreth was a passenger. He left his
sloop at New Haven, laden with two thousand bushels of oysters, which he brought from York River, Va.  He thinks the
profit of the voyage will be about one thousand dollars.
The growth of oak, which succeeded the pine, cut off by your
brother John N.,.at6Red Creek, about thirty years ago, was sold
recently by his widow, for near twelve hundred dollars. It is
said, when this black oak is cut down, it will be succeeded by
pine. I was not aware that nature thus indicated a change of
crops. If I visit the Island a few years hence, I will examine
this tract.
PHILADELHIA, Feb. 1, 1841.
DEAR FATHER-I am thus far on my way home. I left
New York on the 27th, after having visited our friends, in
New Jersey, a couple of weeks, which I spent very agreeably.
I there took a pencil sketch of Judge Wm. Woodhull, and his
wife, Elizabeth Hedges, from their portraits in the old mansion,
now occupied by his s)n John.. I forgot the genealogical tree,
whose trunk is in Wales, with the name spelled Woad'l. They
equalled the Long Islanders in friendly attention.  *  *




52                    BIOGRAPHY.
While last in New York, I went with Mr. Butler one evening, to the New York University, to hear Senator Southard
hold forth; but you have seen an account of this speech. The
hall was crowded when we arrived:a chair was procured
however for Mr. Butler, which he required me to occupy, and
another was then got for him; so, I was very comfortably
situated, for seeing and hearing, as well as gratified with the
polite attention of one whom his fellow citizens treated with
so much respect. I visited, with some members of his family,
a private gallery of paintings belonging to a Mr. Reed; it
contains many fine paintings, and an admirable collection of
engravings; among the latter is Raphael's battle of Constantine; Leonardo Da Vinci's Last Supper;for which Mr. Reed
gave one hundred and ten dollors. It is considered the best
engraving in the world, and is an extraordinary piece. Among
the paintings, there are five, by Mr. Cole, representing the
course of empire; and fine pictures they are. There is a boldness of design, and richness of color in them that is uncommon. The first, represents man in a wild and barbarous state.
In the foreground, a savage has just pierced a deer, with his
arrow, and is running towards his prey; while, in the distance,
a group of savages is seen, with their implements for hunting.
The second scene is on the same ground; but instead of extreme savages, there are seen Shepherds with their flocks.The third, represents a city, built on the same ground. It is
beseiged, and troops, blood, and carnage, are exhibited. The
bridges, surcharged, are falling with the weight of fugitives.
A galley is sinking in one place, and burning in another.
The horrors of war are well depicted, and forcibly strike the
spectator. The fourth, represents a triumph; there, all is joy,
beauty, and grandeur. The galleys, with their painted sails,
the soldiers with their glittering arms, among the waving of
flags, and trophies, as they gleam in the sun, form a magnificent prospect. The fifth, is that city in ruins. The soldiers
standards. and trophies, have disappeared; rank weeds, and
moss-encircled fragments of columns, have taken their place.
The figures are small, without much beauty of drawing. They
are remarkable only for landscape effect.
Rembrandt Peale was married lately, and will go to Europe
in the Spring. I have shown him the Granicus; it seemed to
impress him as it has others. A suspicion of plagiarism from
the old masters, succeeded by hesitation, and want of faith in
its being my own design, was manifest. I begin to think that
some suppose plagiarism convenient. Possibly it might be to
one of barren imagination, who has access to a great variety




BIOGRAPHY.                   53
of prints; but I am sure if I had the prints, it would cost me
four times the labor to make a piece with plagiarised figures,
than with figures of my own conception, and the design, then,
must be of small scope, if some of the figures were not burlesques on the end proposed. I scarce believed this method of
design practicable in even any degree, until Col. Trumbull declared its employment in one of his early efforts. I certainly
set a much higher value on my paintings than I did before I
left home; while my respect for the opinions of men has consideiably diminished. My desire to see St. Clairsville greatly
exceeds that of ~eeing Baltimore, or Washington, with all its
attractions. But I shall remain here two or three weeks. I
am copying the arms, armour and costume, of various ancient
nations from a work in French, which I found in a public library of this city. I consider this work of more account than
all I have hitherto met with. Before its perusal, and the copying of its plates can be accomplished, Washington will begin to
be crowded with visitors, to witness the inauguration of Gen'l.
Harrison, and instead of getting an opportuuity to hear a
speech from the head of the oratory of America, I shall probably have the luck to only see a profusion of silly heads, and
incur the suspicion of being one of the number. I would
prefer visiting Washington at some other time, when the prospect of getting an opportunity to hear the distinguished
speakers is more favorable than now. Write what you think
of it, I shall call to see S. Colwell, Esq., to-morrow.
Affectionately, yours, &c.,
S. GENIN.
He came home from Philadelphia by the most direct route
on the 20th of February, and thenceforth earnestly pursued
the study of the law, with occasional intermissions for painting, and seldom neglected any opportunities of knowledge, or
mental improvement. He was a frequent, and sometimes, an
instructive speaker at the Lyceums, in St. Clairsville, which
have generally been attended by most of the members of the
bar, and at times, by the Rev Clergy. His fluent elocution,
flute-like voice, originality of conception, and force of reasoning, often witnessed, excited expectation, and drew attention
whenever he rose to speak. These institutions are favorable
to the development of mind; and it is fortunate for the young
men of a village if its elders join in the debates, whether it be




54                     BIOGRAPHY.
for amusement, or to excite a spirit of inquiry, or improvement.
In the spring of 1841, he painted his family in a group, on
canvass already occupied with valuable figures, which he obliterated rather than stretch another canvass on a frame, One
of these figures, a listener, was spared at the intercession of
his father, who saw its danger in time to save it from the
threatening brush: It now stands in front of the group,
a sample of the forms which he was accustomed to throw
away.
In the summer of 1841, he designed the landing of Julius
Casar, in Britain, withIndia ink, on paper, pasted on canvass,
resembling an engraving, 46 by 27 inches. It contains some
forty figures. The principal ones are Caesar, and his standard
bearer; the former with anoratorical, as well as martial air,
standing on a galley, directs the landing of the troops by
means of flat boats, under cover of slingers and archers.
Naked Gauls are acting as boat-men. Some of the soldiers,
who have landed, are in deadly struggl3 with the Britains.
one of whom, having run out on the shaft of his car between
the horses, is wielding a club against a foe in front. The
standard bearer, having leaped into the water, telling the soldiers to follow him, or betray their standard into the hands of
the enemy, is bounding forward, but casting a stern glance
behind, to see that proper support is accorded.
With grace of Cicero's rival, Caesar pours
The sea-borne armies on the bristling shores;
From the beak'd galleys, grounded on the sand,
The naked Gauls, in barks, assist to land;
The standard bearer, leaping in the waves,
Breaks danger's spell.
In the same year he designed the Passage of the Red Sea by
the Israelites. It is painted in oil, 21 by 21 inches. Moses,
in front, extends, with his left hand, the wand over the sea,
while he looks, and stretches his right hand towards heaven,
as sincerely invoking, and confidently relying on celestial aid.
Aaron, and the elders, near, behold him, with solemn confi



BIO3GRAPIY.                        55
dence, as one on whom the safety of all depends; exhibiting
to the multitude an example of reliance on Heaven and their
leader, well calculated to keep them in  subordination to his
orders.  Others behind, not bucdened with the cares of government, seem to have their attention bent on objects of curiosity, or danger. The following fragment has reference to this
piece.
His wand, stretched o'er the sea, he looks to heaven
With faith's assurance, meek, but dignified.
Those next in power, devout attention lend
To that high invocation, big with fate,
And teach the mass to reverence and obey,
Whose grovelling minds prized freedom less than food.
The Death of Julius Cesar is one of his most finished proqductions in oil. It is 22 by 27 inches, and contains some 20
figures.  The principal ones are Brutus, Casca, four or five
other dagger-brandishing conspirators, and Caesar, near Pompey's statue: who, with one hand, is in act to throw his robe
over his head; while he extends the other towards Brutus, as
with mingled sorrow and surprise, he beholds him among his
assassins, and   resigns to  his fate.   In the back ground,
are seen the variously excited vizages of the Roman Senators.
The following lines are illustrative of the subject:
The sculptur'd Pompey views:th' assassin's knife
Upraised to end brave Coesar's glorious life.
The hero's robe inveterate Casca holds:
Th' approach of Brutus treason's depths nnfolds,
Then, graceful in extremity, he throws
A mournful glance at one he sadly knows:
"Et tu Brute!" exclaims, and o'er his face
Swift draws his robe, to end life's fitful race.
The rescue of the American prisoners by Jasper and Newton,
as a design executed on paper, in the Spring of 1842, with
India ink, 22 by 18 inches in size.  It contains fifteen figures.
The two assailants attack the four soldiers on guard, two of
whom have been prostrated; another is falling from lthe effect




56.                   BIOGRAPHY.
of a blow; and uplifted guns are about descending on the
fourth; while the hand-fettered prisoners look on, with various
emotions of hope and fear.
While engaged on this piece, he rode out one day with another young man, in a buggy. The horse run off. His companion jumped from the vehicle without injury, contrary to
what usually happens in such cases; while the artist, holding
the reins, thought to keep the horse in the centre of the road,
and, at length, check his speed as he ascended a hill, some sixty
rods ahead. But the animal took to kicking, while under
great velocity, and disengaged himself from the carriage; its
thills fell to the ground, and met an obstruction, which caused
it to pitch over endwise, throwing the driver in advance, as a
bullet is thrown before a wad. He struck the turnpike at an
angle quite acute, and rolled over and over: a piece from his
coat, at the shoulder, was torn by the percussion; the rim and
crown of his hat were broken; but, except a slight scratch on
the forehead, no wound was perceptible. He was apparently
dead for some minutes, and it was near half an hour before any
blood could be got from his arm. He was somewhat delirious
at times, for a day or two after the accident. In a week, he
was apparently well. His constitution and disposition were
thought to be a little impaired by the shock. He exhibited,
for a year or more afterwards, not the least inclination to
paint, or to finish the piece on which he was earnestly engaged
at the time he went out to take the ride.
In August, 1843, his nervous system received another severe
shock from a dental operation, from which, as from the other, he,
perhaps, never entirely recovered; for if the nervous energy
-the main spring-be reduced from the quality of steel to that
of iron, from any cause, it probably never wholly regains its
pristine elasticity. Through the year 1847, he enjoyed pretty
good health. On the 22d of Dec., of that year, he had sixteen
teeth extracted at one sitting. This injured his health so
manifestly that he did not hesitate to ascribe to the dental
operation of 1843, and the percussion on the turnpike of 1842p
his increased susceptibility to disease. After this third shock
to his system, it seemed quite incapable of resisting the exter



BIOGRAPHY.                    67
nal influences of cold, and other enemies of life. A want of
vigor was observed in him by his family, and felt by himself
He grew pale, and thin, and the first cold taken after the
extraction of the teeth, caused a bleeding at the lungs, and
came near ending his life at once. The usual doses of physic,
as after the prostration in 1843, had not their wonted effect.
Nature, depressed, struggled for relief by uncommon avenues,
by breaking through new channels, or seeking new outlets for
her obstructed secretions. The bleeding at the lungs began
about the 1st of Feb., 1848, and continued about every tenth
day for forty days; diminishing from two gills, at first, to a
spoonful at last. By the 7th of April, he was sufficiently recovered to go by steamboat to New Orleans, in pursuit of a
milder climate. He thence went to New River, in Louisiana,
where he remained until the middle of June. In the last days
of his residence there, he painted the likeness of the horse,
Gray Medoc, and also a child for the Hon. D. K. Kennar.
He took a copy of the horse as a model; then, ascending the
river to Cincinnati, he spent seven weeks in that city, arranging some unfinished law business, and trying some causes of
his brother Thurston, whose library and office furniture, on
his return home in August, he brought to St. Clairsville; where,
on the 7th of Sept., following, he saw that brother die of consumption, about nineteen months before his own dissolution.
His brother's ill health was preceded a few months by a
severe tooth-extraction, which is supposed to have been the
remote cause of his death. The first cold, afterwards, showed
that he had leaped, in constitutional elasticity and energy,
from 26 to 75 years of age, by some modern improvement, or
progress. Physicians have, formerly, refused to pull more
than one or two teeth at a time; but dentists are not always
physicians; and if they were, they are exposed to temptation.
The patient is more likely to consent to the extraction of a
number of teeth, sufficient for a profitable job, before, than
after enjoying the transports of having one or two wrung from
his jaw.
The common error of consumptive patients is their persistence in acting as if they were well. The somewhat insensi



58                    BIOGRAPHY.
tive lungs not speaking to them in tones of pain sufficiently
loud to rouse their caution in time, they go among the robust,
and expose themselves to the same influences as others do, without reflecting that the heat which their constitutional energy
ceases to supply, must be furnished by the fire place, warm
clothing, and extraordinary care: and if they would take this
care they often find their efforts thwarted by the thoughtlessness or indifference of the robust, with whom they fall in company; who. for their pleasure will keep a coach window open,
though it lets in death to the invalid. The reason of the rule,
that the welfare of the weaker should be preferred to the convenience of the stronger passenger, ought to be better understood. The healthy and hardy should reflect, that what is
pleasant and harmless to them, is disagreeable and ruinous to
the diseased and infirm; and that the strong can bear a little
extra heat without injury, while the frail cannot endure the
cold without endangering their health. As the strong can bear
heat better than the weak can bear cold the claims of the weak
should be preferred, being founded on necessity, while those of
the robust rest merely on convenience. Thurston recovered
from the first attack of phthisis to the surprise of all who were
acquainted with his case; and as many thought his disease would
prove fatal by March, 1843, it may be useful to note the means
of cure: He confined himself to a room, whose grate night and
day blazed with bituminous coal, from the 1st of Jan. to the
1st of June of that year. The chimney draft took all the air
of the room away quarter hourly, as was judged from filling it
with tar smoke, and noting the time of its vanishment. When at
the worst, when redness could scarce be produced on the skin,
sinapisms were applied to the breast, arms, and feet, a blister
to the breastand chafing to the whole surface; but this treatment
was of short duration, not exceeding a week: the chief remcdial
agents were exercise and perspiration. Some determination
to the surface was kept up constantly; but about every third
day, for some twelve weeks, he took a profuse sweato by taking
a position near the fire, and drinking warm water made agreeable to the taste by milk or other harmless thing: as the perspiration increased, blankets were shouldered, and after an




BIOGRAPHY.                    59
hour's endurance of the heat, the wet clothes were taken off
and hot dry ones substituted with one motion, leaving no pause
for the inroads of cold; this was repeated four to six times the
same day: The effect, immediately perceptible, was anincreased
buoyancy of spirits, vivacity of the eye, exemption from irritation, soreness or stricture at the breast, increased energy
and disposition to take exercise by walking the room, with folio
volumes in hand, swinging and lifting them, so as to exercise
the muscles of the chest, and not of the legs alone, that the
weaker parts might participate in the motion, lest the stronger
might throw morbid matter on the weaker. Magnesia and
pulverized charcoal were occasionally administered to assist
languid nature to perform her functions. His health at length
seemed restored. He commenced the practice of law in Cincinnati in 1844, with spirit and success, gradually regaining a part
of what had been lost in constitution, and as gradually forgetting the terms on which that constitution permitted him to enjoy health. In January, 1846, he wrote that he had never felt
more robust; and about this time underwent another dental
operation. Some six weeks afterwards he takes a cold, neglects
it for three months and a half; then trifles with it, hoping to
vanquish it without resorting to the inconvenient and tedious
remedy of 1842-3, until it was entirely too late; though never
doubting that if he thoroughly adopted that remedy it would
prove successful. In its use, the head and hands should be
protected from cold, and the face even, not be exposed to it
long at a time. The disease may be aggravated by either of
these parts feeling the sensation of cold for a greater space
than the body would require for a tonic bath. Cold judiciously
applied, is among the most useful tonics in this complaint. Before rising in the morning, the body should be chafed by the
patient himself, to quicken his circulation, and enable him to
dress without experiencing a chill. Warm water should be freely
drank to aid the determination to the surface, and give greater
fluency to the secretions. He should not sit down to write or
read, without placing himself so near a fire,:as to be safe against
surprizes from cold, whose stealthy approaches are seldom noticed by the preoccupied mind. He should avoid repletion, in



60                    BIOGRAPHY.
digestible food, and too meagre a diet; take regular daily ex
ercise, being careful not to carry it to the point of fatigue, ever
remembering that it is a disease of weakness, not of strength;
a fire should be in his room the entire year: there are times
when the air is warm but negative, in which the heat from the
grate is much needed. Flannel and other woollen garments
should not be thrown off, save temporarily, when exercise is
more than supplying the heat they ordinarily afford. to be immediately resumed on its cessation. In short, the consumptive
should treat himself as a sick person, but he generally treats
himself in many things as a well person: and hence comes the
notion of the incurability of the disease: night sweats hint that
nature seeks relief by their means. To aid her judiciously in
this effort gives strength to the patient.
Although Sylvester witnessed the beneficial effect of what
may be termed the warm treatment on his brother, in 1843, and
on himself, in the first paroxism of his disease, in February, and
March, 1848, he persuaded himself that it was possible to so
strengthen his system by exercise, chafing the surface of the
body, and daily use of the cold shower bath, as to enable it to
triumph over its infirmities. He disliked the confinement and
the susceptibility to take cold, which the warm treatment implied; and, if he would not permit the disease to restrain his
action, the cold treatment was doubtless the best. At times it
promised success. In October, 1848, he attended the Superior
Court of Tyler County, Va, being sole counsel in several important land causes, and thence went into the woods to explore,
survey, and ascertain the location of lands, and returned home,
on the 9th of November, in very cold weather for the season,
after an absence of 37 days. The first 28 of these days his
health improved; then, by too much exposure to cold, he not
only lost what had been gained, but the disease got an additional hold on his vitals. He continued his attention to
business as if he were well, and argued several causes in the
Autumn of 1849, in such way, as to leave the impression, that
his lungs were probably not much impaired-though his pale,
and lean aspect, showed that his hold on life was very weak.
Thinking he had been benefitted by the climate of Louisiana,




BIOGRAPHY.                    61
in the spring of 1848, he left home for the Island of Jamaica,
on the 17th of November, 1849; stopped two days at Cincinati, and six at New Orleans, and reached Kingston on the 28th,
of December. His passage thither, from New Orleans, was rendered uncomfortable by sea sickness, dampness and cold. He
speaks in his letters of having been treated with great
kindness by the inhabitants of tho Island; and of the judges of
their courts, sent from England, as men ot deep erudition, and
polished manners; and of the climate, as debilitating and unfit
for consumptives; and of the Island, as retrograding from the
effect of emancipation.  On the 28th of March, he arrives in
Kingston, from Mr. Fleming's of St. Thomas, East; and appears desirous of the arrival of a Steamship, that he may go to
New York, and try the cold water remedy; but took to bed
on the same day, at the house of Mrs. Mary Ann Munford, the
widow of the Law Reporter of that name, and died on
the morning of the 4th of April, 1850, at nine o'clock, and was
buried in the Episcopal burying ground, in the suburb of the
city, where a stone has been erected to his memory. The Jamaica Gazette, thus notices his death. " Died in this city, on
the morning of the 4th, inst. Sylvester Genin, Esq., from the
state of Ohio. To personal respectability, and high attainments
in his profession as a lawyer, Mr. Genin added very respectable talents as an artist. He was a victim to pulmonary disease. His friends at home will be gratified in knowing, that
while he had the best medical advice, and most careful nursing
during life, every attention was paid to his remains on his decease, by the venerable, and estimable American Consul, to
whom his country owes a debt of gratitude, not to be estimated
for his urbanity, kindness, and unremitted attention. The funeral was attended by the Revd. Dr. Ferris, of New York City,
the Revd. Mr. Radcliffe, of the Presbyterian Church. Col.
Harrison, the American Consul, a number of American gentlemen, and many merchants and inhabitants of this city."
The following letter, from the Revd. Dr. Ferris, chancellor
to the New York University, relates to his last hours.




62                    BIOGRAPHY.
NEW YORK, May 21, 1850.
DEAR SIR-Permit me to tender my condolence with you and
your family, on the bereavement you have experienced I doubt
not you will feel his loss deeply, as he was undoubtedly a
man of unusual attainments and capabilities, and whose
promise in his profession was all a father could wish. It was
not my privilege to know your son until within a few days of
his death. I was myself at Kingston, as an invalid seeking
shelter in its fine atmosphere, from the severities of the March
air of my native city. But though an invalid, I was able to
visit my countrymen there; and I confess my heart was tenderly drawn to those who seemed going down to the grave, as
was your son. I had an interview with him on the day the
American Consul was called in to take his last wishes. Drs.
Feirguson and Campbell, had just frankly informed him that
all their skill could not avail, and suggested the propriety of
his arranging his affairs without delay. He was cool and
collected, and seemed to have an apprehension that his case
had been misconceived by the Doctor. Our interview was of
a general character, and brief. The day before he died I saw
him again; he was quite feeble, and evidently failing fast. Our
conversation was solemn, and referred to the value of a hope
in the gospel. I asked him if he was a professor of religion;
to which he replied negatively; but added that he had aimed
to live a Christian life, and set an example to others. He confessed that his mind had been too much in the world; and he
assented cheerfully to my remarks on the blessedness of the
privilege of casting our case on the arm  of a gracious God.
Through that day he sunk rapidly, and the next morning, soon
after nine o'clock, he died. I understood that his last remarks
wereJabout his home, his parents, and especially his mother. Just
before he expired, he failed fiom weakness to be able to make
himself understood in something he wished to say, and burst
into tears which flowed freely. It was thought from his last
preceeding remark, that he wished to say something of home.
He was occasionally flighty; but at the last entirely himself.
Without a sigh or a struggle lie passed away. Dr. Campbell,
who especially attended him, is an eminent physician, and a
kind friend. He made a post-mortem examination, which I
understood, fully confirmed his previous judgment of the
disease.
Your son enjoyed the entire confidence and affection of the
venerable Consul, who seeimed.indeed to visit him as a son.
The funeral occurred on the evening of the day of the death;




BIOGRAPEHY.                  6
the law, it was said, making this necessary. I attended as a
Clergyman, and performed the services which are usual among
my own people. The Rev. Mr. Radcliffe kindly'volunleered
to be present with his own conveyance. To me it was a solemn scene, to be gathered, as we were, a company of Americans, far away from home, some far gone with the same disease, mingling our sympathies over the remains of a countryman. At the grave, the service of the Church of England
was read by the chaplain for the day, the Rev.Mr. Chandler.
The grave yard is one of the Episcopal Church, and is on
the outsislrs of the town. The place of burial was a few paces
within the gate; I think on the great Central avenue; Mr.
Hitchins has marked the spot particularly. Your son had
gained friends every where; and even in death his countenance indicated a mind of very high order, and great amiability
of character. The American Consul appeared as chief mourner
as if he had been the aged father, burying his son, and that,
t son dearly beloved.
If his remains were to be removed, which could be done, or
if a stone is to be erected on his grave, Messrs Hitchins and
son, who took an active part in all relating to him, would be
the persons to attend to either.
My deir sir, one who was at that funeral, an attendant, is
now in his grave at Baltimore. Thus we are reminded of the
uncertainty of life. I trust a gracious Saviour, will sanctify
this loss to you and your family, and that we may meet in a
world where parting and sorrow are unknown.
Respectfully, yours, &c.
ISAAC FERRIS.
At a meeting of the Bar of St. Clairsville, June 20 1850, J.
A. Ramage, Esq., was called to the chair; and Henry Kennon,
Esq., appointed Secretary, The following preamble and resoutions, reported by a committee: composed of Miller Pennington, R. J. Alexander, and C. C. Carroll, Esqrs., were, after
being supported by some appropriate and feeling remarks from
C. C. Carroll and Judge Cowen, unanimously adopted.
Whereas, we have learned with the deepest regret, that while
in the spring time of life, and in the hope of a bright future,
Sylvester Genin, Esq., a member of this Bar, died from home
at Jamaica, on the 4th day of April last; and for the purpose
of expressing the high regard we have for the memory of one




;64                   iBIOGRAPHY.
whose talents so well fitted him to adorn the profession of
which he had been so short a time a member; who has left for
himself, a name bright and durable as are the many productions of his rare genius in the fine arts, and whose private
virtues qualified him for the confidence and esteem of all who
knew him, therefore
Resolved, That we do severally express to the parents, and
only brother of the deceased, our sincere condolence for the
great affliction that this melancholy event has brought upon
them.
Resolved, That the Court be requested to have the proceedings of this meeting entered upon its journal.
Resolved, That a copy be furnished to the parents of the deceased by the Secretary of this meeting.
On motion the proceedings were directed to be signed by
the officers, and the papers of this place requested to publish
the same.
J. A. RAMAGE, Chairman.
H. KENNON, Secretary.
The following obituary notice publishedin the St. Clairsville
Chronicle, on the 10th of May,. 1850, and written by the Hon.
Benj. Ruggles, for 18 years Ohio's Senator in Congress, and
one of the old men whose age and experience gave pleasure
and satisfaction to the youthful artist, may here be introduced
not only as a suitable peroration of this narrative, but as an
act of justice to the deceased, who chiefly esteemed the approbation of the wise and the good.' SYLVESTER GENIN-When a young man passes the threshhold of life, and enters upon the busy and active scenes of the
world, the public as well as his immediate friends, take a deep
interest in his future fortunes. Mr. Genin, whose recent death
in a foreign land, is deeply felt and mourned by all his acquaintances, commenced his career with brilliant prospects
before him, and the strong hopes of a long and useful life. He
possessed talents of a superior order, which were cultivated
and improved by a liberal education and extensive read
ing. He early qualified himself for the profession of the




BIOGRAPHY.                    65
law, and was soon admitted to the bar, and commenced a
successful practice. In conversation, Mr. Genin was remarkbly gifted, and could always draw upon his varied fund of in
formation for proper material to entertain, interest, and en
liven his friends, or the social circle. His manners were those
of a well-bred gentleman, dignified, but not ostentatious, easy
and courteous, free in his communications, and obliging and
respectful to all. In his associations he was not confined to
the company of youth alone, but sought society with age and
experience, in which he enjoyed much pleasure and satisfaction. His systematic manner of doing business, excellent
moral character, and uprightness of conduct in all transactions
of life, are models worthy of imitation.
Mr. Genin possessed a natural taste and genius for the fine
arts. In early youth, apparently unaided and without instruction, he employed his pencil in"drawing portraits, landscapes and
historical scenes, which he continued at intervals to the close of
his life. His productions have been pronounced by competent
judges, as finished specimens of painting, and do great credit
to the art as well as to the youthful artist. Among his works
the writer of this notice has observed the battle of the Granicus-the landing of Caesar in Great Britain-the battle of Arbela-the death of Cesar —the passage of the Red Sea by
the Israelites-the rescue of the American prisoners by Jasper
and Newton-the woman of Monterey, and others, containing
from 6 or 10 to 70 or 80 figures, in varied and expressive attitudes, harmonizing with the leading idea of the design.
The combined oratorical and martial air of Cesar,directing
the descent on Britain-the intense action of Bucephalus and
his rider, rushing over the Persians —the mingled sorrow and
dignity, with which Caesar views the steel of Brutus-the
meek but, dignified assurance, with which Moses looks to
Heaven, while extending his wand over the sea —the calm
intrepidity of the Mexican woman, and the gratified expression
of the wounded soldiers, receiving water at her hands, evince
great strength of conception, and power of execution in the
artist.
I have been told that he aimed at anatomical accuracy, and
5




66                    BIOGRAPHY.
would draw first the skeleton, and then gradually clothe it
with arteries, veins, muscles, and skin; to impress on his mind,
an exact idea of the human form.
For some years before his death, Mr. Genin's health began
to decline; and although every thing was done, that parental
affection and tenderness could do, no changefor the better could
be produced. He determined to take a journey to the South
if possible, to regain his health, believing that the sunny skies
of the tropics, and balmy air of the sea, would arrest the disease.
But it was all in vain. The great destroyer had marked him for
his own. He spent the winter at Kingston, or in the Island of Jamaica, gradually sinking away until the 4th of April, when, at the
age of twenty-eight, death closed his earthly existence. He was
thus cut down in the morning of life, and the ardent hopes of
his friends, and the presages of future eminence and distinction, were blasted forever. Although he died among strangers,
in a strange land, yet he was not without friends. His goodness of heart, and urbanity of manner, created for him the
warmest attachments. His dying bed was surrounded by
anxious and sympathising hearts, until the last pulsation of
life announced the fact, that death had done his work, and that
his spirit had fled from earth to heaven. He was buried in the
most honorable manner. The Consul of the United States, the
Rev. Clergy, all the Americans in the city, and a large concourse of strangers, followed his remains to the grave, and
deposited them in their last resting-place upon earth.
Who can invade the sanctity of family sorrow to assuage its
bitterness?  Paternal and fraternal love can never die. The
agony of severed ties will be felt. Grief must have its outpourings; and nothing but time, submission, true philosophy,
and the fortitude of the Christian and his hopes, can give consolation. An afflicted community sympathize with the bereaved
family for their irreparable loss.
The Wheeling Argus of May, 1850, edited by the late Dr.
John Dunham, says, among other things of the deceased, that
" as a gentleman, few young men ever had a more enviable reputation-as a lawyer, he was sound and practical, and rising
daily in the esteem of the older practitioners; as an artist, he




BIOGRAPHY.                    67
produced many works that procured him the friendship of our
most respectable painters and sculptors."
He exhibited great skill and eloquence in the trial of causes.
In special pleading, he was well accomplished and uniformly
successful; and though few were more capable of forming and
illustrating general rules, from elementary principles, he always fortified his positions with authorities, not omitting the
use of principles however, especially in illustrating the unity
of object of the authorities, which he generally brought to bear
with great force on the end proposed.
In the argument of land causes, in Virginia, the lawyers who
were present have averred that he displayed great ability; and
other spectators expressed their admiration, by declaring that
their Court House never before witnessed such eloquence; a declaration not strictly correct perhaps; but showing that the
speaker's manner was impressive.
General Jackson, of Parkersburg, Virginia, in an address to
the Circuit Superior Court, in Marshall County, at a special
term in December, 1852, assumed the impregnability of a point,
because it had not been overthrown by the " ingenuity and
erudition" of Mr. Genin. "I had occasion,' said the General,
"'to argue this question in another county, some years since, in
opposition to the younger Genin, a man whose extraordinary tal
ents and research commanded my highest respect and admiration, who usually cast upon the subjects he discussed, all the
light which authorities could bestow, and whose genius I have
witnessed in the skilful dispositions and elaborate display of
authorities in the case in hand; for I am informed that he prepared the general outline of this defence; yet'even he, with
all his ingenuity and erudition, could not bring authority to
bear efficiently against my position."
Ex-Governor Shannon, when at Kingston, remarked the
favorable impressions made there by his neighbor, whose death
was considered, as the American Consul declared, a loss to
mankind.
The compositions which are offered to the reader in the
following pages were found in the rough draft, witl few
exceptions,; and scattered in so many places, on the, backs of




68                     BIOGRAPHY.
letters and obsolete business papers written often with lead pencil, that it is doubtful whether he ever thought of their collection and publication; but his family being disposed to gather
into one parcel the many artistic sketches known to exist,
while searching for them, occasionally found a piece of poetry,
or prose, and threw it on a heap by itself, out of which the following pages have been compiled. The subject of the pieces
respectively, was not named. This has been inferred from
reading each piece, and placed at its head. The time of the
composition can only be judged by the subject, and the handwriting, as it gradually changed from a plain stiff to a running hand. The first two-thirds of the Day of Judgment,
from this criterion, is supposed to have been written in his
17th or 18th year; the translation from the 2Enead in his
16th. The first half of the Ode to the Wind between his
16th and 18th; the last half of it at a much later period.
He had little hope of recovering his health in the spring
of 1849, when he wrote th'e piece, entitled, "The Dead;" and
again in the spring of 1849, when the lines on "The Transient
Nature of Things", and " The Spouse", are supposed to have
been written. In the summer of the latter year he seemed to
think he might live to visit Rome; but from the following
lines, written with a lead pencil, it appears, he expected never
to return from such an excursion.
Soon in Italian dust I lay my head,
I go to sleep among the Roman dead
In the mild radiance of Italia's sky,
Life's drama closes on my longing eye.
He was deterred frem leaving home until late in the fall of
1849, by the supposed necessity of his attending to the trial of
some law suits, in which he was sole counsel.
Certain members of the St. Clairsville Bar, were desirous
that he should be made President-Judge of the 15th Circuit,
in the winter of 1846-T. He so far listened to the suggestion
as to visit the Capitol of the State, and reconnoitre the
ground; but seeing it occupied by Mr. Cowen with considerable force, and disliking to annoy him, on account of his
willingness the previous winter, when a member of the Legis



BIOGRAPHY.                    69
lature, to support his brother Thurston for a Judgeship in Cincinnati, he did not advance his pretensions. He being a moderate free soil whig, and the free soilers holding the balance
of power in the Legislature, it was thought he might be elected by the joint support of the democrats and free soilers.
He staid less than a week in Columbus, and continued his
journey to Cincinnati, to which place he professed to be going
when he left home. While there he attended and addressed
a meeting of the citizens, in favor of the establishment of a
Western Art Union: in the success of which he took much
interest, and continued a member of it while he lived.
Besides the ten designs already mentioned he executed 22
others.
In the summer of 1847, he painted The Woman of Monterey in oil, 44 by 39 inches, containing ten figures. The Woman holds in one hand a bucket, in the other a gourd shell,
outof which a soldier is drinking, with  an expression of
grateful earnestness, as he leans upon a dead horse and
lifeless companion. On the other side of her, another soldier
with his hand on her bucket, supporting himself with his elbow on the ground, is looking in eager expectation for his turn
at tbe gourd. In the distance are seen Mexican lancers
spearing the wounded, and theelegs of troops under fire, whose
heads are shrouded in the smoke of battle. The hills beyond
Monterey occupy the back ground of the picture.
Jepthah's Daughter, with India ink, on paper, 13 by 12,
contains nine interesting female figures, representing the daughter and her maids, in various graceful attitudes, descending
the steps of a palace. The daughter of the man of the rash
vow, is in advance, with her hand at her ear, listening with
the utmost attention to catch the distant sounds, that announce
his approach with the triumphant army.
The Entrance of Napoleon into Russia, is done with India
ink, 6 inches by 9; and contains seven or eight figures in the
foreground, and others that become indistinct as they recede
in the background. A Cossack, with his spear, on a horse, in
swift motion, darts from a forest in front of the cortege. The




70                     BIOGRAPHY.
Emperor's horse, at the moment, is stumbling, while the Cossack is asking what the French want in Russia. The French
are in fine order, and apparently animated with glorious
hopes.
The Retreat of Japoleon from Russia, is of the same size
and executed with the same material, exhibiting about the
same number of figures. This piece presents standards and
clothing in shattered condition; wo-begone countenances; abandoned wheels of carriages; some soldiers marching; some sitting
down in despair; some prostrate in death; and a strong wind
sweeping the sleet, Napoleon's robe, and his horse's mane and
tail, in one direction, as they labor over the wintry landscape.
Gorgcud intercepting the blow aimed by the Cossack, at
Napoleon, at Brienne, is a sketch on paper, in India ink. The
Cossack's arm is raised just behind the Emperor, prepared to
strike; Gorgaud, at full gallop, has his sword lifted, to defeat
the Cossack's intention; Napoleon's steed is rearing, and
stands upon his hind legs; his rider is looking intently in a
direction different from that in which Gorgaud and the Cossack are operating.
The Mother and Infant Child, is a bust of the size of life,
in oil, on canvass. The lovely mother holds the babe in her
arms, on her lap, contemplating his features, with maternal
delight, while he looks out from her fond embrace with vernal
freshness, infantile mildness, and attractive vivacity.
The Twin Sisters are, likewise, in oil, on canvass of the
same dimension. Their style of beauty is prepossessing, and
their relationship strikingly manifest.
The J'egro Child and Dog are in. oil, of full size. The child,
with his arms around the neck of the dog, looks at the spectator with gleeful satisfaction, while the dog, of the fyst species,
disliking the liberties taken with him in rude familiarity, stands
upon his dignity, and unveils the white of his eyes very
majesterially.




BIOGRAPHY.                     71
The Horse, Gray Medoc, in oil, is, with the landscape surrounding him, very well executed, as are several other pieces
in oil, containing a single figure;-such as The Fancied Beauty,
No. 1 and 2; Little Girls; the portraits of himself at 17, 20,
and 27, and three of his father and mother; and as many of his
brothers, at different periods.
The Sketch of the Throng referred to in these linesClose by the gate, within the jaws of hell,
Revengeful cares, and sullen sorrows dwell.
contains a dozen figures, with countenances and attitudes in
accordance with such an unpromising locality. It is on paper,
with ink, 6 by 9.
The Reckoning between the Lord and the Steward is of the
same size and material. The expression is in harmony with
the particular business in hand. Both have hold of a paper,
on which the Lord has his eyes fixed, with the air of one who
seems to think he is not to be deceived: while the Steward, in
the confusion of detected delinquency, looks up enquiringly, as
if studying its effect, or contriving a subterfuge.
The leap of Alexander from the tower, into the fortress, of the
Malli, is a sketch, with ink, on paper, 8 by 9. The king is
contending with the enemy, on the floor of the fortress, with, his
sword: stones are on wing from above: arrows are aimed at
him from within. There are some eight figures. The piece
is rough and unfinished.
Christ enjoining the rendition unto Ccesar the things which
are Cesar's, is a sketch with ink, 5 by 8, on paper, containing
6 or 7 figures, rough and unfinished; but, quite expressive.
The mild dignity of Christ: the surprise and wonder of the
Pharisees at the easy dexterity with which he evaded their
snares, and their thwarted expectation, are apparent.
McCullough riding down Wheeling Hill, is a sketch, with
ink, on paper, 12 by 10. McCullough, with his gun in his left
hand, and his right holding the reins, is descending a steep
declivity, of between fifty and sixty degrees.




72                    BIOGRAPHY.
Horses Playing, are on paper, with ink. The front horse,
with his weight on his fore feet, looks behind at the other, who
is reared on his hind feet. The sketch is spirited and natural.
Samson rending the Lion's Jaws asunder, is a sketch on paper, 10 by 9. He is running at full speed at the moment of
grasping the jaws. His weight is on his right leg: the other is
extended behind-not having overtaken its fellow; the hind
part of the lion's body is on the ground: the forepart and head
are nearly on a level with Samson's. A striking idea of velocity
and force is afforded by the picture.
Lazarus asking Alms of Dives, is on paper. The humble
diffidence and pity-invoking air of the one, is in striking contrast with the supercilious and contemptuous scowl of the
other.
The Ploughman and his Team of Horses, is on paper. The
team and its rustic lord are apparently moving over a partly
ploughed field, on one side of which is a hay-stack, and other
signs of effective husbandry..nthony exhibiting Caesar's Robe to the People, is on paper.
The lurking duplicity and cunning of the demagogue shines
through the affected indignation, and bold attempt to assume
the appearance of candor and sincerity, made by the incipient
triumvir.
The Dispute between Achilles and.Jgamemnon, is on paper,
8 by 10. The former is about to unsheath his sword, as he
sternly eyes the King, seated above: while Ulysses, sitting behind Achilles-not seeming to notice the menace-may be
supposed to be calculating the consequences of the quarrel.
Dido on the Funeral Pile, is a sketch on paper. The mournful beauty, reclined on the pile, casts a longing glance at the
ocean, and the receding ships of Eneas.
The Mamelukes attacking a French square, is a sketch on
paper. A line of soldiers is seen, partly enveloped in smoke:




BIOGRAPHY.                    73
the horses of the Mamelukes are throwing their heels into the
faces of the soldiers behind them; being backed upon the bayonets of the French, by their riders: who, with uplifted sabre
eye the foe in the rear, to guard against his thrusts.
He had some hair-breadth escapes, involving lessons of prudence. In his third year, standing before the wheel of a wagon,
loaded with straw, as it started, he raised his hand against it,
and was thrown to one side, just far enough for the wheel to
pass, without crushing him.
At another time, he passed under an axe, while the operator
was bringing it down with all his power. He escaped by scarce
an inch, in distance, and about the thirtieth of a second, in
time.
Awhile afterwards, accompanying a thoughtless milkmaid to
a cow, with a young calf, she rushed at him, furiously; he
pushed himself to one side, by throwing his hand against her
head; her horn passed outside the chin, wounding it slightlya half inch more, and the horn would have taken the jaw.
A cart, in which he was riding, was overturned on a sidehill. He was within an inch of being crushed under it. A
fall from the top of one of the loftiest hickory trees, was only
prevented from being fatal, by his grasping at small branches
on his descent.
On emergencies, he showed great presence of mind and
decision of character. The relieving of cattle in distress, or
subjecting them, if refractory, and the disentangling of perplexities of all kinds, often exhibited his efficiency and skill.
One cold morning, in his 15th or 16th year, he was found in
a distant field, with his coat off and shirt sleeves rolled to his
shoulders, assisting a distressed cow. The calf was dead, but
his practice was successful.
On one occasion, a heifer, enraged on account of her offspring, pursued his brother, Thurston, down a road. He followed close behind, at full speed, calling to Thurston to quicken
his pace; for she was overtaking him; and threw his hat in
the direction she was running, over and beyond her head, to
withdraw her attention from his brother. This tactic saved
him: she stopped to horn the hat, while Thurston escaped.




174                     BIOGRAPHY.
He soon got a noose over her horns, and tied her to a tree.
This was in his fifteenth year.
His perception was quick, and hand steady. Mr. James
Brower, his instructor in the use of the sword, averred that in
this he excelled.
These matters have been recorded, as interesting to Mr.
Genin's relatives and friends; and as to which a few others,
as members of the human family, will not be indifferent. The
object has not been to make a book for sale; but to preserve
what is valuable, and to erect a monument to one, whose merits
appear in the work itself and in this respect, is better than a
structure of marble.




SELECTIONS.
ON    GREATNESS.
THE truly great so act as to command respect. They may
be sometimes in error; but their sincerity still invests them
with dignity. They prove themselves equal to what they undertake; and their actions are in accordance with their: position. They seem to have an instinctive perception of the
harmonious relations of things-judiciously adapt means to
ends-and perform appropriately and well, the duties of their
station.
Whether beheld wielding the destinies of nations; influencing senates, guiding the rage of battle, acting as parents, companions citizens, artists, mechanics, farmers, doctors, lawyers,
or preachers, they appear great in every station; earnestly,
ably, and faithfully performing its duties.
The same mind, the same energy, the same sincerity, exerted
in whatever station man's reasonable wants have created,
commands the same regard from the just and enlightened observer.
Angels may view with reverence the patient, industrious,
frugal wife, or husband, making the best use of their means,
their reason, and wealth, for noble objects; the nurture and ed



76                    SELECTIONS.
ucation of their children in virtue and knowledge; or the
mechanic, or artist, elevating the taste, and, relieving the
wants of mankind to the greatest extent and perfection of
which his art is capable; or the farmer, using all his faculties
in increasing and refining the bounties of nature; or the jurist, vindicating justice, with all the arms which the law supplies; or the physician, supporting tottering humanity with
all the lights of long experience; or the divine, wielding all
the splendors of rhetoric and the force of reason to exhibit,
motives of virtue in time and eternity; or the citizen resolved
on the most exact obedience to, and eomplete enforcement of,
the laws of his country; for each of these possesses the elements of greatness in as high a degree, as if acting in a wider
sphere.
Seated in a log cabin, several bundles of yarn gracing its
sides, the sugar trough, cradle, and eight or ten children,
dressed in homespun apparrel, before me, and the surrounding
land bristling with stumps of huge trees, recently swept away
by the hand of industry, I have thought to perceive in the occupants, the patience of Job, the energy and perseverance of
Hannibal, the virtue and independence of Cato, and the energy
and decision of Napoleon, exerted in a humble sphere; but not
the less worthy of admiration: they had suffered without
despairing; they had encountered difficulties, which they had
surmounted; and when the mother recounted the signs of usefulness, which she had observed in this and that child, I participated in her hope, in her pride, and rejoiced in her
triumph of victory: no train of captured princes, or bright
array of spoils, could have increased my emotion and delight.
Greatness was unveiled: Ulysses shone through his humble
garb.
POSSIBLE    CAUSES OF LEGISLATION
THF Legislature of Ohio has seemed at times to be a lever
in th3 hands, now of land speculators, within her borders;
now of foreign bankers; now of cotton-planting States; and
now of a nobility that exercises political power, without shar



SELECTIONS.                   77
ing in the burthens it imposes; and now of the principle of
evil, tempting the honest to be dishonest.
It has taxed the whole state to raise the value of land in
certain localities, by rail-roads and canals, of which a large
portion of the state, bordering on, and intersected by rivers,
would know and care but little, if it did not hear of their
benefits, andfeel their evils, in oppressive taxation; consoled
however, by the reflection, that the burthen was not imposed
by the union of the benefitted few with a nobility above, but
with a nobility below the tax payer, on the score of social, not
political, importance. Whether it is better to be governed by
a poor privileged class, that votes, but pays no taxes, than a
rich, educated, privileged class, that also wields political
power, but pays no taxes, I will not now express an opinion;
nor do more than allude to the end of the beggar on horse
back. It is strange however, that a people, who suppose
themselves the most enlightened on earth, while expressing
their aversion to privileged orders, should voluntarily create a numerous one; arm it with power to impose burthens
it does not share; and humbly bow to its decrees. I desire
the happiness of all mankind; but would tempt no portion of
them to betyrants. Taxation by those who did not share
the burthen caused the Revolutionary War. I am in favor
of internal improvements, and the education of the people;
but would not be unjust in order to effect these objects. Injustice can never do good. The Legislature can never repeal
the laws of God and nature. The coveting the ox, or ass of
the neighbor, or the robbing of one, for the benefit of another,
cannot end well; whether it be for the purpose of digging a
canal to raise the value of lands on the Scioto; or for the purpose of slackening the energies of the father to provide forthe welfare of his offspring; or to release the debtor from per
forming his promises; or to lessen the value of home products
for the benefit of the foreign purchaser; or to crush our own
banks, to make room for the circulation of the paper of irresponsible foreign banks: Justice is the only safe foundation of Governments. The depression of Ohian banks, apparently to make Ohio the fieldof circulation of the paper ofbanks




78                     SELECTIONS.
of neighboring states, banks irresponsible to us, is an act of
such kindness to foreigners, and disregard of our own interests, as inclines a philosopher to look to the foreign states for
causes of which Ohian legislation is the effect, it being difficult
to account for its charity's extending its journey so far from
home. If our law makers are disposed to be thoughtless, a neighbor might think for them; but he would think to his own advantage. Our privileged non tax-paying class might care little
for the interests of stockholders of banks, yet even this class
is concerned in having sound banks at home, and would have
them there, if its action were not an effect of foreign causes.
The bankers of neighboring states, would be benefitted by the
discontinuance of ourbanks. The cotton and sugar planters
would get agricultural products at lower prices, if all banks
were swept from the Northern and Western states; but because these are reasonable inferences, it does not follow, that
foreign statesmen influence the Legislation of Ohio; If her
legislation is without thought, it might, by chance, help
others more than herself, all parties baing entirely guiltless of
design; yet a series of measures, all tending to one object,
leads to the suspicion, that the intelligence which originates
them, has only that object in view. I t is scarce practicable to
enlighten those whose desire to sustain a political party, is
stronger than their desire for truth; hence statesmen, who
would lead men against their own interests, first enlist them in
a party; rouse their animosity against the opposing party;
then, being in their confidence, gradually educate them in
doctrines false to their interests; but the falsity is not perceived, or, if seen, they will not believe their own suggestions,
if they do not accord with party views: thus farmers vote
with a party, whose measures tend to make wheat bring
forty, instead of eighty cents per bushel; and this state of
things is inevitable; and must continue, notwithstanding a
general diffusion of the means of knowledge, so long as prejudice is capable of being made stronger than reason. By this
force, governments exceed their limits; wander from the object of their creation, civil protection, and military defence, to
legislate on all things, and become the tools of cupidity, whether




SELECTIONS.                   79
acting for the benefit of Macedon or Persia without, or speculators, or thieves, within the borders of the state,
ON HISTORY.
HISTORY is perhaps among the first causes of civilization; for
by. tradition, before the invention of letters, the advantages of
good, and disadvantages of evil actions, were perceived by man
kind. They, thus learned to shun the evil, and pursue the
good; and adapt means, the most suitable for the attainment
of the end in view. The historian is to the uninformed what
the wise adult is to the simple child. The adult's superiority
over the child is not owing to his having a better mind, but to
his having more experience; and if the experience of some
thirty years gives him a striking superiority over the child,
would not the experience of many past ages still give a greater
superiority?  The possession of the experience of the past, implies the possession of more than the knowledge of past transactions: judgment as well as memory are essential elements of
experience; which is not only the remembrance of facts, but the
conclusions drawn from those facts. The recollection of the
facts recorded in ancient and modern history, would be almost
an useless incumbrance on the mind, unless just conclusions
could be drawn from them. One may therefore know many
things, and be very old, without having much experience, or a
proper perception of the causes of results; so, one may be quite
young, and yet possess considerable experience. When one
has attained his twenty-first year, he has already observed a
great many phases of motive, in short, the broad world in miniature; and though, with knowledge necessarily limited, for
want of time for large acquisitions, yet his observations were
made with, probably, about the same volume of mind that he
will have in a more advanced age. Much that is observed in
after life is merely confirmatory of what has been often wit
nessed before; as years increase we more easily distinguish the
true from the false from repeated observation; but our field of
knowledge it more slowly enlarged. Alexander Pope publish



80                    StLECTIONS.
ed his Essay on Criticism at the age of twenty-two. Many have
lived eighty years without attaining the experience which this
work displays in its author. We may justly infer, that he who
reads industriously, and judges soundly, may soon reach a great
age in experience, as did Clive, Pitt the younger, Napoleon,
Scipio Africanus, and others. The unnumbered developments
of selfishness, as disclosed by history, sufficiently indicate the
principle which chiefly governs mankind, nationally, and individually: founded on want more or less; as luxury or simplicity prevails, it steadily urges events with more or less force.
It makes monarchies the tools of courtiers to advance families.
It makes republics the tools of demagogues, land speculators,
and office seekers; and compels the people to fly for shelter
from robbery, to regal government. Their rights are undermined by the sweetest siren melody that selfishness can breathe.
The land holder deems it very reasonable, that he should be
made rich by what is termed an internal improvement, at the
public expense. The house-holder thinks nothing more clear,
than that he should be maintained, and his family educated by
the public; for, says he, above half the convicts cannot read
and write. The learned rogues mostly escape, and the ignorant
ones, their cats-paws, are caught. The zealot wonders that
tythes are not exacted for the support of stated preaching.
Written constitutions in vain oppose this principle of selfishness. In all forms of government, it operates with more or
less force; but in republics, without virtue, it breaks out into
undisguised robbery. A thief on the bench, or in the legislature, delights in the indulgence of his natural propensity, under
the forms of law. The force of selfishness, modified by fear,
honor, virtue, patriotism, temrperance, luxury, &c., determines
the duration of governments. These endure in proportion to
the exemption of the people from its rapacity. A few drones
in a despotism may be supported a long time without exhausting the masses; but in governments, where great numbers succeed in reaching the public treasury, they hasten the downfall
of the nation, by exhausting its resources in countless ways.
Excuses for imposing taxes are never wanting-the honor of
the State, the glory of God, the advancement of true religion




SELECTIONS.                   81
the promotion of learning, the improvement of the country, in
short, for every thing besides, as well as the true objects of
government, civil protection, and military defence; and these
proper objects of government, are, at times, perverted, to give
employments to favorites. These workings of selfishness, history unfolds, and teaches to guard against its rapacity, and to
promptly check the first deviation of government from its proper objects; which John Locke, and after him, Mr. Jefferson,
says, people are not disposed to do, until the repetition of
abuses becomes intolerable.
TAR I FF.
The advantages of a protective Tariff have long been understood in Europe.  The protective policy is the permanent
policy of all European Governments. Its utility is no longer
a debatable question among their Statesmen. We may safely
infer that their anti-protective, and free trade speeches, and
documents, are made for exportation, and foreign consumption:
so great is the difference between their precepts and practice.
Their practical Statesmen have endorsed the writings of the free
trade theorists by word, not deed, to give them currency
abroad; and the history of the United States, shows these political abstractions to have been the dearest of our imports. We
have seen our prosperity increase, or wane, with the increase ordiminution of our Tariff; yet many seem resolved not to be
benefitted by the experience, and wilfully shut their eyes on the
discrepancy between the theory and practice of foreign Statesmen. Some actually pretend to question the power of the
National Government to establish a merely protective Tariff,
or one which has not revenue for its sole object, overlooking
the deep foundation of such a power in the nature of things.
This power is founded on the right of self-defence. The exercise of this right is not affected by the nature, or the manner
of the aggression. It matters not, whether we are assailed by
hostile arms, or hostile policies. If we have a right to self-defence, we have a right to exert it in all cases. If an enemy
6




82                    SELECTIONS.
send a ball against buildings, in one of our harbours, he must
redress the injury, or feel our vengeance; but may he plunder
us by an inimical policy, and destroy our commercial prosperity
with impunity? A bull-dog could comprehend the case of open
violence, and there is need of but little more sagacity to understand the other. If the Federal Government has not the power to
regulate commerce, under the constitution, by express provision,
still, could we rationally infer that it has not the faculty of selfdefence in a matter of such vital importance? Has not a na
tion natural rights, and is not its Government bound to guard
them, whether the duty be expressly enjoined or not? The
Government of a nation must, in the pursuit of the object of
its institution, defend its people against attacks of every description. In the face of this natural right of self-defence, and
the express grant to the Federal Government to regulate commerce, is it not an extravagantly audacious experiment on the
American understanding, to attempt to convince it that there
is no powerin that Government to establish a protective Tariff?
If the Federal Government cannot exercise that power, the power remains in the States; but it is not claimed that the State
Governments may regulate commerce. The power is in the
National Government, if any where; and while this Government neglects to regulate our intercourse with foreign nations,
those nations will regulate it at our expense, and keep us in
debt to them, selling to us more of their productions than they
buy of ours. If the Federal Government, swayed by sectional
jealousy, neglects to protect us, we should, by fixing the price
of lisence to sell goods, or otherwise, endeavour to protect ourselves, by State laws, which is scarcely practicable, since the
same influence that controls the Federal governs State
legislation, by party tactics, and Federal patronage. The
slave and free States are in a condition of rivalry, rather than
union: the former wield the general Government, and form
commercial alliances, compromitting the interests of the latter;
saying, by acts, to England take off your duty on cotton, and
rice, and we will, in return, take off so much of the duty on
iron, and cloths, and impose such a duty on dye stuffs, raw silks,




SELECTIONS.,83
&c., as to give your manufacturers a decided advantage in the
American Market.
It is the policy of monarchies to favor capital, and labor,
as its adjunct, to sustain a noble class; and all the advantages
their laborers derive from our errors, go to swell the incomes
of their nobility and capitalists. While we choose to be co-laborers with their paupers we share, in some measure, the evils
of their oppression, and they enjoy a portion of the benefit of
our freedom; for it is a natural law of commerce that the tendency of unrestrained trade, is to equalize the wages of labor.
-What a consolation for the devout democrat! If he grows
poor, for the want of protection against the pauper labor of
monarchies, his losses have gone to increase the incomes of
nobles!
To claim that our manufacturers may flourish, without protection, is to claim that an infant may successfully wrestle with
an adult.
Foreign Governments, by giving premiums on articles exported, many ruin the manufacture of such articles here, if unprotected. Protection, to be efficient, should be permanent.
To claim that a market for our agricultural products, three
thousand miles from our shores. with its exposure to interruption from wars, accidents,and cost of freight, is preferable to
a market at home, or that protection cannot be accorded without an unjust partiality, or that foreign commerce diminishes
with the increase of articles of trade, is to claim an absurdity.
The cost of freight adds to the cost of production. The
Ohian takes five dollars worth of flour to England at an exense of one dollar and a half. The Englishman takes five dollars worth of woollen, or cotton goods, to Ohio, at an expense of
ten to twenty five cents, according to the quality of the goods.
Thus, the distance of the market, adds but little to the cost of
producing the goods; but a great deal to the cost of producing
the flour. It is plain,that the expense of freight, in the exchange
of productions, falls some fifteen fold heaviest on the Ohian.
He must employ fifteen ships to carry to England as much flour
as will pay for one ghip load of manufactured articles. He
therefore should try to get the manuicturer's loom nearer home,




84                     SELECTIONS.
even adjoining his farm, that the more perishable products of
the garden, orchard, &c., might be exchanged for goods withOut cost of freight.  In every article of foreign manufacture
w'hich he buys, he purchases, in effect, as much agricultural produce, as the manufacturer consumed while fabricating the article: But I have hardly patience to group arguments in support of axioms, self evident propositions, that have been illustratedy besides, by the practice of all civilized nations, and
sanctioned by all our Presidents. It is probable, that in every
hundred millions of goods imported, we purchase from eight to
twelve millions of foreign agricultural products,, and thereby
injure our own agriculture to more than double that amount,
by depriving it of market to that extent, and forcing manufacturers to become farmers.
NATIONAL      DEFENCE.
THE arts of peace, provide for defence in war. By those
arts, the physical and intellectual resources of a people are
developed, and the acquisition of money is facilitated; which
has been considered so necessary in the contests of states, as
to be termed, "thesinews of war."
The general education of the people increases the intellectual resources; the equal encouragement of commerce, manufactures, and agriculture, by increasing the wealth, furnish
the physical resources for the successful prosecution  of
war. As war is only a trial of strength, whatever makes a
nation powerful, best prepares it for war. Whatever weakens a nation, disables it for this trial. The arts of peace give
strength. Large standing armies, and heavy taxation, give
weakness. When the occasion finds a people well supplied
with the "sinews of war" and a sufficient leaven of intelligence to skilfully direct the physical mass, armies and fleets
suddenly rise. Railroads, Turnpikes, and Canals, are our best
fortresses. These may throw large armies on a given point,
as well as aid in furnishing the sinews; Their capacity to
concentrate men and supplies, will enable a defending nation




SELECTIONS.                   85
to precipitate an overwhelming force on an invader, in a time
so brief, that each soldier might carry his own food for the
campaign.
A foe from the ocean would select his place of landing on
our extensive coast, and might take a fort, by assault, and
use it, as a shield,against our attacks but, if he were obliged
to landon a naked shore, he could only find shelter in positions afforded by the configuration of the ground; and from
these positions he might be more easily dislodged, than from a
fort. Still there should be forts at proper points: This
view of the matter might limit our reliance on them., without
dispensing with their use. All things have a tendency to beget their likeness: anger excites anger; a warlike attitude
begets a warlike attitude in others. A peaceful attitude would
produce similar results  and soon create interests entirely
opposed to a state of war; so that the whole world would be
a social body, with nations for its members, whose general
welfare, would be promoted, by the soundness of each of its
parts. If there were no pauper labor in Europe, it would not
affect our industrious poor. We feel a part of the miseries
of the English people, in spite of occasional protective tariffs. The prosperity of each nation would soon be found to
be beneficial to all the nations. No one should wish to injure
himself, by harming his neighbor, and impairing his capacity
to be a good customer. Stocks owned by a belligerent, have
saved cities from bombardment.
The Uuited States need but a very small navy and armyThe elements of both should be provided; that is, military
knowledge should be diffused, and materials for ships should
be accumulated, ready to be put together in case of war.  A
flourishing commerce, agriculture, and manufacture, would
supply the sailors, the soldiers, and the sinews of war. A
state of continual preparedness, for immediate war, on a large
scale, costs far more than all its advantages are worth-admitting these to be considerable. In peace prepare for war;
but preparation is ill made by exhaustion of strength in bearing armour; withdrawing large numbers of men from those
employments that enrich a state, making them a burden in



.66                   SELECTIONS.
stead of a support to it. Still, the governing class in Europe
are tempted to keep large armies on foot; else, one might
hope to see the general interests of humanity more consulted,
The European states might disband three fourths of their
armies, without fear of being crushed by a sudden assault from
without, and the remaining fourth would be as efficient to
repress rebellion, with the aid of rail roads and electric' telegraphs, as the whole force formerly was. The holders of
office, mightbe provided for in a way less expensive to the
state, and more advantageous tb themselves than drilling soldiers.
Lest evils should result from disbanding great masses at
once the nations might stipulate to discharge ten per cent of
their troops annually. After they become interested in the
avocations of peace, a large influence would be withdrawn
from war.
The war of eighteen hundre I and twelve found the United
States, who declared it, quite unprepared for immediate action. A navy was built on the shores of lakes Champlain
and Erie, which vanquished the enemy. Militia were soon
made available: They won victories-The French republic,
in seventeen hundred and ninety, were without regular troops;
but they had good officers, and abundance of men; these
were soon taught to form in line, fire, and run to the rear,
where they again formed in a line, reloaded, and repeated
their discharges, until they penetrated the well disciplined
phalanxes of the Austrians. History abounds with evidence
that military knowledge, or skill, can act efficiently with the
most raw materials. Provide this leaven of skill, and a prosperous people will easily supply the physical force of men and
money. It was chiefly with soldiers of short experience, that
Napoleon won the victories of Marengo, Lutzen, Bautzeim and
others, which immediately followed the Russian campaign of
1812. A Samson, or a Hercules is easily armed; so a nation grown strong by the arts of peace, will readily make its
strength available on the exigency of war.




SELECTIONS.                    87
FALSE VIEWS OF SELF-INTEREST DEPRIVE
MERIT OF REWARD.
IT has generally been the lot of those who have" benefitted
mankind, by their genius and talents, to be treated with cold
neglect; or become the objects at which are aimed the keen
darts of envy and malignity. Mankind reserve their gratitude,
if it may be so called, until it cannot be enjoyed by those towards whom it is pretended, they wish to show it. Why pile
useless marble, and erect the magnificent, mausoleum over the
graves of the departed great? Is it to honor them, or to exalt the living? Is it not a trophy raised to reflect honor on
the builders, though founded on the merit of the dead? A
beacon which attracts the attention of the world to the living,
on account of the dead, and the more their glory is displayed
the greater is the honor their fellow citizens derive from it.
Why then do we not fan the living blaze of genius, at least
not endeavor to extinguish it, nor give a helping hand, until,
by its native vigor, it overcomes our endeavors to smother it,
and its mortal tenement has become lifeless clay?'Tis not
because we are more able to perceive the merits of the dead
than the living. Their works, or our capacity to judge them,
do not improve by time: Why is it then, that we withhold our
gratitude to our benefactors; to those men of genius, to whom
we are indebted for all the bl3ssings knowledge and science
can bestow; those men who have braved the malevolence, ignorance, superstition, and prejudice of mankind; the hardships
of poverty, to cultivate knowledge, and benefit the world, until
they descend to the grave, oppressed by all the evils thankless
ignorance can inflict; where they feel neither the fangs of envy
nor chill gripe of poverty; where the trump of fame, and the
serpent hiss of malignity are alike to them. Does this come
from false views of self-interest, entertained by their contemporaries, and survivors? Is it feared that the meritorious, if
justly appreciated, and rewarded, will take too many loaves
and fishes; but after they have ceased to need the things of
life, do their neighbors, their nation, their race, then admit the




88                    SELECTIONS.
height and breadth of their merit, merely to share its glory?
False views of self-interest inclining man to deny the claims
of merit before and to admit, them after its possessor has descended to the grave?
The assumption that such views are false, is, at least, as
correct, as the maxim, that honesty is the best policy. The
proposition, that it is no ones interest to be unjust, is too plain
to need illustration: Nine tenths of all who succeed well in
life, owe their success to a certain confidence in their honesty
of purpose. The success of those who seem to form exceptions to this rule, may be traced to such confidence; and if
the abuse of it is unpunished in time, it may be inferred from
the nature of things, that evil and its consequences, will ever
be evil in whatever state of existenee Tman may be  The fruit
of injustice, though its external appearance tempt the palate,
will, in the end, prove to be bitter ashes. Wealth is what
contents the conscience as well as what supplies physical
wants; both are essential to hapiness.
Certainly, those who throw obstacles in the path of genius
struggling with adversity, from apprehension of its rivalry,
do certain evil for a doubtful transient advantage, and do
wrong under less temptation than the thief, who steals an article, which affords immediate benefit, and must stand self-condemned forever for the deed.
Doubtless, all the greatness of the truly great, is not discoverable at a glance: Owing to this, in part, Homer, Milton,
Shakespere may have been neglected; but how could those
next in intellectual power, who influence the masses below,
have failed to appreciate, in a considerable degree, such transcendent geniuses! and why was such appreciation without
voice or effect on public opinion?  May it not be inferwed that the secondaries rather concealed than disclosed the
merits of their superiors?




SELECTIONS.                    89
THE SOCIAL IS THE NATURAL STATE.
THE natural rights of man, may be defined to be such rights
ns are necessary to the perfect enjoyment of life.  These rights
embrace all the powers, or liberties, necessary to the exercise,
and cultivation of all his mental and physical powers; the perfection of these being necessary to the perfect enjoyment of
life. Cannot these rights he said to be properties inherent in
the constitution of man? Is society (which necessarily implies
Government) a natural state? The desires, the passions, the
weakness, in short, the kind of being man is, says yes: God,
therefore, formed us for Society. One man is but a part of a
whole, and that whole, a community; this community is a thing,
a whole being, and is, like all other natural things, governed
by natural laws, formed in harmony with its nature, and elements; for God never formed a being, or thing, one of the prop:
erties of which, was not the law controling its existence. Society, as well as man, is an emanation of nature, or God, having
his own constitution, and laws peculiar thereto; the obedience,
or disobedience of which, in either case, produces perfection,
and health, or disease, decay, and death. The rights of man,
and the just laws of society come not in conflict.  All nature
is harmony; there is no discord in God's laws; man, of course,
surrenders no rights when he enters into society; but acquires
rights he never could have enjoyed in the unnatural existence
of a wandering savage; for what the writers call the natural
state, is the most unnatural state; for the natural is that which
is best adapted to his nature, which is society, it being the
only state in which man can reach the greatest physical and
mental perfection. The argument is life; its main propositions are pleasure and duty. If we properly understand,
and pursue undeviatingly our happiness, we perform all the
requisitions of God. He only requires, that we benefit ourselves. If we did not cultivate vicious appetites we would be
prone to do right.
The sanctity of the right of property is the basis of human
improvement.  It induces youth to provide for old age; caus



90                    SELECTIONS.
e, frugality and industry to make provision for years of
famine; for the cultivation of the arts and sciences; for the
support of the poor, or those who cannot help themselves:
but the abuses of legislation may incline the social towards
the unnatural state, by tempting to sloth and dishonesty; taxing the industrious and frugal for the benefit of the idle and
prodigal; protecting the sluggard's thistle patch from satisfying a just debt, and preventing its transfer into industrious
hands; thus obstructing the natural process of purification,
and inflicting disease on the state. How pitiable is the condition of a people in the hands of quack statesmen!
ON ROTATION IN OFFICE.
There are but few offices in this country that require a change
of occupants, because of the p)wer they confer. The mass of
the offices are of a nature, which confer no power on their pozsessors, but are the instruments growing out of, and dependant
on the general departments to perform the functions of the
government. A capacity for, and a willingness to attend to
official duty, with fidelity and honesty, is all that is necessary
in the incumbents of such offices. A want of any of these
requisite qualifications unfits an officer for the discharge of his
duties; he should therefore be dismissed, because of incapacity to perform his duties which alone would justify the
rejection of an officer; because the object of the office would
not be obtained; and the Government lose the necessary assistance of one of its functions.
All offices should be necessary; and the claims to office, of
right, are founded on superior capacity and honesty, if the object
of the office is the public good. The pay of such office holders
should be proportioned to the skill required, and labor to be
performed, in their respective duties; and should be regulated by the common r.ward, such skill and labor would
produce in other pursuits; and capacity, and honesty should
be the test, in the selection of an officer.  Would this
not be urged with equal reason for his continuance? And does




SELECTIONS.                   9
not a long discharge of the duties of an office, capacitate the
officer for a more perfect discharge of his duties?
If an office is unnecessary it should cease to exist; as its
support is ain unnecessary expense. But, if necessary, there
can be no right to office in reason, unless founded on superior
capacity to perform its duties  If the existing officer is faithful, and capable to discharge his duties, none has greater
right to such office. If offices are sinecures, I reason unsoundly. Every cent paid to an officer, beyond the common reward
for labor and skill, is an unnecessary expense, and is a patronage of Government, which, all equally have a right to receive or share, and it is this excess alone, which may strictly
be deemed patronage; and this, alone, that creates the desire
of rotation in office; and only this, can be urged in its favor.
Who wants rotation in the post of private in the Army?
None; because no more is received for the service than for
other labor requiring. similar skill. If the compensation of
the soldier were ten fold greater than such skill and labor
commonly received, would not a certain class call for rotation
in the army, and claim, that all are equally entitled to share,
not in the reward of labor, but in the advantages of the position? And would not such expectants be most devout adherents to the dispenser of the favor? How dangerous to liberty
might such patronage prove? All power to remove fronm and
appoint to office is a power to bribe for support. A power to
pay with public funds for partizan services; a power to pervert, what belongs to the whole, for the benefit of a part of
the people. It is a fearful power, over which, public opinion
should have the restrictive authority of law, to paralize, and
make odious, him who abuses it.
The excess of recompense beyond the value of the labor performed by the officer, which aggravates the evils of patron.
age, it is difficult to guard against; for what is a scant reward
to a competent and accomplished officer, is a munificent reward to an incompetent and ignorant one. Suppose the salary
fixed according to the labor and ability needful in the incumbent; it would soon be found, that though the men to whose
capacity the salary had been proportioned were indifferent to




92                     SELECTIONS.
getting or retaining the office, yet it would be eagerly sought
by persons of inferior capacity to those for whom the compen
sation was determined. These inferiors seeking to serve themselves rather than the country, could consistently demand rotation in office; as the very expression implies, that offices are
for the benefit of the holders, and not of the public; that is, a
sort of gratuity to the individual officer, and not a labor, yielding no greater profit, than the same skill might acquire in
other labor. What is gained in patronage, therefore, by those
who remove from, and appoint to office, tends to the injury of
the public, by the offices falling into incompetent hands. As it
is only in proportion as the labor of the officer is compensated
more than other labor, that the office is desirable, rotation
tempts the unskilful and incompetent to slander and supplant
the skillful and competent, and aggravates party strife for
party rewards, from which the public interest must necessarily
suffer.
It may be assumed, that in a confederacy of states, the state
that most disregards the principle of rotation, will have the
most influence; for her affairs will be managed by abler men,
than those who are called into service, not because of their experience in public matters, but because it is their turn at the
public crib. And it may reasonably be suspected that the principle of rotation in office, is the suggestion of a rival to facilitate his ascendency. Its adoption is certainly an act of selfdegradation,
NATURE IS THE ART OF GOD.
WE would be Atheists if we could believe that matter exists without a God. All the changes and varieties of organization, found in animal and vegetable existences, may be the
nature, or qualities, of the matter; and the harmony therein
perceivable may result from the absence of antagonistic matter,
We, as parts of this mass of matter, cannot determine otherwise; because we cannot rise above our nature. Suppose
another world of matter, entirely different from our own, were




SELECTIONS.                  93
joined to ours; might not the union create new existences, new
combinations, new organizations, to the destruction of all
present organisms? Such consequences might follow: for
nature would be changed; and that all her parts might be in
harmony, we would also be changed; for we could not live in
opposition to nature, then, easier than now. The new existences might act on different principles-obey God by conforming to other rules of action, morally, mentally, and physically,
What these new combinations would produce, we are unable
to conceive; for we cannot comprehend ourselves. The utmost
attainment of man, is, to see in the several harmonics, with
which he is acquainted, the greatest influencing element of
nature, or of the mass of matter of this world, and of the system of which it is a part, what we call God: or, in other
words, a something, incomprehensible and infinite.
In corroboration of the above, I might refer to the effect
produced by the influence of another ball of matter upon us,
viz.: the Sun. If this luminary were withdrawn, our globe
would still retain all its elements; but the organizations resulting from the combination of these elements with the Sun's
rays, would not exist; there would be no living animal or
vegetable existences: the sterility of the poles would be found
at the tropics: and that strange phenomenon of nature, called
life, would disappear; because the discontinuance of combination with that other globe would cease to produce it.
APOPHTHEGMS.
No man should acquire the art of reasoning sophistically; it
perverts the judgment.
THE acquirements of a man should keep pace with his capacity to use expertly, and to tell what he knows. Nature seems
to demand more time to learn well the use of knowledge, than
to acquire it. How many disobey her; they do nothing but
acquire-acquire.
THAT expression which is the most beautiful, is the most
lucid and forcible.




94                     SELECTIONS..
THE form of greatest beauty possesses the greatest strength:
other things being equal.
THE brain, or head, of greatest power, is the one which is
most symmetrical in form, and of most beautiful proportion to
the rest of the form. Such is the harmony of nature.
THAT philosophy is false, which teaches us to despise the
pains and pleasures of life. If we are perfect men, we feel
them; and to despise them is to despise ourselves, as also the
God who made us as we are.
GLORY and "public honors," which some call empty, and
mere baubles, are not follies; because they are the source of
pleasures; as substantial, nourishing, and invigorating to the
mental man, as pork and potatoes are to the physical man; and
are the elements of mental and patriotic action.
To be wise is not merely to see our own follies and weaknesses; but rather our perfect adaptation to our position in natures
IF it were the necessary lot of the wise tosee the imperfections of their nature, without a more than proportional amount
of perfection; of course to feel them more strongly than others,
as some writers assert, wisdom would only confer unhappiness.
This is unnatural.  Happiness is the object of life: and
happiness is the result of perfection; and it is the end, or object,
or effect, sought by the operation of all the laws of nature: and
wisdom is essential to perfection.
OUR passions are, as they should be, our guards, guides, and
friends. We are charged with their education, and must not
corrupt them, or they will prove our greatest enemies.
THERE are two classes of religious persons; one worships
the principles of his religion, and his God; the other worships
the forms of religion: this class persecutes all who disregard
the forms of religion. The other class pities those who disregard the principles of religion.
EXISTENCE is a condition between the individual and nature,
who will not perform her part, if we do not perform ours.




SELECTIONS.                    95
THE ATTRIBUTE OF STRENGTH.
POWER seeks the strong, as stones fall to the earth, or water
seeks a level. It is the attribute of strength. It always
crushed Pygmean shoulders; always fell from the hands of the
weak, in whatever sphere its action.
What availed it that in the Athenian republic the assembly
of the people gave sanction, and effect to, or annulled the decrees of the Senate. The populace did not, for all that, govern
themselves. The weakness of their natures gave them up to
stronger minds: who controlled their every action, as the
nurse does the babe. Human law gave them all the power it
could confer; but nature's law transferred it from the weak
to the strong: breaking the cobwebs of human forms.
If you educate the subjects of a despot, or, in other words,
strengthen the poweivhich is exercised in governing, the power
passes virtually into the hands of the people; and though the
forms of government may exist, the despot becomes a subject,
or rather a servant to many masters, courting their favor, and
pandering to their caprices. Thus power will only be found
in the hands of the strong; it is nature's law, and human law
cannot affect its operation. Statutes may give it a nominal
residence, but nature's law gives it a virtual one.
The successful termination of the Revolutionary war, would
have only exchanged a foreign f6r a domestic tyrant, had the
Americans been as ignorant as the serfs of Russia. And the
chartered rights, or rather civil and political powers of Englishmen, are the result of their intellectual strength, and not of
royal concessions, or acts of parliament; they being the mere
effects of such strength.
IN what way can we distinguish the good from the bad, but
by their acts-their deportment in their business with other
men? If words and professions were the index, liars would
have a decided preference over the good. If acts that do not
conflict with interest, or passion, be received as evidence, hypocrites have a manifest advantaje.




96                   SELECTIONS.
THE laws of animal creation and existence cannot be acci-,dent, though our individual creation may be; because the
action of nature's laws may by accident have been brought to
bear on the particular case.
RELIGION.-There is nothing which has had greater influence on mankind. Nothing which has appeared in more
various shapes, or been more abused and perverted from the
purpose for which it was designed. It has been the instrument
equally of goodness, vice, avarice, and ambition; by it, the
warrior has inspired his troops with confidence. Priests, kings,
and knaves, have, by its means, attained their ends, whether
good or bad. And why? Because it makes stronger impressions than other things. Religion has always tended towards
one end; but its forms and its results are various. It is in its
forms, that the abuses alluded to have been effected. Its modes
of action, therefore, should not be disregarded. The fire that
warms, may consume, if ill directed.
VIRTUE has various forms, and is the subject of disputation.
According to the common opinion, it is moral goodness: that
term prohibits the doing of any act that is bad in itself, to
effect a good purpose. Thus they cite the idea, which barbarous nations had, of revenge being a virtue, and show the
effects it would have in our social state: without considering
that acts may be good, or bad, according to circumstances,
and that the end may be of more importance than the means.
An amputation of a limb may save the whole body. Where
general laws fail to protect, it does not follow that wrong must
triumph. The right of sanctuary, has made the use of the
stiletto, in Italy, frequent. The revenge of individuals supplies,
in some measure, the defects of law. The avenger of wrongs
being viewed in the light of a public prosecutor, he would be
thought to disregard his duty, if he let offenders escape punishment. Those who have lived under the common law of England, have been the least inclined to avenge their own injuries;
because the law purports to remedy every grievance. There
is no wrong withont a remedy, being one of its maxims, every
one hopes the law will give him relief. Afiong savage tribes,




SELECTIONS.                   97
the general safety is concerned in the certainty of revenge. As
all is well that ends well, possibly that is virtuous, which conduces most to the public good.
SLAVERY     IS AGGRESSIVE.
THE reception, by a free state, of the vicious, degraded,
ignorant, and infirm outcasts of slavery, is unjust to the state;
and cultivates slavery by diminishing the expense of supporting
its infirm members, and of governing its vicious and ignorant
outcasts; the worn out tools of a selfish and heartless institution; which would not fail, according to its natural instincts,
to prey upon the magnanimity of any policy adopted by the
free States towards the negroes. The free States should not
allow themselves to provide alms houses for slavery; but, as far
as practicable, require it to bear its own burdens, and retain
within its own limits, its degrading emanations. The laws of
most of the slave States require the free negroes to leave the
State, within a certain time. The intelligence which originates
those laws, would naturally suggest to its tools in the free
States, to facilitate the admission of such victims to all the
rights of citizenship there. This, with colonization in Liberia,
would do much towards weeding the garden of slavery, and
giving this man-degrading institution, a more vigorous growth.
This institution is, in its nature, aggressive. It is difficult to
restrain itself from acts of hostility; and, consequently, truce
or peace with it cannot long be maintained, more than with
hunger. It robs others, by insolvency, or conquest, to supply
deficiencies. One half of the population, laboring reluctantly,
cannot well support the other half in idleness and extravagance.
It is always hungry, and must always prowl; as did.Roman
slavery, which, after there were no more neighboring nations
to rob, commenced taxing the provinces, or devouring her own
extremities. Its basis being the destruction of human rights,
the superstructure must exert a malign influence on all within
and around it. It is necessarily a curse to the master, to the,
7




8ab9~8   ~       SELECTIONS.
Olave, and to free labor. The latter feels its blighting breath
in its action on the Federal Government, abolishing tariffs of
protection of home industry, making wars to extend the area of
slavery, &c. Its control of the patronage of the Federal
Government might enable it to pervert the legislation of the
free States to its purposes, and even to introduce itself there,
with all its evils. It has fastened itself on Texas, notwithstanding the immense capital in land, and small comparative
capital in slaves, existing there; showing that her interest in
excluding slavery from her limits, was incalculable; for that
peculiar institution peculiarly depreciates land. Yet the good
of the many has been set aside for the convenience of the few;
not the few of Texas, it may be presumed, but of other States,
who have slaves to sell, and a balance of power to maintain.
When the Texans comprehend their true interests, they will
abolish slavery. The act would treble the value of their lands.
In a confederacy of States, those most monarchical may get
control over the rest, asidid Macedon. Their veteran will
relieve apprentice statesmen from the labor of thinking, while
rotating in office; provide them with maxims of conduct, and
political teachers, paid with federal offices. The free States
might thus be furnished with false guides, in their own citizens;'by whose direction their legislation might benefit others more
than themselves. Party names gild the pills of false doctrine,
and "subject the policy and will of one country to that of
another."
CELIBACY attends luxury; because luxury makes wealth indispensable; throws society into grades; and as men think they
have reason to fear their means will prove insufficient to mainlain their grade, and support a family, they choose to remain
sigle.
MATRIMONY attends simplicity, frugality, and economy; for
tihe may hope to be able to supply all the real, or natural wants:f a family, as these are limited; but artificial wants are with-'tt end. The human race would become extinct, if luxury




SELECTIONS                    I
were universal. The simple, industrious, and frugal, are the,conservators of humanity; they are its body and soul; the
luxurious and slothful, are its excresences, warts, or tumors,
continually inflaming, suppurating, and disappearing.
WEALTH has power, mostly, because of artificial wants. He
who can satisfy these wants, holds a strong lever, by which to
influence human actions. Ile governs, with the magic wand of
gold, a world, misled by the siren voice of lesire. In the natural, which I claim to be the social state, a degree of exercise
necessary to the healthy condition of the body, would supply.
all real wants. But in the artificial state, imaginary wants
make men dependent on those who possess the means of satisfying them; for these wants are as urgent forgratification as
those which are real: When Dr. Franklin ate his sawdust
pudding, in the presence of his patrons, he exhibited his independence of wealth, in the moderation of his desires; as did,
also, Diogenes, when he wanted nothing of Alexander, but
that he would not intercept the rays of the sun. Both are
extreme cases; but illustrative of the independence of those who
have no other than natural wants.
With moderation of desire, one could seldom feel poor;
without it, one could never be content: it is indispensable to
happiness. What folly, to torment ourselves with artificial
wants.
HiAVE   ALL TEE SAME        PROPENSITY     TO   GOOD
AND   TO   EVIL?
THIS is a mere question of fct, determinable by observation
alone. If I were asked whether the natural propensities of
the tiger were more dangerous than those of lambs,I could only
answer, yes; look and you willsee. So with the question we
now discuss. Does the history of the past-does your own observation of the present time, afford no answer to this question?




100                   SELECTIONS.
Does not all time teem with instances of men, having instinctive tendencies to good and evil, varying in degree from high
to low? Has that Nature, whose laws produce such variety;
who gives to one, beauty; to another, deformity; who now
brings forth a Solomon; and now an idiot; a Hercules and a
dwarf; a bold man and a coward; not given to one a greater
propensity to do good than another? Had not Washington a
greater propensity to do good than Robespierre? Had not
Howard, who periled his existence, expended his property, and
devoted his life to the prosecution of benevolent objects, a
greater innate desire, or propensity, to do good, than a Cataline, who made the same sacrifices for lawlessness and injustice?
It may be said that circumstances form the character: they have
their influence; but a thief is a thief, wherever you place him;
clothe him in purple or in rags: as a ruler, he robs a nation;
as a pauvre, he robs a hen roost.
So, with the Philanthropist: as a man of wealth, he establishes a school, a hospital, or alms house; as a man of genius
and talent, he urges reforms in law and in morals; and, if he
is without wealth or talent, he still gives the widow's mite.
Station makes no difference as to the manifestation of the
propensity; though it does, as to the effects of the manifestation.
Virtue comes, sometimes, from the filthy haunts of vice, uncontaminated by the immorality that surrounded it; and sometimes
vice is engendered under the shade of altars. It is said the
consciences of the wicked are seared, as with a red hot iron;
thus a restraining power, which influences materially the propensity, is impaired. The propensity to crime, by the occasional partial loss of conscience of the parent, is transmitted
to the children, by the law of hereditary transmission of qualities; thus, " the sins of the parent are visited on the third
and fourth generation." As to the cause of the different
propensities for good and evil, it may be found in a different
cerebral organization; an organization, in some measure, the
effect of influences, operating from and before the first moment of existence; but the question is, " Is there a difference?"'
not what is the cause of it.




SELECTIONS.                  101
INJUSTICE RUINS.
THE purifying, or sanitive tendencies of the operation of
nature's laws, are evinced in all her works. Diseased action
of the functions of animal, or vegetable organizations, or of
governmental organization, in the political, or of religious
organization, in the moral world, results from  an effort of
nature to expel some noxious influence from the system. The
effort is always proportionate to the amount of the obstruction
to healthy action; and it may be assumed, that the duration of
the contest, and its evil effects upon the system, are in the
same proportion: whether it is so, or not, one side, or the
other, gains the victory; and death, or health, though often,
with impaired organic action, is the result of the contest; which
is often procrastinated by an equality of strength in the contending powers.
The history of ancient and modern nations is all confirmatory
of the proposition, that the constitution, laws, and administration of all governments, must be founded on justice; it is
the element of their strength, prosperity, and duration; while,
injustice is the cause of continual disease, and final disorganization, or death; being, from its very nature, anti-organizational; and though tyrants of every kind and degree, whether
existing in democracies, or monarchies, limited, or absolute,
may strive to maintain their unnatural relations, by every
support, which human force and ingenuity can give, yet the
strong hand of nature, or truth, will prostrate all their puny
barriers on the least relaxation of the artificial force. A nation
may be said to have lost its liberty from the time that it looks
upon the invasion of the rights of its citizens with indifference,
although it may not discover the loss, until the unjust invasion
has become a precedent, or rule, by which other invasions are
justified, no more illegal than the first encroachment, but less
expedient, and more difficult to be endured. If, in violation of
the tenth commandment, A's property may be taken for B's use,




102                   SELECTIONS.
for one object, it may for any other: If it may be taken to enhance the value of B's ten thousand acres, by railroads and
canals, it may be taken to erect for him public baths, a church,
in short, there is no end to the abuse, on pretext, that it is for
the good of the public. If legislation is permitted on subjects
beyond its lawful and proper range, civil government and military defence, individual rights will be the sport of its power,
until the repetition of abuses drives the people to throw off
the disease, and resume their natural rights, and teach their
rulers to confine their action to the objects for which man enters
into the governmental compact. If the first invasion of the
rights of the citizen is tolerated by the people, it is certain
to b- followed by others, which eventually prove fatal to the
government. Whose first unjust movement should therefore
be effectually rebuked: It should not be allowed to tempt citizens to be unjust, nor to become, itself, the tool of cupidity.
Ought not the Chaplains of legislatures to explain the great
iniquity of what is called log rolling? The sinfulness of combinations of the few to rob the many? That injustice cannot
prosper, and necessarily leads to destruction? and that man
cannot repeal God's commandments? The disease of injustice
has never failed to prove fatal to States. Its approaches are
stealthy; offering present advantage, at least to somebody, for
eventual ruin; and soon becomes formidable from neglect.
THE PUBLIC SUBJECT TO PRIVATE INTERESTS.
THE public interest is ever exposed to be sacrificed to private interest.  Generals have been accused of prolonging
wars, and statesmen of occasioning wars, merely to promote
their private fortunes. In the United States, large investments
were made by individuals in forest land. To enhance its
value, emigrants from Europe were invited by favorable laws
to come and govern us. The land speculators were willing to
risk the infusion of foreign habits and monarchical principles
into our masses, if it might advance the value of real estate.




SELECTIONS.                  103
These foreigners now hold the balance of power, and can decide elections. Negro slavery, by all admitted to be a curse
to the States where it exists, and the trade in alcoholic liquors,
and their manufacture, so ruinous and degrading to mankind,
began and continued for private advantage, and for public
sorrow and shame. And we may infer from the past that there
are men who would annex Russia to these United States, if
their individual interest would be benefitted thereby —if it
would increase the value of their lands, or negroes, or if Russian influence, or votes, would give them power to rule their
fellow citizens.
Cupidity is the great disgrace of this nation. It seizes
Jonathan by the crown and crushes him down upon his knees
to beg for the offal population of darkened Europe to come
and govern him: he covets the slavery for the sake of the increase
of his dollars. It thrusts him towards Mexico, and kicks him into
conflict to obtain (at an expense of twenty millions besides) an
opportunity to present his bare back to be striped by Mexican
votes. He forces Mexico to govern him at the instance, not
of mere land speculators, but of holders of stock in negroes, and
of political power founded thereon. These, wishing to enlarge
their power, based on slave stock, are willing to risk the entrance of Mexican ignorance, and prejudices, into our system of
government, for the sake of so partial an object. The State
and Federal governments are constantly wielded for private
and for sectional purposes. Where a railroad, or a canal,
promise great profits, capitalists can scarce be kept from making them; but where they present no prospect of gain the
public crib is appealed to for their construction, by interested
individuals, who seek to enhance thereby, the value of their
town plats, or large tracts of land, and are willing the public
taxes should be increased, that their individual interest may
be improved. Property is taken from one to enrich another by
legislative robbery. The frugal, industrious, and self denying,.
who accumulate a trifle for old age, see that trifle heavily
taxed for the benefit of the fortunate large property holder, or
the poor and the idle, the lazy, the drunkard, the glutton, who




104                   SELECTIONS.
indulges all his passions, and denies himself nothing; who
gets in debt, and then skulks behind bankrupt laws, assignments, exemptions, &c., enacted by kindred spirits, though
elected by those they rob, through sheer carelessness and wanton disregard of the plainest dictates of common sense. Thus
public are made subservient to private interests in a way to
make questionable the proposition, that the interests of "self
and social are the same."  The industrious middle class are
taxed, not only to increase the value of the property of the
extremely rich, but to increase, and promote idle habits in
the poor; and so long as the people mistake the tools of knowledge, for knowledge itself, they will probably progress from
absurdity to absurdity, without suspecting that they are the
soil, which cupidity cultivates for its own purposes. The love
of virtue, and the exercise of a sound common-sense, is the
obvious remedy, but chiefly the latter; for when will monarchs,
especially tyrants, cease to combine with the extreme low, to
oppress the middle classes? Speculators and demagogues do
the same: Tyrants, demagogues, and speculators, consider the
industrious middle class, as their prey, and are too much under
the power of temptation to listen to the voice of virtue. The
middle class, then, must not depend on the moderation, or virtue of the speculator, the tyrant, or the loafer; but exercise a
sufficiency of common sense to avoid divisions in itself on comparatively unimportant matters; such as party names; and the
election of this, or that individual; and maintain a firm union
in support of all measures that affect its true interests and in
confining government to the objects for which. it was instituted,
viz: the protection of person and property, and military defene; for if allowed to transcend these limits, there is no point
at which it may be required to stop more than another; on
pretext of promoting the public good, the industrious will be
taxed to build babels, wash the faces of loafers' children, educate them, build houses for demagogues, dig canals to increase
the value of the land of speculators, &c., &c. When it was
decreed that man should live by the sweat of his brow, avoid
theft, and covet nothing of his neighbor's, it was not implied




SELECTIONS.                  105
that he might, without sin, legislate in contradiction of these
commandments —or lead the people into temptation contrary
to the policy of the Lord's prayer. In republics, their principle of life being virtue, such legislation is suicidal. The children of the rich are often paralized by the prospect of being
able to live without labor;and in proportion as a government
relieves any class of its subjects from exertion, by imposing the
burden of its support and education on the industrious, it treats
them unjustly, violates the divine commandments, corrupts the
class it assumes to favor, by giving them a taste for enjoying
what is not their own, and in so far as they are relieved from living
by the sweat of their brow, it takes from them that incentive to
exertion to which humanity owes its chief glory. The best
specimens of mankind have generally been found on comparatively barren soils, whose cultivation required much labor.
Human wisdom would promote human happiness more, if it
would not lose sight of that which is divine; nor deviate from
the path of justice; nor tempt to be vicious the people, whom
it seeks to imbue with knowledge. To make them  wicked,
while enlarging their power, facilitates the march to perdition:
one educated rogue can do more mischief than a hundred ignorant ones. Republics progress into monarchy, by gradually
departing from the rules aind principles of their founders, and
seeming to forget, that virtue is their life, and vice their death.
The writers have dwelt less on the, need of knowledge, than
virtue, probably, because virtue is instinctly correct, and accomplishes the end. Knowledge can only make virtue more
efficient, not more right; still, the government should, by just
means, take care that the people that are really poor, are
taught reading, writing, and arithmetic; for the rest, a proper
respect for scholastic attainments-the laurel wreath-will
inspire an ambition, and do more to advance knowledge, than
all other expedients.




106                   SELECTIONS.
THE SOURCE AND SUPPLY OF VITAL ENERGY.
THE brain is probably but one organ, and performs but one
function; that is, feeling. Thought, sentiment, memory, &c.,
are but different modes of that feeling. When excited so as to
feel, the blood flows into its vessels, causing a boiling motion,
more or less intense, and proportioned to the strength of the
feeling. Each kind of feeling results from a different motion.
Thus, destructive, or vindictive feeling, is the result of latteral pulsation; while reverential and kind feeling is the result
of vertical pulsation. The pressure against the skull, and the frequently repeated pulsations would cause it to protrude; thus,
giving an outward evidence of the internal action.
The brain is not the source of nervous energy; but rather
the place of its deposit, a point, where nervous energy is expended.
The nervous energy enters the brain by the spinal marrow,
and is collected by all the nerves of the system; being the
highest rarefied material fluid, resulting from the digestive process. This fluid reacts through the system to give muscular
movement and propel the various machinery of life. This action of the voluntary powers denotes a centre of force and action, or will. The muscles that involuntarily move seem independent of the brain, and indicate a distinct nervous apparatus:
These muscles, then, may be the points of expenditure of a distinct ramification of nerves, whose activity is not governed by
the variation of mental disposition; but only affected by the
physical ability of the whole system to generate the requisite
stimulus: This distinct arrangement may be owing to the vital
importance of their continual action.
The mental and muscular exercise, then, should be regulated
by the capacity of the body to produce the nervous stimulus:
If more than the proper amount be absorbed by the nerves of
motion, in the muscles, and in the brain, the drain prevents
the muscles of involuntary motion from receiving the requsite




SELECTIONS.                  10o
amount; they become debilitated, and a general langour pervades the system. The proper measure of the nervous fluid
that is permitted to be abstracted from the involuntary powers
is denoted by a sense of weariness in the brain, muscles,
belly, or other purloining members.  After that feeling of
weariness to continue action, is disobeying the voice of
nature. It is robbing life of its proper aliment. The first
expenditure of the nervous energy, is to supply the organs
necessary to the existence of life: Second, to create mental
and muscular action. This latter action, for the above reasons, should not reach the point of fatigue but should be
continued periodically until weariness begins to be felt; be
cause it is an organic law, that parts or organs strengthen in
proportion to the requirements made of them; and diminish in
size and power in proportion to their disuse. It is this law
that has wrought organic bodies into harmonious proportions;
the useless members withering and disappearing; and the
useful strengthening, in proportion to their wants, and shaping
themselves in conformity to their uses. This conformity being
the result of compromise between the member and the vital
and other organs; it takes that shape which would req(lire the
least vital stimulus to enable it to perform its appropriate function in the animal or vegetable economy. In conformity to
this law, the mental and muscular action should reach periodically the point, where weariness begins, that the functions,
creating the nervous energy, may grow strong, and be capable of supporting vigorous vital action; and also, of amply
supplying the brain and other organs of voluntary motion.
Unless such a course is pursued, the supply of nervous energy
will dwindle to a bare sufficiency to continue the action of
the vital organs, and finally cease: vital action itself not being
required; for action is the end of life; and in conformity with
the law of nature, above alluded to, unless the continuance of
life is demanded of nature, by action, life will dwindle and
die,




108                   SELECTIONS.
DEEDS CONFUTE WORDS.
THE Foreign Reviewers, and their American Echoes, more
deserve our pity than indignation.
The European comes here, where the sun of liberty warms
into life, and stimulates into activity the latent seeds of
genius, that dark ignorance, chilling poverty and all the mandebasing influences of transatlantic despotism had kept dormant. Here he walks in the light of knowledge; here all the
virtues of his being are quickened by vivifying incentives.
Should he not be a better, nobler creature here, where the
god-gifted virtues can find nourishment and develope themselves? No: say the European reviewers. But do they not
see, that in reviling and attempting to belittle the Americans,
they are debasing themselves? If there is a defect here, it is
a family weakness  We are the offspring of the European
nations: In throwing stones at us they hit themselves.
The Genius of the American people has been turned into
those channels, which circumstances required; and it has
shone preeminent. The extent of our territories, variety of
climate. aid diversity of interest demanded a peculiar form
of government; and American Statesmen furnished a more
perfect one than any other people can boast. The immense
extent of our rivers, and the vastness of our internal commerce, made us need a more efficient, and powerful means
of transport; and American Genius produced the Steam
Boat. The extent, and exposed condition of the maritime
border, required the means of defence; and an American has
put it in the power of the government to defend the whole sea
board at a small expense; and another American has provided the electric telegraph, by which intelligence is conveyed in
a moment from one end of our extensive country to the other;
thus enabling the government to bring our wide-spread resources into simultaneous and united action: besides, the patent
offices of this Country, France and England show, that there




SELECTIONS.                  109
are more inventions in this Country, than in both France and
England.
This does not show that we are better and they worse -
but that there are more minds here disenthralled from ignorance, enjoying freedom  of action, and having incentive to
exertion.
AVAILABILITY.
AMONG the corrupting errors that fasten their harpy claws
on Republican humanity in these times, and in this country, is
the idolized doctrine of availability; whose undisputed supremacy of control in American Society, social, and political,
seems to enforce submission, without resistance, even from
those who are unwilling to become its slaves. Its ascendency is
complete; it is the great paramount, who dispenses all posts,
be they of honor or profit. It makes, supports, continues, or destroys relations, social, and political. Availability is the
ruling genius at the nominating caucus; over the Editorial
corps; at the stump; in the bar-room; at the fireside, and
ballot-bx. Not content with dictating who shall, or shall
not be the nominee, or representative, it extends its mastery
over the minds, and consciences of men.
Availability issues its Bull; commanding what principles shall
be adopted, what doctrines shall be preached, and what issues
taken.
Availability is " a monster of such hideous mien, that to be
hated, needs but to be seen," in its true character; "but seen
too oft, familiar with her face, what we abhored, we pity, then
embrace,"-and alas! does the community openly and shamelessly embrace this digusting principle, the flagitious parent of
iniquities. Is a man objected to? a thousand tongues proclaim:
be still, be still; he is the most available candidate; popular
follies; popular prejudices; sectional feelings; party grudges,
and party preferences must be consulted. But your man is unfit; he is too old, or bigotted; ignorant, and idle; diseased in




110                   SELECTIONS.
mind and body; of doubtful morals; and ten thousand voices,
shout: true; but he is the available man; and the world say
Amen. Thus availability outweighs all other considerations 
and reason, and argument, vainly attempt to breast that most
conclusive of conclusions; and an available can only be set
aside by presenting, in the way of set off, another Mr. Available!
Is the course of Republics always downwards, with greater
or less declivity into Monarchy? Does the nature of popular
government require, that ignorance, and prejudice should be
regarded more than knowledge, and wisdom? Is it impossible to enlighten a people so that a majority shall be intelligent,
wise, and virtuous?  Though more weak than strong minds
exist, if the strong would unite, in the support of correct principles, they would uniformly prevail. It is the want of virtue
in this class, more than the ignorance of the multitude that has
ruined so many republics. If God's attributes are impressed
on the laws, or rules of action, governing the moral, or social,
and political conditions, or relations of God's creatures formed
for such conditions, then virtue, intelligence, capacity and individual fitness should be the only passport to public consideration, esteem, confidence, and trust: then, merit, confident of
the meed that awaited it, would leap fearlessly, and ardently
into the arena, animated with noble purposes, and press forward in a career productive of public utility and advantage,
and the fields of science would witness the same energies, and
the paths of useful, and peaceful labors, be trod with the same
ardor, that has urged military aspirants to death or glory.
Availability is likely to exert a pernicious influence on the
individual and national character of the American people: It
is founded on the short-sightedness, that prefers cunning to
wisdom; on that folly which sacrifices the greatest future
benefits, to obtain a supposed present advantage. The youth
steps forth in the morning of life; he looks in upon himself;
communes with his heart, glowing with upright purposes; feels
his own instincts, and pure motives; he looks out on nature;
grasps at God's truths; judges, adopts, and inscribes on his




SELECTIONS.                  I11,standard, his principles, his image: that standard waves over
him, blazoned with his beliefs, and fired with sincerity, he will
bear that standard, and die under it, rather than admit any
thing to be more available than justice, goodness, wisdom, and
truth. He will not sacrifice any of these to popular error, for
the sake of office, or gold; but when he sees almost a whole
nation yielding to the tempter, he will need the firmness of
Abdiel to breast the corrupting torrent.
WHAT DEPRECIATES LABOR,
THE price of labor is depressed by the supply exceeding the
demand for it. In this, labor does not differ from every other thing. What then increases the supply or lessens the demand for labor? Were every cent of capital annihilated in
a country, few could hire laborers. What tends to diminish
capital, therefore, tends to lessen the demand for labor..
Among the causes that depress and diminish capital, is, taxation; sudden changes of measures or policy, occasioning its
derangement, or holding it in suspense; banishment of capital, by unfavorable laws; shifting, or transfering it to new
pursuits; and annihilation of capital by fires, earthquakes,
foreign insolvency, unprofitable canals, rail-roads turnpikes,
&c. For when invested in anything, it ceases to be the means
of payment of wages, except from its dividends. Wages are
low in all heavily taxed countries. A high tax is just as injurious in a democracy as in a monarchy. Oppression is most
felt at the pocket, under all forms of government.'Tis the
same to the tax payer of a high tax, whether the money goes
to build a babel, or pay a sinecurist. If the tax is only moderately high. capital may stand its ground, and continue to
employ labor, at reduced prices; that is, in some hands; in
others it changes its pursuit; takes flight to other lands;
or it may remain suspended, waiting opportunities: but in all
these cases the demand for labor (which must depend on
capital) is diminished; for where capital changes its pursuit




112                   SELECTIONS,
laborers are discharged: the same occurs when it takes
flight to foreign countries; or remains suspended; or is annihilated. This discharge of the operators increases the supply
of laborers beyond the wants of the capital that remains employed; and, by an irrevocable law of trade, a slight supply
beyond the demand, occasions, not a slight, but a great depreciation of the value of the article with which the market is
surcharged. As capital is the basis, the food, and the market
of labor, the latter has reason to protect and cherish it as its
mother. No blow can be inflicted on capital without injury
to labor in an aggravated degree; as the capitalist can travel, but the laborer must live. As to dividing profits between
capitl and labor, nothing but the nature of things can govern the matter: To provoke labor to war on capital, is to
prvoke a seller to assault purchasers, or his customers, in his
only market; because they will pay no more for his commodity, than the price, which the relation of supply and demand
has fixed upon it.
THE CREOLE CASE.
The Creole departed from Richmond, Virginia, bound to
New Orleans with a cargo of slaves, under the charge of one
Merrit. While out at sea the slaves arose, killed Merrit; and
took the ve-sel to Nassau, where they now remain. They
have been repeatedly demanded by our government; but the
British authorities will neither surrender the negroes, nor make
compensation to their owners. We claim, and England refuses. Are we right or wrong? To determine this, we must
apply the principles of existing laws, and not form new ones,
as interest, or convenience dictates.
The laws of nature give to men dominion over all things;
but to all men equality and freedom.
Every man, being by nature free, the power that enslaves
him cannot spring from the same source as the law, which
gave him freedom and equality of right; but must be arbitrary,
and hostile to the law of nature; and is the offspring of force



SELECTIONS.                  113
Nor does the fact of being born of slave parents alter the position, that force is the foundation of slavery. As every man is
born free, by the law of nature, it is at his birth that his freedom is wrested from him, by the force of local laws. This
force of individuals, exercised singly, or collectively, must be
the only right (if it deserves the name) which institutes, and
the only law, which sustains the unnatural relation of master
and slave. The negroes of the Creole were placed in the condition of slaves by the force of the municipal laws of Virginia,
the jurisdiction of which was.necessarily limited to the boundaries of that State. Having passed beyond these limits, the
authority of her local law ceases, and the collective power of
the State of Virginia ceases to sustain the relation of master
and slave. We now view them on the common territory of
the world-the great deep, where the laws of nature, and of
nations alone bear sway: beyond the jurisdiction of the local
laws, that made them slaves, they were to continue as such,
only by their own consent, or the superior force of those who
had them in charge. With no power to support the existing
relations of the two parties but their own force, to that they
appealed. The law of force, which had subjected them formerly to slavery, now gave them  liberty. This d,:cision of
arms reverses the relation of the two parties; and the negroes
had as good a right to take the whites to Africa, as those
whites had, previous to such decision, to take them to New
Orleans. But the negroes did not exert, to that extent, this
prerogative of force; and sailing into the waters of the British
dominions, they, of course, relinquished those rights, which
force had given. They came voluntarily, and with intent
to remain within the jurisdiction of the British law, which
recognises no property in man, whether it be acquired by the
force of those large collective bodies called nations, or by a
troop, or an individual. Had the negroes held the whites in
custody, as property, they would have been compelled to re,
lease them on a writ of habeas corpus; if the whites had held
the blacks on similar grounds, the effect of a writ of habeas
corpus would have been the same; for a claim on a man, as
property, is no sufficient cause to justify a duress under British
8




114                   SELECTIONS.
law. The magistrate, therefore, had no discretion; the law
was positive; and nothing, but the Supreme power of Parliament, could suspend, or abrogate it. Had the negroes, therefore, asserted the claim to the persons of the whites as their
property, because the exertion of superior power had made
them such, or had the whites of themselves, or tlhrough their
government, made the same demands, founded as they must
have been, on similar grounds, the magistrate could not have
granted the request of either party; nor could Parliament; unless it acknowledged a principle repugnant to, and hostile
to the whole system of British law.
Should either of the two parties claim indemnification of
the British government on account of loss of property, supposing the government to have recognised a property in man, and
of course the principle, that force is the foundation of such
right of property, would not the claim of the negroes, as being
the last owners, give them an equal, if not superior title to
that of their white competitors? By whose force, but that of
the negroes, would the parties be found in the Island? a force
still operative, if rights could emanate from it.
The claims of our citizens, through the government, for indemnification, founded on a right of property, are therefore
without foundation; for they have no right of property in the
negroes; and if such right could exist, it would not be in the
owners of the Creole, but those persons, who last owned such
owners themselves.
What is demanded of England? Is it merely the paltry
sum of compensation for a few negroes, or those negro'es themselves? No, it is to admit a principle by such restoration
or compensation, which is unknown to their statutes-and
this we claim in violation of that well established principle of
law, confining the jurisdiction of states to their own limits,
where their own, and no other laws are of force. We claim
that the political and civil disabilities of the Virginia negro
shall follow him into the British empire. This is giving local
law wings to fly, and lungs to breath in an atmosphere, that is
not its own, in some unnatural element. And it is to establish
this principle, that we are to go to war with the most powerful




'SELECTIONS.                  115
fft the nations of the earth! Well, we propose a difficult end.
Great Britain is not the only nation that will refuse to accede to
an unjust demand, and that will sustain the existing legal principles, that govern the subject. The Americans will have the
glory in the Presidency of John Tyler, of having at least attempted a difficult enterprise —if not an unjust one.
Thus much for the claims of the owners of the Creole negroes
through the Government. Let us consider on what grounds
we may claim them, as persons, amenable to our laws. A
government may claim to exercise a jurisdiction over her citizens, wherever they go, and may hold them amenable on their
return, for the violation of her laws; but though a government may claim such right, yet, it cannot enforce it, while the?citizen is within the jurisdiction of another power.
France claims to regulate the conduct of her citizens where-,soever they may be, yet none will declare that the civil, or
political rights and disabilities of Frenchmen follow them
there.
It would be giving the local laws of France a general force
anot consonant with the sovereignty of other states. We therefore cannot demand the Creole negroes, as citizens, or persons
on whom the United States government has claims. If we
may claim a citizen because he is amenable to our laws, is
not our claim equally good, when we demand the service of an
absent citizen in time of war? Surely it is, unless a right
of a government to the possession of the person of a citizen for
service in war is inferior to a right to the possession of his
person in order to punish him; if, therefore, we can succede in
establishing that principle, the European governments will
retain such jurisdiction over all Europeans in this country, or
would make a demand for their service in time of war effectual.
It therefore behoves all foreigners resident here to fight well
to support the principle, that would enable their respective
governments to draft or to demand them for service in China,
India, or some other theatre of war. It is not denied that all
governments have a claim on their citizens, and also, that one
country as a mere matter of comity, has often surrendered
fugitives from justice on the presentation of the claim of their




116                   SELECTIONS.
respective governments. Although I know of no instance of
a government surrendering a citizen for services in war, be
cause demanded by his government, the justice of the claim
being questionable, as it involves the right of expatriation.
Thus even admitting that the negroes on board the Creole
were guility of mutiny and murder, it is quite evident our government, on the principles of law and the usages of nations,
has no right to demand their surrender from the British government
But is it certain that the negroes did commit mutiny and murder, as is alleged, supposing the negroesto have been within the
jurisdiction of the general government? Its powers are limited, and it has only such as the states gave it; they never gave it
the right to hold slaves. It can assume no right; it has not,
then, the power to recognize such right. No law therefore of the
general government was violated by the negroes when they
took proper measures to escape from an illegal duress; consequently, they did not commit mutiny. If in so doing there was
a necessity to take life, they committed no crime; it was not
murder; but justifiable homicide.
This appears to be the situation of the case; and the British
government, in answer to the demands of our government,
have but to quote the decisions of our own courts.
To engage in a war, where our own courts declare us wrong,
would be but a silly pretext, if we even desired a quarrel. We
have many and serious causes of complaint against England,
in which we are unquestionably right. The line between right
and wrong is boldly drawn, and distinctly seen, in the case of
Oregon, where the flag of England waves unmolested over
the territories of the United States. And in the Maine boundary question, where England lays claim to a soil which she
once declared was ours. Why do these questions, which so
deeply affect our national honor; which are so injurious to
our rights, remain unsettled? Which are so important, which
need no nice legal distinctions, no judicial decisions to determine their propriety or impropriety, remain in the back ground,
and the poor, petty, trifling case of the Creole, be the all engrossing subject, the great point of dispute between this nation




SELECTIONS.                   117
dand England? Indeed we see and hear of nothing but the
Creole; our other causes of complaint being mentioned apparently for form.
Is it not because our Government is in the hands of those'whose interests are more affected by the Creole case, than any
thing that might affect Yankee boundaries, and Western territories?
Is it not because our Government is ruled by those who regard their own interest, more than the nation's honor? whose'hearts are so filled with the love of sectional and peculiar in
terests, that general patriotism cannot find room to dwell there
in? Is it not strange that this patriotic sectional love should:so craze the brains of these Government worthies, and their
own Secretary of State, that they could not see the right inclination of the scale of justice; for the eye of reason is dimmed'
when men are strongly prepossessed on one side: therefore it
is not wonderful that the darling object of their hearts should
by them be made the ostensible cause of war with England.
The people of that part of the country, who have not those
peculiar sectional feelings should exercise a self-constituted
guardianship over those official gentry; for it is of some importance to those, who have to support the expenses of war, and
fight its battles, that the grounds of dispute be distinctly understood; that we may know what we are to gain, if we suc-,ceed; or loose, if we fail; and insufficient causes; mere pretexts, should be discarded; for to have just, and unjust causes
commingled, taints the whole. The disgusting deformity of our
unjust claims, will first attract the gaze of men, and prejudice
rightful claims. And is it not of importance, that a cause of
war, be considered just, by mankind? When we have hitherto
appealed to the God of battles, our cause has been just: let
none other be ours; and let us show to the world, that the descendants of the fathers of the Revolution have inherited there
virtues, as well as their valor. May the world never point to
America and say " she bled, that injustice might triumph."




11&8                  SELECTIONS.
EACH excels in that which most pleases, or engages his at
tention; or in that for which his mind has affinity, or taste;:
and taste springs from the conformation,, or disposition of thet
mind, inclining it to particular forms and styles of beauty.
One artist copies the form accurately, another the color, a third:
the spirit, energy, and passion of a scene. Taste should be
regulated by reason, lest the mind should be unbalanced.
He approaches nearest to perfection, who is equally pleased
with all, and equally able to comprehend all; whose imagination never soars beyond the sight of his reason; who equally
perceives the sublime, the beautiful, and the true: such was
Michael Angelo,. Leonardo Da Vinci, Raphael Urbin, Virgil,.
Homer, and Milton.
SOME who would imitate their superiors, accomplish only:
the imitation of their faults.
WISE men do not adopt the weaknesses, but emulate th,
perfections of the great.
WHAT is done, should be done well.. Do y @ur best, if.yo,
would improve.
ON USURY     LAWS'
READ IN THE ST. CLAIRSV1LLE LYCEUM, DEC. 26th, 1841.
AN Usury Law, is an attempt to change the natural relation
of things, and to fix the price of money without any regard for
the demand and supply. As well might legislative wisdom ate
tempt to determine the relative value of every thing. as to fix
that of one..




SELECTIONS.                  119
The controling influence, which the supply and demand exerts in regulating the value of money, and every thing else
operates as continually as the law of gravitation; and as the
attractive power of that law, determines the specific weight of
any particular article, so the relation of the supply to the demand, determines its relative value.
The weight of things is fixed by the one law, their value by
the other. The laws of gravity, always acting with the same
power, the specific weight of things remains always the same;
the supply and demand continually changing, changes as continually their relative value.  Nothing is valuable, but that
which the desires or necessities of men demand. As it is the
supply and demand which determine the value, that must be the
natural law, which governs it.
An Usury Law, attempting to fix the value of money, should
prevent the fluctuation of demand and supply, or it necessarily
fails in the end proposed. One, who, contemning the laws of
gravity, walks over a precipice, but makes an exposition of the
power of that law, he affects to despise.
In the creation of an Usury Law, do we not equally disregard
an established law, governing value, which fixes interest at one
price, while Usury Laws declare it to be another?  Here is
an issue between a law of man, and a law of nature: this declares the use of money worth so much; that says otherwise:
which law prevails is best seen in the effect.  The first effect
of an Usury Law is to increase the value of money, by diminishing the supply. It diminishes the supply by destroying the
inducement to loan; in not allowing capitalists to receive that
value for their money, which the relation of supply and demand
gives to it; charges it with insurance in proportion to the risk
incurred by lenders; drives it from its natural channels; expels the moderate lenders from the money market, leaving it
to sharpers, unchecked by competition, and paralizes much of
the capital of the country, or, at least, prevents its being
invested in loans to animate the business, and aid the
exertions of the industrious. It increases the profits of moneylending in proportion, as it decreases the competition of lenders.
It creates an odious monopoly in favor of that class of usurers




120                    SELECTIONS.
who, b'y high interest, insure themselves against the penalties
of law. This class is not composed of the most conscientious e
these are no longer in the field; but it is composed of the sagacious and adventurous usurers, who, despising a statute that
violates their rights, prove to the necessitous borrowers at an
exorbitant interest, that the relation of demand and supply
still regulates the value of money, notwithstanding the existence of the statute.
Does not an Usury Law fail to produce the effect it seeks?
It is intended to prevent extortion. It increases it. It appears
to seek the relief of the borrower: It inflicts on him the tax
of increased interest, and superadds that of insurance against
penalties. Necessity compels him to borrow. The improvident law closes the door against the attainment of his ends, and
leaves him to perish, or to pay to extortioners increased interest; and woe betides that man, whose poverty incapacitates
him to insure these violators of law against its penalties. This
insurance can only be afforded by the rich, whose interests, as
also those of the lawless extortioners, this law peculiarly favors
by increasing the value of their particular commodities, (money,
and land.) The sharper, without competition, gets what he
pleases to ask of the borrower; and the moderate lender, not
willing to accept the legal rate of interest, invests his money
in land, which consequently rises in value, in proportion to the
demand for it, thus created, and surely this Usury Law affords
a most signal proof of the superiority of the law, which nature
has established to govern the value of things.
Our situation in regard to others may, also, increase the
pernicious effects of Usury laws.
If we are surrounded by states, whose policy differs from
ours in that respect, we drive the money of the country to.the
markets of our more liberal, or rather wiser neighbors; for
capital, in common with produce, seeks that market, where it
is most valuable.
British capitalists held stock in the Bank of the United
States; because it divided more interest than the Bank of
England.
Flour, in 1836, was imported from Europe, where it was




SELECTIONS.                  121
needed, to America, where it was not; because the inflated
currency of this country made it more valuable here. If the
demand made money more valuable in Virginia than an Usury law in Ohio allowed, Ohio capital would seek investment
in the Virginia market, and Ohians would be compelled to go
thither to borrow. Suppose Ohio should attempt to regulate
the price of produce, and, as in an Usury law, disregarding
the demand and supply, fix the value of wheat at one dollar
per bushel. Should the limited supply, and great demand, increase its value to three dollars per bushel, where would our
wheat market be? In Ohio, or the surrounding states? Our
farmers would sell their produce there. Our consumers
would be compelled to go thither to buy.
What would be the effect of a different policy? Suppose the
legal amount of interest were six per cent, without contract
concerning it; but contracts were permitted to be made for
any amount: Thus giving a legal remedy for the violation
of the contract.
The apparent liberality of the terms would attract so much
capital into the state, from states where Usury laws exist,
that the increased supply would reduce the value of money far
below the price sought to be given to it by usury laws.
If our commercial interests require the freedom of contracts,
which Usury laws restrain, our future welfare, as a nation, demands the rejection of those principles, which such laws admit. They declare the contract to pay interest, over a stated amount, a crime, punishable by a penalty. It requires
two to make a contract, which, if illegal, makes all the contractors equally criminal; and it is a principle of law, that
all parties engaged in the commission of crime, are equally
liable. This principle an usury law disregards, and punishes
only one of the offending parties; the other party, it bribes,
(by giving the lender no remedy against him) to violate the
law, and to act unjustly. Thus, in its unequal operation, disregarding justice, and encouraging crime.
An Usury law affects the rights of property. The right of
property is a right established by the laws of nature, and as
sacred as that of liberty or life.




122                   SELECTIONS.
If nature has bestowed on us a right, she has given it perfect, and its valuation is necessarily the exclusive prerogative of its posessor. The borrowing majority, by an Usury
law, attempt to deprive the lending minority of this prerogative: thus assuming to such a degree the right of property,
as to declare the price, at which its owner shall give it to
them; and, in proportion as the real value exceeds the legal price, that proportion is endeavored to be legislated out
of the hands of its owner. The principle, which admits the
assumption in the majority, of the right of property, to such
a degree, as to determine its value, not the value which they
will give, but that which the owner shall take, would sanction
a further assumption of property, and would lead to an equal
distribution of wealth. The principle that admits the infraction, permits the destruction of the right of property, and of
those other equally sacred rights of liberty and life. What
usurpation, what injustice, does not such a principle sanction?
If the political disadvantages, which result from the passage
of an Usury law, do not argue sufficiently against it, the
admission of so unjust a principle, a principle so pregnant with
future ills, should, of itself, be sufficient to outweigh any selfish motive, or vulgar prejudice, that could be adduced in its
support. The principles, which any law embraces, should be
carefully scrutinized: Let not an imaginary present benefit,
resulting from its passage, induce the admission of an unjust
principle in legislation; lest there be reaped the fruits of
folly, in the deadly harvest, that springs from the seed of injustice.
Laws emanate from principles, and sound or unsound, the
law partakes of the nature of its source.
Principles precede, and laws follow: Principles are the
rule of action in the formation of law.
Having seen that Usury laws do not prevent, but aggravate
Usury; that, to decrease the interest of money, we must encourage, and not discourage the making of loans; and thus,
increase the supply of money as, also, induce competition,
whose tendency is to diminish prices, we may infer that such
laws, are the unwise creations of misguided, and ignorant leg



SELECTIONS.                   23
islation, at war with the interests of those they are intended
to protect; in opposition to sound principles of political economy, and the nature of things, regulating value, and ought to
be rejected.
MAN    MAY   BELIEVE CONSISTENT WITH           HIS
REASON.
OUGHT one to believe anything inconsistent with reason?
Reason means right, as distinguished from error, or wrong.
Reason is truth, as distinguished from falsehood. All nature
is harmony; and truth, and right, and reason, are but the consistency of thing with thing, as part of nature. But error and
falsehood are unreasonable, unnatural, inconsistent with all
other things, and discordant in their nature. This must be,
if nature is all harmony; for truth, nature, right, and reason,
mean the same thing. They are the component parts of nature.
How then can a belief in anything, inconsistent with reason, be
but a belief in error? And what good is produced from a
bad? What right is born of wrong?
If all nature is harmony, and has, as is demonstrable, a principle of self-preservation, that harmony is disturbed by the consequences of an unreasonable belief; and that principle of selfpreservation is exerted against the offender, to rectify the
disturbance; and this exertion is always proportioned to the
flagrancy of the violation: and this is true throughout nature;
in the physical, metaphysical, and etherial parts, or divisions,
of the great, perfect, and harmonious whole. It is useless to
produce examples: it must be self-evident, that all beliefs
contrary to nature's self, or nature's laws, are equally absurd;
and actions resulting from such beliefs, are proportionately
pernicious: For beliefs are of consequence, only as they control
actions: Belief is the principle whence actions spring: and can
good, or useful actions come from bad, or mistaken, or erroneous, or unreasonable principles? If a man believed that




'24                   SELECTIONS.
wood was harder than iron, and tried, influenced by his belief,
to chop an iron log with a wooden axe, he would break his
axe, without gaining his object. If a man were to believe it
best to hate men, and not love them, and act accordingly, it
would render his path of life a path of thorns; and thus, force
him to discard his unreasonable belief, and, in a measure at
least, to adopt the more reasonable doctrine of Love. The
several parts of a machine must move in harmony with each
other; and man, his body, and his mind, are but parts of the
machine of nature. Unless he can control nature, he must act
as a part of nature: and, as such, act in harmony with the laws
of his own nature, and of all things beside-that is, with reason: for it is a part of the universe. God made the world; it
bears the test of his hand, and evinces the high attributes of
its Creator; and God is not an unreasonable being.
Man ought, then, only to believe things consistent with reason, as any other belief is error, and injurious in its effects.
But what is belief?  It is a conviction of the mind; an
impression, produced by perception, or reflection, or both; a
result of causes, over which we sometimes, have no control.
Belief takes possession of us, independent of our will, and we
cannot escape its control. It may be unreasonable, or reasonable; yet, be it what it may, it has possession of us, and we
cannot reject it by our will, for the will is the creature of
belief. It can only be removed by causes, similar to those
that produced it.
The perfection, or imperfection, of cerebral organization, or
of mind: Or the sufficiency, or insufficiency, of the facts, or
circumstances, or materials of thought, control the nature of
beliefs, and render them more or less reasonable, or unreasonable. What, then, ought man to do? Believe, he must; if he
sees, or hears, or feels, or thinks, he must have impressions, and
reflections, and, consequently, beliefs: and all try to believe
right, and reasonable, according to their perception of right,
though they may deny their beliefs. Yet, even then, they may
believe it best to deny. Ought man, then, to believe what is
inconsistent with right reason? Yes, he ought to do that




SELECTIONS.                  125
which he cannot avoid doing: It is consistent with reason that
he should: He must believe, sometimes, what is inconsistent
with right reason, if it be consistent with his reason, or his
power to distinguish truth from falsehood.
ON   PAINTING, AND     BALANCING      THE MIND.
EXTRACT-ST. CLAIRSVILLE, JUNE, 184L
TIME has fled, almost unnoticed, since I left New York. I
arrived here on the twentieth of February, and earnestly commenced the study of the law. In the latter part of May, feeling a strong desire to design, I began the landing of Julius
Caesar in Britain; and completed the draft in the month of
May. The piece contains some forty figures. The subject is
a good one, as it affords variety of action. On one side can
be displayed the wild fury of a disordered mass of barbarians:
on the other, the determined courage of the Romans in the
endeavor to advance. The confused disorder on the beach;
the descent, from the gallies to the small boats; the rowing,
pulling, struggling, and the great variety of posture that would
necessarily attend an engagement so circumstanced, might be
embodied, with effect, in a painting, had the artist skill adequate to the undertaking. But the grossness of the material
with which the painter recreates the creations of his fancy,
destroys the vivacity of th3 original conception: his field is
measured, and he must confine himself to it, however extended
be his ideal range: he cannot paint the roar of conflicting hosts;
nor the sightless swiftness of action; nought but the visible
emotions of the actors can be painted; while the invisible, but
more interesting, cannot be dbpicted. There is much to be
learned, in every science and profession; so much, indeed, that
the author of the Essay on Man, is almost justified in saying,
that
One science, only, will one genius fit,
So vast is art, so narrow human wit.
This might appear true, had not the Creatorbestowed on us




126                   SELECTION~S.
different faculties, fitted to different pursuits, whose cultivation,
or neglect, strengthens, or weakens, those faculties, or powers
of the mind, which those callings respectively employ. There
is scarcely any science, whose study does not require an unequal
exertion of the faculties of the mind. This unequal exertion
will, in time, give the powers exerted superior vigor, and
strength, and thus destroy the nice balance which Nature has
given: and thus it, to me, appears impossible to arrive at a
high degree of perfection in any branch of useful knowledge,
without the acquisition of many others. What acquirement is
not useful to a lawyer? If he were prosecuting, or defending
a general, or an admiral, would not a knowledge of military,
or maritime affairs, be of great use to him, in conducting the
prosecution, or defence? Would he not be enabled to elicit,
and to see the bearings of the evidence, in a clearer light, in
such, and in all other cases, whose facts lie within the sphere
of his previous studies? I believe it may be safely assumed
that the more one knows of many things, the more capable he
is of understanding and illustrating any one thing; yet the
study of many things, with a constant regard to their bearing, on
a particular thing, is but the study of such particular thing, and
its relations to other matters; and, consequently, the student's
proficiency in a science, would be in proportion to the relation
which the aggregate ot his studies bore to the science, whether
his mind were bent on the particular science, exclusively, or
on sciences illustrative thereof. Thus, by the study of languages, though they are afterwards mostly forgotten, one is
permanently improved in the knowledge of his native tongue:
The explanation of the foreign, by English words, impresses
these on the memory, in association often with the words from
which they are derived, and though the student indifferently
understand the foreign, he finds.himself advanced in the English language: Still, this is not the best way to learn it; though
the surest, the cost exceeds the utility; if the object be to
obtain a knowledge of the English alone,




SELECTIONS.                 127
ON THE ADMISSION OF THE INDIANS INTO
THE UNION.
LYCEUM, 1838.
MIGHT we not admit the Indians, after duly preparing them
for the event, into our Union, with all the social, and political
privileges appertaining to the whites? The time of admission
should be determined by their capability to assume the duties
of civil government, which can only be ascertained by their
advance in the arts, and sciences, which are essential to the
prosperity and happiness of civilized communities: a condition
which it is our moral and political duty to attempt to produce.
That it is practical, as well as just; that the Indian possesses
those mental qualifications and capacities, which, by cultivation,
may become suited to such a condition, cannot in reason, admit
of a doubt: the same capacity that can plan, and execcute a
campaign; the same force of thought, that has distinguished
many an untutored son of the forest, in debate with the white
man, at numerous councils, and treaties, held between the two
races; the same hardihood of constitution, command of feeling
and ingenuity in the adaptation of means to ends, that he has
evinced in his connexion with his pale faced exterminators, and
which has won for him, even from his persecutors, the appellation of " noble Indian," would, under the influence of civiliza'
tion, when impelled by different motives, and improved by cultivation, be manifested in a different, and a stronger manner.
Thomas Jefferson, to remove the prejudices, that existed in
Europe, against the insalubrity, and deteriorating influences of
our climate on the mental and physical constitution of man,
called the attention of the world to the Indian character, and
capabilities; thinking it doubtless, a strong and irrefutable argument to remove the prejudices of the Europeans against our
climate. The unlettered Indian has had no historian from
among his own people, to tell mankind of his virtues, and to




128                   SELECTIONS.
rescue his deeds from oblivion; but the perpetuation of his
memory has been left to his foes. Yet, even the faint and imperfect outline, which they have sketched, present him to our
minds, as not naturally inferior. In forming our judgment of
his capacity, we must weigh the circumstance of his condition.
His intellectual force, as evinced under the unfavorable influence
of the savage state, admitted to be considerable, by the common consent of his white neighbors, afford a sufficient guaranty of his usefulness, as a citizen, as also of his capacity to assume
that condition.  Yet, the Inidian has his vices, and who has
them not?  " Judge not, lest ye be judged."  The prisons; the
gibbets; the navies; the armies, marshalled for war; the
bleaching bones of a thousand battle fields; the clanking chains
of enslaved millions; the squalid pauperism  of oppressed
masses, bear most mournful evidence of the selfishness, violence,
and fiendish vices of people calling themselves Christians. Let
them not arraign the Indian; nor refuse to share with him the
benefits of their science and virtue, because he partakes of their
vices; vices which have sorely afflicted him; and which may
God pardon us, for bringing upon him.
Though the Indian partakes of our vices, we find him endowed with many virtues: he is constant in friendship; has a
noble sense of justice; is confiding in his nature, and generous
in his disposition; and has, in an eminent degree, the religious
sentiments; for whose exercise, and gratification, he has, without the aid of revelation, formed a religion for himself, which,
in the opinion of Red Jacket, was productive of more practical
utility, than what seemed to flow from the professors of Christian creeds.
Apart from the question of practicability, arising from a
supposed intellectual and moral incompetency of the Indian for
citizenship, the Indian's rights and our duties, demand his admission. It is a debt claimed by justice, in his behalf; and
which we should pay, though it should give us some inconvenience; and give to the few remaining Indians the privilege of
having a civil equality in a country of which we have deprived
them by purchase, for an insufficient consideration, or by open
violence.




SELECTIONS.                  129
If no claims of justice can move us to give equality of privileges to the Indian, self interest, and sound policy, require that
all the inhabitants of a country should have identity of interest
therein. Where one class has greater rights than another, that
other, is, of necessity, an enemy: and civil discord, and national weakness, are the necessary consequence.
When you refuse to another, equality of civil privileges, you
ioppress him: he justly considers you his enemy; and he is
yours; and if a foreign foe, in contesting with us, should offer
to the oppressed inducements, he would fight for his foreign
friend, and our enemy. It would be rightthat he should do so;
for, should he fight for us, his oppressors, he would war on himself; his every effort would be suicidal; and the suicidal spirit
is prohibited in Holy Writ; and charity required to begin at
home. All classes composing a nation, should be united in its
support; and wise Statesmen will be careful to cultivate such
unity of action, remembering, that "a kingdom divided against
itself shall fall."
ON BANKING.
BEAD IN THE LYCEUM, AND PUBLISHED IN THE ST. CLAIRSVILLE,
GAZETTE, APRIL 29, 1842.
ThE increase of Bank paper decreases the value of money,
and increases that of commodities; in effect, therefore, it operates as a depreciation of coin, and is injurious to the money,
holders; because it depreciates the value of their property,
while it increases the relative value of the property of those.
who are possessed of land and other commodities.
About one half of the wealth of a country is in action for
debts due, on contracts to sell at a given price; these contracts are based upon, and these debts owing, in money. The
amount of the value represented by the money is known, and
it is for this value the contract is made, and the debt- owed;,
9




130                   SELECTIONS.
the amount of value, however, is designated by a stated
amount of its representative, money.
As the issue of Bank notes varies this relation between
commodities and money, it alters the obligation of all monied
contracts, and lessens the amount of the debt by causing a direct loss to the creditor; it is thus, that all rights of action
on debt, all property in transitu, by contract or otherwise,
through the medium of money, are affected by the emission of
bank paper, and one of the contracting parties is released
from obligation in proportion to the loss of the other contracting party. The unjust effect of the issue of bank paper is best
seen by presenting an extreme case: If the issue should be
so excessive as to make a hundred dollars represent what one
represented at the timd a debt was contracted, would it not
amount to an absolution from all debts contracted previous to
such inflation? It is therefore an indirect way of cancelling
debts, and releasing obligations; and such is the effect of the
least issue of paper money, so far as it has any effect at all.
Is not this a dangerous power in the hands of demagogues?
What is there to insure the nation against its abuse? Parties in power have heretofore bought the favour of the people
by gratifying their avarice, and parties, yet to exist, will
abuse it more. As the evil complained of is aggravated by
every new charter of a bank, the above reasons could be
urged why no new banks should be created.
To injure the capacity of the banks, already created, to pay
their debts, by an unnecessary severity of law, or to shorten
their existence, would throw on the debtor that injustice,
which their creation did to the creditor. When we view the
question in this light, justice, as well as policy, would require
the most imperious necessity to justify this disregard of individual rights, or some great national advantage to be gained:
here is a direct injury to the money holders, and loss to the
creditors; which loss is a gain to the debtor and borrower.
The supporters of the system of banks of discount and circulation assert, that the issue of three dollars in paper for one in
stock, is justifiable; because the institution is thereby enabled
to loan at one third the market value of money; and thus, the




SELECTIONS.                  131
law, by giving the bank credit, enables it to extend the same
benefit to others in an equal degree. This is self evident and
needs no argument to support it; there is more money loaned
and at a less interest, than would otherwise be, and consequently money is more accessible to the mass of the people. Here,
I would observe, that it is necessary to make the distinction
between money, or rather the representative of value, and valne itself. If the issue of bank paper created value, the benefit
conferred on the borrower would be as great as the amount ot
money he received; but the value, which money represents;
is not increased with the representative, it therefore represents less value than it did before the issue increases
its amount. He, therefore, who pays less interest through
the effect of bank inflation, must observe, that the same
cause that decreases the interest, decreases, also, the va.ue of the money he receives; for the commodities it repre
cents do not become more valuable, but the money less valuable. He who paid eighteen per cent for thirty three dollars,
to buy one hundred bushels of wheat, before the issue of bank
paper, paid no greater interest on the actual value received,
than he who paid but six per cent, on one hundred dollars, to
buy the same amount of wheat, after such issue. In both in
stances the same per cent, is paid on the amount of wheat,
or value received, but not on the money. Thus it is, that
banks, of themselves, do not give credit any advantage over
that it hitherto posessed; as no more real value is loaned at a
less interest for its use.
There is, however, an advantage to credit, by the effect
which the competition in loaning exerts in diminishing the
rate of interest on all loans made by private individuals 
this indeed is the great and only benefit to credit, which the
banks exert. But from whom is this benefit to credit derived? From that class of citizens, whose property was reduced in value, by the emission of bank paper, the competition
of which now reduces its profits. This loss by the moneyed interest of the country, first, in the depreciation of the value of
their property by the issue of paper money; secondly, by the
loss of its profits by the paper competition, is all that is gain,




132                   SELECTIONS.
ed in favor of credit by the present banking system. Poor
argument that, which is drawn from injustice, and odious is
that credit system, whose growth depends on the infringement
of rights. The money invested in stock is not decreased in
value; because its representative, the paper, swells with the
decrease of the value of money. If the proposition be true,
that the emission of bank paper changes the relation between
money and the value it represents, unless there is a correspondent increase of commodities to the amount issued, the conclusion is unavoidable, that the amount of value first represented by the original stock, is all a bank can loan, no matter
how much paper they issue; for each new issue makes the prior
one less valuable.
Those who borrow of the banks, in the first of their issues,
received an amount of value, which decreased at each new
issue. It is then in the power of the banks, by expansion, or
contraction, to regulate the amount of interest received on
their stock, or value, which is loaned. As the borrower has
no control over this expansion, or contraction of the representative of value, which the bank loans him, he cannot regulate
the interest he pays on a stated amount of the value he receives. Viewing banks of circulation in this light, does it not
appear that all bank stock is a fund established for usury or
extortion.?
This usurious interest on the amount of value, or stock,
which is invested, enables the banks to divide large dividends:
twelve, to twenty per cent, was not uncommon in states, where
private loans produced but six or seven per cent. It is for
this reason, bank shares sold so high above par. It may be
objected to this argument, that all have the power to become
stock holders: The objection is unsound, unless there are
banks sufficient to receive, as stock, all the money of the
country: a point heretofore sufficiently proved, by the willingness of many to pay sixteen per cent premium, on shares, for
the privilege; showing, that if all had an equal chance, no
one would have to purchase it,
For the reasons alleged above, I cannot conceive of any
commercial necessity, or advantage, that would justify the




SELECTIONS.                  133
state legislatures in the retention, or exertion of a power so
fraught with injustice, and so dangerous, if abused; which, if
used with moderation, lessens the obligation of debts; if immoderately, in some measure, cancels them. Finally, it is the
power, indirectly, used, of releasing monied obligations. If
the states would enter into a compact not to use it, there:
would be no surrender of right; the people would have a security against injury, which they have not, as long as they admit the existence of such power. As there are many, who ex
cuse injustice, if it conduces to convenience, or appears to be a
source of profit, I deem it necessary to prove that the Banks
of discount and circulation do not supply the necessities of
trade, any more than banks of deposit; nor do they give that
energy to trade, which is ascribed to them; for they are a
source of loss to the nation; or if productive of any incidental
advantage, they are injurious to the people as a whole. I
know no better method to prove this, than to recur to the
causes, which make a currency necessary, and that have had
some influence in producing the changes it has undergone; as
also to answer some arguments urged in support of banks being necessary, convenient, and profitable.
The necessity of trade first introduced money to settle balances due, or to purchase with, when the buyer had nothing to
barter to the seller, which he wanted. Its great value, compared with its bulk, facilitated and gave energy to trade; its
solidity prevented much loss by abrasion &c; the difficulty
of obtaining it from the mine, secured its possessors against any
great depreciation of value by increase beyond that of the commodities it represented; and the ready exchange it always
offered, made it safe to hoard. The commercial world, however, had long felt the inconvenience and danger of transporting large amounts of specie, to supply the difference of exchange. The wants of commerce were supplied by the introduction or obtrusion on the world of a Deposit Bank, viz: As
the hoarding of specie tempted robbers; the rich merchants of
Amsterdam, made deposits with the police, and took certificates
thereof; and these were transferred from man to man, and
passed as money. By the creation of similar Deposit Banks at




134                   SELECTIONS.
the great commercial points, the certificates of each were transferred instead of specie; thus facilitating large dealings, as the
metals had formerly done in smaller transactions.
These Deposit Banks gave the first idea of those of discount
and circulation; for men observed, that one third of the specie
deposited, sufficed to redeem all such certificates, as were, in
the common course of business, presented to be cashed. This.
discovery showed that one third of specie on the amount issued, was sufficient to maintain the credit of the paper; though
it did not prove that the amount could redeem all the paper;
but only such amount, as in the course of business, would be
presented for redemption, during the existence of the bank, and
that too in good credit. If, therefore, necessity should ever require the use of credit, this accidental experiment showed a
way to use it to suit a sudden emergency. It might possibly
be justifiable in a nation to make such issue on credit, in case
of war; when its existence depended on obtaining a supply of
money, as its future revenues (which would be applied to the
redemption of such paper) would be represented by that paper;
and might give energy to the contest, and safety to the nation.
Credit, thus, is a tax upon the future; it calls into action future resources, which nothing but the most urgent necessity
can justify; because every age should support itself; and future times may need as much as the present. The experience
of the Amsterdam Bank showed a nation how to extricate itself from difficulty, arising from want of funds; by means it
would be improper, as also unjust to use, unless such emergency created necessity.
But while the Amsterdam Bank gave this useful experience
to the world, it also showed avarice the means of gratification:.
it saw that one dollar, in specie, could sustain the credit of
three in paper; but should a necessity arise, to redeem all the
issues in a short time, one-third in specie would be insufficient. The future resources, on which credit is based, the bank
had not; the calls of avarice, therefore, could not be satisfied,
unless means could be found to supply the deficiency between
one, and three. These means were supplied by a self protecting principle in the banking system, which appears to be the




SELECTIONS.                  135
following: The banks issue an amount of paper; for this,
they get the amount of value represented by that much money
at the time the issue was made; this is all correct: the holder
of the paper money can get it redeemed, in specie, on presentation. (I allude only to specie paying banks.) Another issue
is made, and another; each succeeding issue decreases the
value of the money of the former one; while it does not diminish that value which the bank received in lieu thereof. By
this operation, that value, which the banks received for, say
one hundred dollars by the first issue, in the change of the relative value of money by increase, say of three dollars to one,
would redeem three hundred dollars, merely by the operation
of this self-protecting principle. This, however, is based on the
supposition, that the value received by the first borrowers is
immediately vested in something of substantial value. It was
thus, that avaricious desires, or acquisitiveness, induced the
creation of banks of discount and circulation; while the necessities of commerce, induced the adoption of metals, and banks
of deposit.
Avarice, like all other passions, wants not specious pretences
to justify its gratification.  It is said by the supporters of the
banking system, that the increase of commodities, being more
rapid than that of money, the wants of commerce require legilative provision to supply the deficiency. In answer, I would
say; first, that the inability to determine the amount necessary,
prevents a proper remedy. Secondly, it is untrue, that such
increase of commodities creates a want of representation, as it
only alters the relative value between such commodities and
money; and it is not material, whether a given amount of value
be represented by one, or two dollars. It is said banks of circulation facilitate exchanges: For the reason given above I
cannot give them any preference over deposit banks; but the
depreciation of their local paper, may increase the cost of such
exchanges. It is said the small notes: such as ones, and threes,
give an activity to the currency, which gold, and silver cannot.
I admit it; but would not the issue of one dollar certificates
of deposit be of equal benefit? It is urged in favor of banks of
discount and circulation, that they increase the amount of




136                   SELECTIONS.
money in a country, and that where money is plenty, it is
easier for the poor to get their share of it; that where money
is scarce, and wages low, the laborer must remain poor. If
man lived on money, and drew sustenance from it, I should
think so too; because the fare would be more plenty: but as
it is a representative of value, and as the laborer works for
value, it is of little account to him, whether that value be represented by twenty-five cents, or a dollar. Here all the supporters
of banks abandon argument, and attempt to sustain themselves
by matter of fact. In Europe, they say, the laborer gets but a
few pence a day, and is, and must remain poor. This is attributing to a specie currency, what should be attributed to those
laws, which, in all monarchical countries, exalt the rich, and
depress the poor. All these countries have an idle and expensive nobility and court to uphold; and it will impoverish any
class of men who are charged with their support; and who
but the operative is it, that supports or enriches any nation. If
the property of his employer is taxed, it comes indirectly out of
the wages of labor: if he is taxed directly, it is but taking
from him, what in the other instance, it prevented his employer
from giving him. It is therefore the amount of value the laborer
gets, and not the small amount of money, that impoverishes the
laborer of Europe.
Yet this is the argument drawn from facts, that Governor
Davis, and others, have advanced to support the proposition
that the amount of money received, determines the riches or
poverty of the laborer. Do not the facts show truly, that the
amount of money received as wages is immaterial, provided the
laborer receives a sufficient amount of value? Governor
Davis also asserts, that the tea and coffee and other foreign
productions, are bought with gold and silver: that it will take
more time for the laborer to earn the money to buy them, if his
wages are reduced to a specie basis! This is a sophism, taken
in totality, of which the component parts are truths. 1 do not
think those productions could be imported cheaper than they
are; and if it took the same amount of money to buy them, that
money would be harder to get, at reduced wages. But as those
commodities are not bought with bank paper, its value being




SELECTIONS.                  137
merely local, they are obtained by exchange of productions, or
by specie; so that they are got only by giving real value for
them now, and cannot be obtained hereafter, but by the same
means: so that it is immaterial whether there be bank paper or
not; they cost the nation, as a whole, the same. But will the
capacity of the nation to purchase such articles be increased by
having an exclusive metallic currency, or what is the same in
effect, a mixed circulation of specie and certificates of Deposit
Banks? I aver it will not have less, but even greater capacity
for such purchase. First, there will be more specie in the country
to represent that value, which is now, in a measure, represented
by the paper:-it being the nature of a representative to seek
that place, where most value is represented by it. This is the
nature of all money, and its continual operations to equalize
representation every where: it is from this cause that the gold
of Spain, sought representation in the other European states.
Considering bank paper, therefore, as good money (and it is as
good as any, where it brings specie on demand) its effect is to
give property a greater representation than the same has in
countries, which have a metallic currency: The tendency of
things is to keep a continual drain from such country, through
a thousand various ways until such representation is equalized.
As the paper has only a local value, it is the specie that will
leak out of the nation, through every chink, gap, and crevice.
If we adopt the metals as a currency, and have not our share,
the reverse will be the case, and it will flow in, until we get
such share. It is thus by the natural operation of money, because of its being a representative of value, that we would have
more specie to purchase the foreign necessaries of which Governor Davis speaks. But I contend that there would be less necessity to use such specie for such purpose, as our exports would
be greater, and the exchanges might be in our favor; and specie
would be paid to us by other nations, instead of its being exported to pay them.
Wehave a productive soil, and more can be produced with
less labor, than in most countries of the world: There is
less requisition in the shape of taxes, tythes &c. on the products of labor, than there is in any other country; therefore,




138                  SELECTIONS,
what is consumed by bishops, kings and nobles in other countries, could here be given to the wages of the labourer.
Thus our operatives would be better paid, and our capitalists
reap golden profits, in successful competition with all the hard
money countries of the world. But this we cannot do, while
we have an inflated paper currency. We cannot export so
much, or to such good advantage, for the monied cost of production, (unless the exceeding fertility of the soil makes up
the difference,) and this cost prevents exportation to countries, where there is but, comparatively, little money to represent value. Here it may be said, we did export during our
greatest inflation. If we did, were not the commodities, so
exported, sold at a profit? and would not we be able to sell
those same commodities for as much, if we had a metalic currency; and could not the exporter afford to pay as much specie to the laborer, who produces them, as he now receives
of paper money? I aver that his profits would be greater,
all things considered. First, there would be more demand for
labor; because all the commodities now exported, would continue to be exported. Many articles that cannot now be exported would then be exported. Second: The expense of
living would not be so great: because the money now expended for imported manufactures would not then be paid;
because those articles would be made at home, and furnished
cheaper, as the expense of transportation would be saved, and
the cost of maufacturing be less, or only equal. The excessive profits, received on our productions, are owing to the
natural advantages of our country; which have enabled us to
export, notwithstanding the counteracting influence of an expanded currency. We have not such great manufacturing advantages, and are not able to compete on such disadvantageous terms. If however all things are equal, we can compete
in manufactures, but not otherwise. It is for the above reasons that with a specie currency, we can compete in manufactures with the European nations, without reducing the operative to the degraded condition of theirs; for, I repeat it
again, our natural advantages, and the comparatively trifling
burden of the government, enables us to give more value to




SELECTIONS.                  189
the operative than he receives in Europe; and it is immaterial
whether that value be represented by a little money, or a
great deal. But Ishall be told, that those advantages, represented as arising from manufacturing competition, can be obtained as well without a metallic currency, as with one. This
cannot be proved by argument; and Governor Davis again has
to resort to matter of fact, and says:"That England, with a paper circulation, has competed triumphantly and successfully with the other states of Europe,
who had a specie currency."  This is true; but I consider it
an unfair example to prove the effect of a similar policy in
this country; nor will. the policies pursued in monarchical
governments, always produce the same effects in republics.
The operative in England gets more money for his labor in
England, than in any other country of Europe. But the unremitted toil of old and young, and their wretched poverty
show conclusively, that the operative of England, if he gets
more money for his labor, than the operative of the rest of
Europe, does not get more actual value if as much. What is
taken from capital for the support of most Governments of
Europe, in England, is taken from the operative for the same
purpose; as also to favor capital. In confirmation of which,
I will instance one law, viz: That which compels the dead to
be buried in woolen. This is but detracting from the poor
man's wages to advance the interest of his empfoyers.
The poor operator thus virtually gets less for his labor,
though he nominally gets more than the operatives of the rest
of Europe. And the commercial prosperity of England, is
owing to the great industry of her inhabitants, and amount of
commodities produced by unpaid labor.
Her merchants have grown rich, her kingdom powerful, on
the unrequited industryfof the poor —wretched prosperity that,
over which a people mourn, and a class rejoices! Notwithstanding the United States exported during the inflation, by
means of her natural advantages, I have reason to believe that
the unpaid labors of millions, assisted her much to maintain
such capacity. So much for Governor Davis's argument,
founded on facts, to show. that an inflated currency is not det



140                   SELECTIONS.
rimental to commercial competition; and for the favorable inference he would give to the Banking system; because of its
having been adopted by two of the most enlightened nations
of the world.
In this Essay I have considered the Banks as well conducted, and able to redeem their paper dollar for dollar, in specie. The evils that have been attributed to them are such as
ar6 inherent in, and inseparable from the system, leading to
the inference, that they are unjust, or unnecessary, and impolitic, and that their benefits could all be secured in state deposit banks, which might issue their certificates of deposits,
as small as they saw fit. I have said nothing of those expansions and sudden contractions that can be said to be
more than probable; nor of the many and dear interests of the
people that are made to suffer by the mismanagement of the
banks; nor of the effects, which a mutable currency produces,
in damping the energies of a people, and preventing the employment of capital.
[ADVICE ON ADDRESSING A JURY.-EXTRACT.
THERE is no difficulty in trying a cause, if you understand
it well. In addressing a jury, remember your object is to
convince them; dash into your case; explain it; present it, so
they cannot misunderstand. Do not think of the spectators, as
whether they are pleased, or displeased, with your manner;
but only think of gaining your point: keep your eye on victory,
and push on, and all will think that you are an old, experienced,
and crafty speaker. It is the infantile timidity, and fear of
failure, that makes many a man, endowed with natural talents
for speaking, miscarry. Speaking seems to me like swimming:
some swim well at the first trial; because they are not afraid
of sinking; others require years of practice. So with public
speaking. Some leave the anvil or the plough, without much
education, and surpass in eloquence hundreds of well-educated




SELECTIONS.                  141
tremblers. Be filled with your case, and pour out what is in
you, in the humor you are in at the time of speaking: talk as
you feel, and act as you feel, and you will talk and act naturally: and you may throw all the rules of the writers on the
shelf, if you adopt that natural rule: It is the rule of rules.
THE memory of all the parts of a case is strengthened by
uniformly considering all subjects systematically. The mind
thus may be habituated to arrange, remember and recall, at
pleasure, whatever is needed. Habit thus may be made an
index to all the stores of memory.
To have a readiness of recollection, on occasions, one must
be able, by a memorandum, or sign of some leading feature,
to bring the whole subject before his mind, as if it were a
human image, with its head, arms, legs, all in their right proportion and place.
ALL GOVERNMENTS ARE EFFECTS OF WHICH
THE PEOPLE ARE THE CAUSE.
THE Government, as the head, partakes of the nature of the
body of the people. All Governments must suit the condition
of the people; for their existence depends on the people: the
people are the roots from which the tree of Government grows:
It is the moral condition of the people that determines its nature and form. Governments are purely dependent: Every
change in the moral condition of the people, produces a corresponding alteration, for better or worse, as the case may be,
in the administration of the Government; or, if the case demands it, in the form of the Government. Every Government
is necessarily a representative Government. Yes, every Government that now exists, or ever has existed, has represented




142                   SELECTIONS.
the intelligence and virtue, or the ignorance and immorality of
the people.
It follows, that every Government has been the best Government, all things considered, that its people, under the
circumstances, could possibly have had. Russian barbarity is
well represented at St. Petersburgh; and so is Russian energy.
Increase, to a high degree, the morality and intelligence of the
subjects of any Autocrat, Sultan, or ruler, whatever, and his
Government becomes gradually modified, in accordance with
their improvement, being borne along on a sea of moral power.
Mark, at Washington, the faithful representation of the profligacy of a portion of our people; of the principle, that " might
gives right," threatening encroachment on other nations. In
the face of the world, we hear cries for plunder; and the Government is about to second the call. The virtuous and intelligent of the land, though represented, are out-voted by the
mammon-worshipping class, and its servile dough-faces-vile
slaves, that throw themselves into the snaky folds of injustice,
and barter for a mess of pottage, the priceless inheritance of
liberty, of which they are unworthy. The influence of the
vicious is preponderating in our system, and portending evils;
for Justice has never failed to strike down the pirate flag
with the force of combined nations, if it did not fall of its own
inherent tendency to dissolution, before overtaken by the
avenger.
The death of Julius Cesar could not remove the causes, of
which his dictatorship was' only the effect: these causes were
deep-rooted in the condition of the Roman people; and continuing to operate, other Cassars succeeded to his power. The
tide of millions, tending towards arbitrary Government, could
not be rolled backwards by poniarding a bubble on its surface.
What had been the life of the Republic, its virtue, was gone;
consequently, the safety of person and property was sought
in the strength of the executive arm. Could the death of Caesar have "restored the ancient virtues; thereby fitting the
people once more for republican Government, then something
had been gained by his death, favorable to liberty, instead of




SELECTIONS.                  143
merely displacing one Dictator to make room for another: an
arbitrary head being necessary to a vicious political body.
THE   INSUFFICIENCY      OF PHRENOLOGY        TO DETERMINE THE COMPARATIVE MENTAL POWER
OF TWO OR MORE INDIVIDUALS.
PHRENOLOGY furnishes rules, by which to determine the
mental powers of animals: It teaches that the brain is the
group of organs, whose action is attended with thoughts or
feelings, of a moral, intellectual, sentimental, or animal character; that each kind of thought has an organ, of a certain
ascertained locality; that the comparative strength of each organ is determined by its comparative size; which is always
attended by a corresponding development of the skull; and that
the appearance of the head evinces the comparative strength
of any organ; or, whether the animal, moral, intellectual, or
sentimental predominates. To determine the truth of this, we
have only to open our eyes: All animated nature furnishes
confirming testimony on this point: the voice of the lamb is
equal to that of the lion, and the idiot as convincing as the
sane.
Phrenology fails in attempting to do more than determine
the comparative strength of organs in the same head. For
there is no known rule, whereby to judge of the comparative
mental force between individuals.
The temperaments afford some indication of an inclination
to activity or repose; that is, whether the individual is likely
to exert the powers which he possesses. This, however, does
not determine the strength of those powers; the phrenologists
admit, with truth, that a man of a lymphatic temperament
may have a powerful mind, but be too slothful to use it.
The temperaments only show what degree of mental activity
may be expected, and not the slumbering secret power, which,
as yet, can only be manifested by acts. Men who have distinguished themselves by great deeds, have had good tempera



144                  SELECTIONS.
ments.  This only proves that a good temperament must
accompany a good organization, to produce greatness of
intellect: yet an observation of men, in regard to this point,
proves that an apparently good temperament and organization
is not always attended with intellectual superiority. Many
good heads, with apparently good temperaments, are floating
in the slack water of society, like splendid steamboats, with
out a boiler. I have long observed this, and also, that the
evidences of superiority of head and temperament, in men of
giant minds, are not as marked as the superiority of their intellects. I felt that there must be some deficiency in phrenology, in not accounting for this. The writers on Phrenology
have felt similar misgivings: Stretching and contracting heads,
to suit their theory: but the calipers have failed to afford
demonstration. Mesmerism, at length, seems to elucidate the
mystery: though it furnishes no rule whereby to measure the
power of mind.
Mental action seems to result from an effect produced upon
the brain by an electric fluid, called neuaura; and each variety
of feeling and thought to come from a different kind of neuaura. This appears from the fact, that when a person is in the
mesmeric sleep, he is senseless; because the neuaura has been
withdrawn from the brain, by the manipulations of the operator, passing from the head to the extremities; and from the
fact, that the person who is in communication with the magnetized individual, is capable of transmitting any feeling he is
possessed of at the time of communication, while a person who
has not such communication, cannot produce a similar effect
on the magnetized person. Thus, is manifested both the existence and the effect, or office of the fluid, and also, that it is of
various kinds or qualities; for how can communication exist,
mental action be suspended, or excited, and moreover, particular kinds of mental action be produced, without some such
agent serving as a medium of communication, or as a cause to
excite action.
As there is no mental action, if the neuaura be withdrawn
from the brain, which resumes its wonted action, when, by
transverse passes the neuaura is restored, can we not infer,




SELECTIONS.                  145
with reason, that the neuaura is the immediate cause of mental
action?  Phreno magnetism further proves, that the violence,
or strength -of mental action, is increased, by increasing the
amount of neuaura. Experiments in phreno magnetism prove,
that mental strength and vivacity are displayed, and great
force and energy of animal feeling evinced by even the stupid
while under the influence of the neuaura which emanates from
the nerves of the operator. When we behold these facts, we
are led to the conclusion, that intellectual force and greatness,
chiefly depend on a superior capacity in the body to generate
neuaura; it being the power that puts the organization of the
brain into action; whose abundance confers strength and activity of motion, producing a corresponding force and vivacity of
thought and feeling; a power whose diminution is marked by a
proportionate inaction and dullness.
Where, then, is this neuaura generated? Not in the brain 
that is but a point of expenditure. The Physiologists consider
that the digestive organs are the great laboratory, where the
crude materials of food are elaborated into those conditions suitable for the various purposes of life. Here is the root of the
mental tree; and without good organization in this region,
however perfect may be the phrenological developments of
the man, we must expect to find in him a fruitless mind. He
may look like Jupiter Tonans around the brows, but be weak
within: probably the feeling of incapacity, of which men of
acknowledged genius sometimes complain, may arise from a
temporary derangement in this laboratory. Even an ordinary
cerebral organization, well supplied with neuaura,(not blood, as
Mr. Combe says,) will display a force far superior to what the
phrenological developments seem to indicate, yet, far inferior
to what it would be, if the cerebral organization were more
perfect.
It is this hidden power, that is wanting in those individuals,
that we often see possessing fine phrenological developments,
and an apparently good temperament, yet, bearing no fruits.
How different from the geniuses, who seem to rise superior to
the accidents of time, place, and circumstances, borne aloft by
an innate energy, which no labors can tire; a native force of
10




146                   SELECTIONSo
intellect, that bursts the chains of form and precedent, bearing
down all opposition, and leaping beyond their age, leaving
their fellow mortals to labor on through centuries in their
track, in a successless effort to overtake them.
The shape and development of the most perfect head, and of
the various cerebral organs, are ascertained by phrenologists,
to a degree of accuracy, sufficient for practical purposes; so
that it is now possible to determine the sort of mind a man
possesses; that is, whether the animal, intellectual, moral, or
sentimental predominates; but beyond forming a judgment of
the comparitive powers of the organs of the same head we
cannot go; the force of the mind being measured by the
capacity of the body to supply the neuauric power, to measure
which, we have, as yet, no certain rule; as the temperaments
and apparent robustness, or health of body, furnish no certain
criterion; for history informs us that Demosthenes, Cicero,
Caesar, Pope, Ames, and others, were of sickly habit, and had
weak bodies: Still, their powers of endurance are proved by
their works.
I am inclined to believe, that the power of generating neuaura depends more on a perfection of the organs that elaborate
it, than on their apparent strength. I am more fllly per
suaded of this, when that temperament, called lymphatic, is
seen so seldom  attended with mental vigor; so much substance being warehoused in the system, that it is not manufactured into neuaura. The digestive or lymphatic temperament may result from a deficiency in the refining powers of
the digestive organs, as often as from their capacity to supply
a superabundance. Milton was thin in his youth, assuming
corpulence in his old age; Napoleon said, that until he was
twenty five, he was "as thin as a slip of parchment"; but in
the latter years of his life his temperament seemed to change
towards the lymphatic.




THE NEED      OF OBSERVING       CORRECT     GENERAL
PRINCIPLES.
IT was remarked by Julius Caesar in his speech concerning
Lentulus, and Cethegus, that time might show the ill tendency
of measures, which seemed to be of great present advantage to
the state; that certain principles were dangerous, and many evils
had sprung from acts, which, at the time of performance, were
generally approved; but, being founded on wrong principles,
were pernicious in their consequences, as precedents, when the
administration fell into bad hands.
In illustration of this, he instanced among other things, the
conduct of the thirty tyrants of Athens; who began their power, by putting to death, without trial, such as Were remarkably
wicked, and universally hated; for which, they were greatly
applauded by the citizens; who, having thus sown the seed for
usurpation, reaped the harvest of their folly, in suffering a
bloody proscription of both good and bad.  He argued from
this, that the execution of Lentulus, and Cethegus, though just,
would set a precedent dangerous to the liberty of the people.
The necessity of correct principles of action in all the affairs
of life is so great, that much peril is incurred in venturing to
act without theii guidance, especially in what affects the state.
This necessity is indicated in the works of the Creator of the
universe. The laws, which govern the existence of organic
bodies, are general. The conditions of these bodies change;.
-but the laws of their animation are unchangeable; and as the
organism observes, or violates these laws, it lives or perishes,
flourishes, or decays; and the same principle, which produces
motion in the minutest object of animal existence, gives action
and vitality to the whole chain of created. beings; and extending its influence to the mightiest objects, propels globes and systems in their prescribed course through the abyss of space.
The law which attracts all substances to a common centre,




148                   SELECTIONS,
operates in every system.  Legislators would do well not to
neglect this example of the Lord of Nature, in his Government of
the Universe. Philosophy has not discovered one instance, in
which even infinite wisdom has used a discretionary power in
that Government; or deviated from, suspended, or violated his
laws of action, even when benevolence and outraged justice
have seemed to require it. Let not man, then, with his proneness
to err, and consequent need of a guide, reject the example of
the Creator; but, as far as he is able, apply to that comparatively minute and insignificant mass, a nation, those correct
general principles of action, that are well, because they end
well. When infinity teaches, by the great tutor, reason, when
experience proclaims the necessity of such principles, how
eagerly should they be adopted, and how carefully guarded
from violation! Every individual, in whatever ephere he
moves, would find in them a light and guide. If his memory
fails, he infers from his principle of action, what must, under
the circumstances, have probably occurred. Thus, too, his
judgment is aided, and general consistency maintained. Even
those who wield arbitrary power must find it greatly to their
convenience, and advantage to never deviate from a just principle of action: such a course inspires the public with confidence in the Government, that adds to its strength and permanence, and relieves it, in some degree, from the imputation of
tyranny. The domestic parental Government is seen to be
respected in proportion to the justice and certainty of its actionthreats unexecuted; rigour at one time, and slackness at
another; severity or leniency, as impulse inclines, uniformly
brings it into contempt, and consequent inefficiency.
TO COMPREHEND A SCIENCE ITS PRINCIPLE MUST
BE UNDERSTOOD.
ONETS progress in any science will be in proportion as its
animating principle is understood:-If this principle is not ascertained, it will not be comprehended as a whole, but only




SELECTIONS.                  149
in disconnected parts —mere details will be learned, by toil of
memory, without discerning their source, and dependence on
a common parent: The limbs and leaves of the tree will be
seen, without noticing the trunk and root from which they
spring, and without knowing whether they emanate from one
or many trunks. Each detail, without a knowledge of its
principle, is, in some degree, a mystery, being seen in a state of
isolation and without the link of dependence on its principle.
Before any department of knowledge can be viewed as a science its general principle must be known, and being known
its details are seen almost intuitively; it is known what they
must necessarily be.
I do not know that the general principle of history is ascertained, agreed upon, or conceded. It appears to me to be
the narrative of acts of man individually and collectively,
governed by self interest, and that its events are evolutions
of selfishness under the various circumstances detailed. The
steady action of this principle embraced in the word selfishness, might determine the duration of governments. The
force of its action as modified by vice, or virtue, knowledge)
or ignorance, affecting the length of their respective existence. When, for instance, republics are founded, the founders
generally consult public interest only. They have the same
desire to guard as to establish the government. Their interest in founding is equally consulted in guarding, and they
provide checks against abuses, such as requiring a property
qualification in voters, that those, who, by voting, impose
burdens, may share a part of the burden imposed, not meaning to create a privileged class, either rich, or poor; requiring judges to be elected by a legislature to exempt them from
the effect of popular passions and prejudices, &c. After'
wards, those who seek power in the state, consult their individual interest, and seek popularity with the masses, by
promising to remove those checks.
They next destroy the principle of equality: remove the
public burdens from the shoulders of the majority on to those
of the minority. These bear the injustice as long as it is tolerable, then they consult their interest by calling in a Dicta



150                    SELECTIONS.
tor, who yokes the licentious masses, and restores law and order. Afterwards, he, or his descendant, is required at a Runneymead, or elsewhere, to relax a part of his hold on arbitrary power, according as the same intelligence that created his,
or his ancestor's power, deems it consonant with the public
interest. Thus, the action of selfishness has urged all republics into monarchy, and, afterwards, modified this form  of
government.
To so act, as not to offend, but to please, is the animating
general principle of politeness. The details might fill a hundred volumes, embracing dress, fashion, motion, sentiment,
manners, grace, awkwardness, &c.; but one sees intuitively
from the root and trunk, or principle, what the limbs or details must be.
And so of other matters. One is incompetent to teach, if he
cannot explain the principle of the science in which he would
instruct. He can only show how to memorise, not how to
comprehend. He can only treat of effects not causes-load
the memory, not enlighten the understandingo
ON   FLYING.
MAN might construct wings to fly, if he could increase his
muscular power, or supply its place by machinery, so as to
obtain power in proportion to his weight, equal to the power
of a bird. The sinews of a bird are not stronger than those
of a man; but they have more power, on account of their
structure, and attachment to the arm further from the elbow
joint. The muscle being attached to the hand, or near the end
of the limb, gives the contractile power of the muscle great
influence over the limb. The bird at the point, I will call the
hand, has the same power as a man at the elbow. At the
shoulder, man is as strong as a bird; but the lever and fulcrum
disposition of muscles is such, that his power diminishes as
the hand is approached. It may be possible to obviate this




SELECTIONS.                  151
weakness by machinery, perhaps an artificial sinew. The
slowness of motion might be compensated by length and
breadth of wing and tail, whose proportion to the weight
could be accurately determined by arithmetical calculation, of
which the elements would be, the weight, size of wing and tail
of birds, and motion of their wings. A partridge has a wing
much smaller, in proportion to his body, than an eagle, and
makes a much quicker motion, and is not able to support his
weight as long. By determining the proportions and motions
of these, some data could be got for ascertaining how many
motions would be required, of wings of different lengths, to
support a man, of a certain weight a minute.
The body might be covered with regular rows of quills, or
umbrella work, so adjusted as to spread out at an angle of
forty-five degrees; and thus, form a parachute, at the moment
a retrograde movement should commenceo
Were the body sustained by a balloon, direction might be
given to the balloon by a long light shaft, forming the centre
of several umbrellas, which the aeronaut, grasping at its centre,
could thrust forward and pull back, or he could row with oars
formed, on the same principle, to open as he pulled, and shut
when thrown ahead. This might be done with steam, without
the exertion of any very extraordinary mechanical ingenuity.
Tempests could only waft, not rend the' erial navigator, save
when in counter currents of air, which seldom occur.
ON   PUNISHMENTS.
THE object of punishment is to prevent crime. How is this
object best attained? To be just, it must be apportioned to
the offence. If it is unnecessarily severe, it does wrong to the
criminal; if insufficient, it is unjust to society; for to refuse
to prevent an  injury, is almost as wrong as to commit
one. It is assisting the criminal; because it shields him from




152                   SELECTIONS.
the consequences of crime; and to all who are disposed to
commit crime, the consequences are the main preventives; for
no one, whose acts are controlled by reason and conscience,
commits crime. It is only those who are under the control of
base passions, who perpetrate crime: reason is yoked to their
car, acting the part of a slave to the controlling passion; the
law, therefore, acts wisely to appeal to the master, the passion,
and not to the slave, or the reason of the criminal, and in so
doing afflict the organ that urges to the crime: for stealing
ten, impose a fine of twenty dollars; the acquisitiveness that
impelled the thief, would then restrain, and the strength of
the passion be made a barrier against theft. If punishments
of retaliation be proper, by what criterion shall we determine
their amount? The natural? What is the natural?   Open
your eyes and see. The Almighty has made a world, governed
by laws termed natural. These laws framed in harmony with
each other, preserve order throughout nature. To prevent
their violation a penalty necessarily follows their infringement,
proportioned to the offence; the extent of the violation being
the standard governing the penalty; and so perfectly is the
offence balanced by the punishment, that the one announces the
extent of the other: hence, extensive violations are less frequent than minor ones; which would not be the case, if there
was no discrimination of punishment. If, therefore, we take
the natural criterion, we will apportion the punishment, for
crimes, to the extent of the violation of the law. If the law is
a right one, the greatest violation it can suffer, is the greatest
violation of human rights; the object of law being the support
of those rights. The greatest right, is that of life; for without
it we can enjoy no other: It is therefore, the dearest: It is
the strongest; because all the passions, moral, and intellectual,
feeling delight in their own gratification, join in the pursuit of
that gratification: all being thus interested in the continuance
of life, rise in the strength of unanimity to repel any aggression
on their common interest. Hence, the fondness for life, or
the strength of the passion called love of life. Though passion
wars with passion, for the ascendency, yet the same selfishness
which separates, unites them when they have a common cause




SELECTIONS.                  153
To protect man's greatest right all his passions should be addressed by the nature of the punishment inflicted for its violation.
The extreme offence and irreparable injury of murder admits
only the exaction of life, for life, and the charging of the offender's estate with the bringing up of the victim's children, or family, dependant on him for support.
THE BRAIN AN UNIT.
THE brain is but one organ, and performs but one function:
that-is, feeling. Thought, sentiment, memory, are but different
modes of that feeling. There is no perceptible division in
the brain, save the cerrebellum. The best microscopic instruments have not shown any division. From the writings of
Combe, and others, it appears, that when any organ is excited
the whole brain is in motion, pulsating violently against a particular part of the skull.
This pulsation causing, in process of time, a perceptible
bump, the phrenologists consider strong evidence of the existence of a corresponding organ underneath, and by comparing heads, carefully, have ascertained, that these protuberances are always accompanied by certain mental qualities, and
as these qualities, dispositions, or powers, are different, therefore they conclude there must be different organs; because,
say they, all the other portions of the body perform some
function peculiarly their own, as the heart, liver, lungs &c.
I consider the Phrenologists right in concluding that the
bumps are caused by pulsations of the brain against the skull,
and that those bumps are evidence of a proportionate strength
or weakness of certain mental qualities; but wrong in supposing the existence of different mental organs-mistaking
mode for substance.
1st. There is no perceptible division of organs.
2nd. The apparent force of the movement of the brain in
particular states of feeling is such, that if restricted to a par



154                   SELECTIONS.
ticular organ, or group of organs, they would have necessarily
to be confined by a strong partition of some sort: An organ
has greater strength in proportion to its distance from the
Medula Oblongata, than from its proportional thickness; a
rule whose reverse is applicable to all other parts of the system: Showing, that in those directions and distances where
the whole brain may have the most complete action the feeling
is the strongest.
ON CLIQUES.
A CLIQUE is a combination of a few to control the many,
for good or for evil. Cliques abound in American society,
probably on account of the prevalence of acquisitiveness.
The leaders of a Clique, for their own interest, use its members to rule the multitude. These leaders appropriate the
present spoils, and feed their subordinates with hopes: if the
latter are never blest with an office, they are always expecting
to get one: Meantime, with apparent disinterestedness, they
elevate their associates in the opinion of the world, by separately, and seemingly without concert of action, speaking in
their praise on all occasions; in this manner gaining an influence over the unsuspecting masses, by concealed arts, like
those who originally instituted governments over mankind.
The subordinates allude to each other with much respect, and
to their leaders with a holy reverence, as unequalled in talents and purity; thus teaching the public to regard them
with awe and wonder. So, the law-givers brought the mysteries of religion to support their views, causing the popular
belief that their institutions were sanctioned by the gods.
After a simple citizen has heard the same thing approved or
condemned, six different times by six different members of a
Clique, apparently without intended unity of action, he concludes that the voice of the public, with great unanimity, has




SELECTIONS.                   155
approved or condemned that thing, and considers it is useless
for him to do otherwise than go with the current of opinion.
In public meetings of the people a Clique, unless counteracted
by another Clique, generally, if not uniformly, gets its own
resolutions passed as the resolutions of the meeting, and as the
expression of public opinion. The resolutions are perhaps first
drawn up in secret conclave of the Clique, and handed to a
person, not of the Clique, to offer to the meeting, the members
not even seconding them without need, and apparently taking
no more interest in their passage than the most indifferent
spectator.
Private, rather than public interest, being the object of
Cliques in our republic, they must be generally injurious to the
people. All associations whose consultations are in secret,
though not necessarily concealing their doings for shame, yet
may be suspected of objects of which they are not proud; because man is prone to divulge what he deems laudable, and
to hide only what he deems shameful. Still, there may be a
necessity for Cliques in the nature of things-to counteract
evil combinations, bring governments into efficient action, and
hold them to certain principles. They have existed in all
nations. There is scarce a ruler, be he king, emperor, or president, but acts more or less through, and is acted upon, and is
ruled in some degree by Cliques. In Russia the emperor ha.
been displaced by such an influence, and in most countries the
successive ministries are the creations of Cliques.
We find an amusing exposition of the action of a Clique, of
which Agamemnon is the head, and Ulysses is the chief operator. in the trial of the army in the second book of the. Iliad.
The king tells the Clique he will propose to the troops to go
back to Greece; but the Clique must pievent their embarkation. He then publicly informs the troops, that though once
great in arms, they have become the common scorn, and
shameful flight, alone, can now enable ten Greeks to escape
trom one Trojan: Still, the troops desire to embark; but
are prevented by the efforts of Ulysses and his coadjutors.
Cliques create fashions; give form to public opinion; give
popular discontent an inoffensive direction; create a rage for




156                   SELECTIONS.
a steeple hat, or south sea speculation, or the study of dead
languages; in short, their efficacy, in managing poor human
nature, and moulding the action of masses for the advantage
of one, or a few, or many, is unquestionable. To rail against
Cliques seems useless. A Clique of thieves could effect the
passage of laws for robbing one man for the benefit of another, on the finest pretences; such as, advancing religion, learning, or improving the channels of commerce; and the only
efficient counteraction of such a combination, would be found
in the union of men of honest purposes; for Cliques are most
successfully combatted by Cliques.
OBSERVATIONS.
LOITERING in a town I got into conversation with some of the
people: A merchant informed me his neighbor's goods were
low, because they were inferior in quality; but that his were
lower in proportion to their real value than those of his neighbor; while the latter claimed that his goods were equal in
quality to the higher priced articles of his rival.  I heard a
man addressing, in an emphatic tone, a small group, on avarice;
denouncing parsimony, and assuming to be among the liberal.
On enquiry, I found that his generosity was more conspicuous
and wordy, than expensive; that he never gave in the night;
but at noonday. Another, who sat beside him, was equally
loud; yet I was informed, that he never gave, except from experiment, already tried by others, he was certain of profiting by
the gift, or rather the investment; resembling, in this, some
politicians, who affect generosity, when they are advancing but
a low price for the loaves and fishes of office. Thus effecting
a double object; making a good bargain for place, and setting
an example of liberality to the disinterested and unsuspecting
observer. A benevolent looking gentleman, that was said to
excel in acts of charity, who listened indifferently to these




SELECTIONS.                  157
worthies, remarked, that without economy and industry one
might be generous, but he would soon have nothing to bestow,
and then, his generosity would be useless to society; that, as
for himself, he owed to industry and economy his capacity to
aid his fellowmen; and the aid he had given was so small it
was not worth mentioning, except as a reproach, because of its
insignificance; that, probably, what entitled him to most
credit, was, his having maintained himself and family, by his
own exertions, so as not to be a burden to his fellow men, whom
he was so little able to assist: that he should consider himself
amply repaid for raising his children, when he found they could
support themselves, relieving both him and the township from
apprehensions on that score, which he believed they would
effect; for he had succeeded in instilling into them a contempt
for the superfluous and the vain, and a respect for the needful
and the useful. My sons, said he, are their own barbers; they
have no taste for artificial stimulants in segars, or otherwise:
hence, I'may hope they will not become drunkards, or gluttons.
I have been careful to keep them employed at something; for
idleness tempts to mischief; and taught them, that the observance of law and order was indispensable, and all departure
therefrom, without justification or excuse: hence, I have not
been disgraced by their acting with a mob of any description.
My girls regard the useful, more than the ornamental; they do
their own washing, and dressmaking, and are industrious and
frugal: hence, I may reasonably hope they will attract the
attention of sensible men; and such men, if poor, will become
rich, and if already rich, not only are likely to remain so, but
to make a rational use of their wealth. As he thus spoke,
searching glances were cast by certain by-standers at others,
and all seemed to pardon the egotism of the speaker, from a
conviction of his sincerity.
In another group, a couple of ladies, in pursuit of contributions for some good object, solicited the aid of a respectable
citizen, in the presence of several persons. He objected to give
them anything, because there was scriptural admonition against
doing it in public.
I noticed some dandies exhibiting phrenological certificates




158                   BELECTIONS.
of their respective mental capacities, ascertained by the extent,
and shape of the box, that held their brains. One showed a
diploma from a college, with an air of triumph and satisfaction,
without evincing much other evidence of erudition: another
seemed to expect to silence opposition by stating the great
length of time he had studied a subject: another railed at
economy, while he indulged all his appetites, and contracted
debts he never expected to endeavor to pay: thus stealing
under another name; the crime consisting in depriving others
of their property, without compensation  in the one case, the
thief takes advantage of the owner's absence, in the other, of
his confidence.
I concluded that self-interest was the principle of action in
most men, and took many forms, as modified by vice or virtue,
wisdom or folly, acuteness or dullness, and that enlightened,
and sagacious selfishness, greatly aided the cause of charity and
all good works.
SHOULD    A ROMAN CATHOLIC         BE ELIGIBLE TO
OFFICE IN THE UNITED STATES.
LYCEUM OCT. 1838.
To exclude the Catholics from office in the United States
we should not do unto them, as we would wish them to do
unto us: thus, both a precept of religion and virtue, the principle of republican government, would be violated. Even
monarchical England, whose principle of government according to Montesquieu is honor, has found it expedient to admit
Catholics to office. How much more expedient to admit
them here, where virtue must be the ruling principle, and
perfect equality maintained among all the citizens. If the
majority refuse equality of privileges to the minority, they
thereby subvert republican government, and erect a despotism,
the more odious, for the number of its tyrants; who, in turn,




SELECTIONS.                  159
may be enslaved on their own principle, by such as have the
power to do it. They recall the days of barbarism, when the
strong enslaved the weak. They do, in light and knowledge,
what barbarians did in darkness and ignorance; not stimulated
to virtue by the Christian religion; nor guided by the lights of
history; nor checked by the immediate presence and observation of an enlightened world. The Protestants, by thus acting,
would show, that they rather profess Fthan practice the Christian religion. Nor can' they excuse themselves, by pointing to
the tyranny of which the Catholic religion has been the instrument, in Spain; in which that form of religion has been more
offended, than offending; for, on account of its very goodness,
it was assumed as a cloak, by bad men; who, under it, perpetrated crimes, and tyrannized over the people. It being the
religion of the whole people, it was the strongest lever which.ambition could wield to effect its purposes, good or bad.
Religion always has been, and ever will be, converted from
its use into an abuse, because of its strong hold on the people.
No matter what religion, or what mode of worship in the
same religion has the majority, that religion, or that mode,
will be used by the ambitious to effect. their designs. Alexander the Great received from  the Priestess of the temple of
Apollo, at Delphos, the response, that he was invincible; of
course, his soldiers could never see any need to retreat, while
animated wit    h suh assurance.
The hatred of the vicious to Socrates, found means to destroy him, in accusing him of disbelief in the Gods. Thus
religion in proportion to its power, is in danger of abuse:
suppose the inhabitants of these United States were as unenlightened as the mass of the people in Europe, and as bigotted
as the people of that country were formerly: suppose, too, a
Cataline were a candidate for the presidency; every person
knowing his bad character; and suppose, that the Presbyterian mode of worship were the most popular; would he not
join the church which had the greatest popularity? And suppose a Washington, but a Catholic, were a candidate: imagine the success of the Cataline! And what would be the
argument in his favor?  Would it be, that he is a moral




160                   SELECTIONS.
man, that he possesses greater virtues than the Washington?
No; but that he is a Presbyterian; This name"would awaken
passions that would overpower all others.
The proposition to exclude Catholics from equality of privileges, or to tyrannize over them, is a proposition for Protestants to do the very thing, which they condemn in Catholics 
to pervert Protestantism to the same purposes to which Catholicism is perverted in Spain. It is a proposition for one class
to exercise tyrannical power over another class, and not the
only class; other classes would also be victimized: power is seldom satisfied with one encroachment. The ambitious would assume the Protestant cloak for the same reason, that, in Spain,
the Catholic one is assumed. There would be but few Catholics
in a short time, if Catholics had no privileges. The Protestant
would be the prevailing religion in this country, as the Catholic is, in Spain, and would be used for like purposes. Not
that the Protestant religion sanctions such proceedings; nor
does the Catholic: It is the goodness of both that gives
them influence. It is not religion; but wolves clothed in the
garments of righteousness, that d th  the mischief.
It follows that diversity of modes of worship constitute a
nation's safety against any one mode being made an effective
instrument of tyranny; and that every sect is deeply interested against permitting any sect to assume power over another.
The common safety of all requires, that all shall have equal
privileges, and that the rights of no one shall be infringed.




INVOCATION      OF   THE   SPARTANS      AT
THERMOPYLAE.
THE Greeks for fatal war prepare;
Stout hearts and arms, firm souls are there;
Leonidas, of god-like strain,
Proud, rules the death-devoted train.
Each knee is bent to Jove, on high;
Each handjis rais'd, upturned each eye:
Oh! let us, Heaven, as Spartans, die:
Accept the sacrifice we give,
And let, oh let, our country live!
Thermopylae, that drinks our gore,
Shall boast, our mothers heroes bore:
Our parents have no cause to grieve:
We, with our lives, a wreath will weave;
That through all future time shall wave
In fadeless verdure o'er our grave;
Our noble deeds, in deathless light,
As time advances, grow more bright,
If thou wilt let us grace the field,
With wounds in front, and hands on shield.
That wreath the human race shall crown,
And ours shall be mankind's renown:
11




162                    POETRY.
What they may greatly dare, or do,'Twill give th' admiring world to view;
While we in deathless glory rest,
On Nature's fadeless, fruitful breast;
Or gliding with the spectral host,
Along the shadowy Stygian coast,
Delighted, hear all nations claim,
As man, to share our mighty fame.
We thus appreciate what we ask;
The boon, to well perform our task.
Now grant, 0, Heaven, the favoring sign I
Tis done: We hear the voice divine:
Our country calls, and on the right!
That thunder stirs the soul to fight.
WHY POETS ARE HONORED.'Tis hard to get bays on the mount of Parnassus:
A poorly-fed nag is the horse call'd Pegassus.
Tis selfishness weaves the poor crown, that is givens
The name of the Poet, when he is in Heaven:
A wonder-work, sure! and the worker, you see,
Was related to Adam, and therefore to me!
I point to the pile, as a trophy of mine;
Because'twas accomplished by one of the line!
MAN IS GOVERNED AS HE DESERVES TO BE,
FAR, in the East, a spacious kingdom lies,
Where bounteous Nature every want supplies;
A dark-haired sultan, there, holds iron sway
And God's crush'd images, with fear, obey.
There cities, gilded bright, conspicuous shine;
Within whose walls imprison'd beauties pine.
There groves, luxuriant, wave before the gale;




POETRY.                     163
O'er silvery waters floats the silken sail;
Through flowery meads, are crystal rivers roll'd,
And orange orchards seem to bend with gold:
Through spicy groves, a tuneful murmur flies
From sweet toned songsters, of unnumbered dyes,
Whose spangled feathers glitter in the air,
And all the colors of the rainbow wear:
From giant trunks, stupendous branches rise,
Form rural domes, high towering in the skies:
Th' extended limbs, at length, down bending low,
Infix in earth, take root, and upward throw
Vast rival trees, with verdant arches fair,
That aid their sires the storms of life to bear.
From these green halls, the tuneful nations greet
The gold-eyed morn, with music, wild and sweet.
But here, despotic power dominion holds:
No liberty this lovely clime beholds:
Degenerate man obeys his passions fell;
Blots reason's sun, and makes his home a hell:
For him how vain the brilliant landscape glows!
And Nature's breast spontaneous harvests throws!
An inward darkness dims his mental eye;
Vice clouds his life with scenes of misery.
It is by Heaven's immutable decree,
Man ever is, as he deserves to be,
Enslav'd, if vicious, and if virtuous, free.
If some the rights of others would invade,
The menaced portion seeks the bayonet's aid;
O'erwhelming force usurps the place of laws,
And tight the rein o'er vicious masses draws.
The lesser evil of monarchial sway
Is sought, the Anarch's pirate-course to stay:
His acts, unjust, create the need, that brings
Severe constraint, and builds the thrones of kings,
Whose sway is tempered, as the people feel
Disposed to justice, or to rob and steal.




164                     POETRY.
JUDGES.
WHAT most deserves unmingled scorn;
The vilest things of woman born;
The meanest tools of spirits fell;
The foulest instruments of hell;
The shame of man, the curs'd of Heaven,
Who ne'er can hope to be forgiven,
Are Judges, partial and unjust,
Who nothing do, but what they must;
Lest error's court, approaching near,
Should put their faults in light too clears
Who purity, with prudery, keep;
So sure its guard must never sleep;
So conscious of its tender kind,'Tis nurtured, till'tis hard to find.
How sad, to see, a felon's brow,
One mov'd by instincts mean and low,
On past decisions cast his eye,
As daring not to pass them by;
And like estray, enclos'd in pound,
At length, yield, forc'd on legal ground..
Where angel purity should tread,
To see of vice the hateful head:
A rabble judging Socrates!
A Sydney judg'd by vile Jeffries!
Can hell give more disgusting sight 
On filthier scene can fall the light?
Ah, trust not those of base desires:
Let lofty aims, let science' fires,
With signal fondness to be just,
Rule such, as men with judgment trust.




POETRY.                    16
THE    SKY-EXCURSION,
IN a moon-like boat, how, in thought, full of glee,
I loftily sail Heaven's star-spangled sea.
The oar, that I use, is a silvery ray
I caught, as it dropped from the king of the day.
I spread the bright canvas of light, for a sail,
And onward I move, in immensity9s vale;
Regardless of all the vain labors of earth;
The triumphs of wrong, and the sorrows of worth.
The wicked have ceased from all troubleing here.
In peace and in splendor, o'er clouds I career:
And now, through a comet's bright trail, as I pass,
I find it is truly of spectres a mass:
The dim, twinkling stars, through their forms may be seen;
By signs, they make known, that like me they have been;
They beckon me, quickly, to join their long train,
And cast off mortality's burden of pain.
Their forms of sweet beauty round gracefully glide;
Briseis and Sappho I find at my side;
Great heroes, and artists, and poets, of yore,
Whose works and whose names are now heard of no more:
On asking for Homer, they point far away,
As if, " He dwells higher than we," they would say.
The play of affinities moral, no doubt,
Make similar natures each other find out.
Though none but the well-meaning spirits are here,
The loftier shine in a loftier sphere.
What music! transcendantly sweet; but, alas!
Can it come from these spirits, translucent as glass?'Tis a tone, beyond mortal conception or power,
From angel harps falling, in love-lighted bower.
It never will sound in the valley of tears:
That strain is intended for heavenly ears.




166                     POETRY.
Ulysses and Nestor glide into my boat,
As through the dim, shadowy spectres I float:
I see their names glimmer in light on each brow,
As graceful they stand on my sky-roving prow.
Bright drops from fair Poesy's life-giving pen!'Tis long since they wandered with flesh-covered men
I spoke to them quick of their earth-filling fame,
But gleams of contempt on their vizages came;
Their eyes, turning upward, to me seemed to say,
The point of perfection is still far away;
And scarce to be reached in eternity's day:
How small is our merit, embalmed in the lays
Of loftiest bards of mortality's days!
Our wisdom was hinder'd in managing men:
As folly was lopp'd, it oft sprouted agen.
A labor unthankful how often it prov'd!
How loath is mankind to have error remov'd I
But here, for protecting the thoughtless from wrong,
We reach what to mortals may never belong;
A happiness destin'd forever to last;
The consciousness certain of good actions past;
Whose record, in day everlasting, will shine
Above all commotions, unchanging, divine I
It shows of meek virtue each act that endears,
By angel hands writ, as they wipe off her tears.
Although unrecorded in pages of earth,
No deed is here lost of the doings of worth:
The humble slave's merits, deep in the dark mine,
Beside the great monarch's refulgently shine:
Protectors of Virtue, forever on wing,
Her smallest acts gather, and heavenward bringo
The woes of her children, in sublunar sphere,
Make often to trickle the angelic tear.
Man's trial, while mortal, is only begun;'Tis long ere the crown of perfection is won t




POETRY.                     167
THE SPOUSE.
AH! who can tell, what are the charms,
That draw me to Aldura's arms!
Is it the rose and lily cheek;
The tuneful voice; the eyes that speak;
The form Love's goddess might bestow,
Whose limbs with rival beauty glow;
Th' enchanting graces of her mien;
The looks, befitting Nature's queen:
Or thoughts of pure and upright mind;
Or spirit, gentle, meek, and kind;
Or wish to do her mother's will,
Evincing industry and skill?
In virtue, beauty, usefulness,
Aldura has the power to bless.
Entangled in the triple chain,
Kind Hymen hears my heart complain;
But now, disease's withering blast
My day of life is darkening fast.
Who me would wed, thus graveward prone,
I scarce could for a lover own;
For Nature, strength with beauty blends:
To perfect forms creation tends:
On those who most her law regard,
Perfection waits; a rich reward!
But those who, heedless of it, stray,
Disease and ruin gloom their way:
Death's pruning hand th' offending race
Discards, and casts from Nature's face.
Enough then, if to Virtue wed,
What transient time life's paths I tread.
As low declines my fleeting day,
And into darkness fades away,
My Spouse, in graceful kindness, waits:




168                    POETRY.
Assists me through the shadowy gates,
And up the star-walks of the skies:
Sweet tones from steps of angels rise
Along the sounding pathway bright:
What beauty, splendor, and delight!
By her attended, heavenly born,
How joyful breaks th' immortal morn 
THE   USES    OF  THE    PASTo
THE things that flourished in the past,
Are in th' oblivious tomb:
Existing things are tending fast
Into the eternal gloom.
In swift, unintermittent flight,
Earth's kingdoms pass away:
Like bubbles, nations rise to sight,
And flourish and decay.
Their monuments, not long to last,
But dimly strike the eye,
And, on the present, sadly cast
Their doubtful history.
Their life's short tale alone remains,
Th' experience of gone days;
Instructive lessons it contains,
To light the statesman's ways.
Since useful to themselves no more,
Their lives may serve to give,
To those who run their race-ground o'er,
Instruction how to live:.
Show what to seek and what to shun,
Upon the face of earth;
How vice has lost and virtue won:
And light the road of worth.




POETRY.                    169
What teaches and exalts our kind
Will not be let to die:
In man'twill that protection find
Self-interest may supply;
Save when rude hordes, from polar shades,
O'erwhelm the polished states;
Then mental darkness, too, invades,
And death on science waits;
Which transient swells, like wave of light
Along a sea of gloom,
On Time's bleak stream, and sinks in night,
As savage conquerors doom:
And save when thoughtless ignorance rules,
Unknowing what is good,
Conferring trusts on knaves and fools,
Who know not what they should;
Who see not in the warning past,
Strewn with republics' graves,
That States by wisdom, only, last;
That Virtue, only, saves.
THE    SLAVE-POWER       INVOKED.
IN truth, I must arraign the good;
Because they do not what they should.
How can they thus inactive be,
While vice enacts our destiny!
The nation ruled by knaves or fools,
The tyrant's scorn'd compliant tools,
Already reels beneath a shame,
That grieves the patriot heart to name:'
Though heaven its choicest blessings brings,
Regardless whence our glory springs,
The virtues of the good and great,
In wrong's dark gulf is plunged the State,




170                    POETRY.
To Mars and Mammon bow'd the knee,
On weakness warring cowardly!
The strong, who robs the weak in arms,
His fame, more than his victim, harms.
What fiends! to ope the gates of wo,
That Slavery's poisonous plant may grow I
For this, the bomb-torn city burns;
In blood and tears a nation mourns;
The iron hail on houses falls;
Destroyed, beneath home's injured walls,
The frenzied mother, with her child,
And husband, lie, in ruins pil'd!
Dread Moloch, thron'd on votes of fools;
Since these may long remain thy tools;
Since names of high repute are thine;
Time-servers on the middle line;
To thee, I humbly make my prayer,
The dough-faced progeny to spare.
Permit us of degenerate blood,
T' enjoy as much of worldly good,
As Slavery's interests will allow:
Ah I more than this we ask not now I
Perhaps, howe'er, thou soon may'st see,
Our interests quite with thine agree;
When States, acquir'd by murderous war,
Make you outweigh in Senate far;
Then, grown less jealous of our power,
Thou may'st not seek to starve us more.
0, be to us indulgent, then;
Let snags nor tariffs ruin men:
But let thy kind, paternal sway,
Our past enormous loss repay.
0, that it might to life restore
The thousands, dead, we vain deplore!




POETRY.                    171
DAYS    OF   CHILDHOOD.
How alive is the heart of a poor dying creature
To all the sweet aspects and music of nature!
The life-giving Sun; the green meadows and flowers;
The smiles of dear friends, and the loves of gone hours;
The joys and the sorrows of childhood and age,
That shine, as mild stars, upon memory's page!
E'en woes that are past, without pain we recall;
The joys that surrounded, have softened them all.
How pleasant the time of our childhood appears,
In light, scarcely clouded, of life's vernal years. 
The spots on the sun of its fresh blooming day,
Its tear-starting griefs have all vanished away!
Hope gilded its future with happiest beams:
The state of the blest was enjoyed in its dreams;
As yet uninformed of life's troubles and cares,
And blind to its dangers, temptations, and snares.
A   BACHELOR'S     MUSINGS.
THOUGH roseate dyes
The cheeks o'er spread,
Bright glancing eyes
Their splendors shed,
As health would dwell
In every vein;
Yet, who can tell
The seat of latent pain!
The form may wear
A winning grace;
And seem to bear




172                     POETRY.
Of woe no trace;
Yet, misery lurk
Within the heart,
And secret work
Of death the'fatal part 1
Though angel smiles,
The face adorn,
The heart hath wiles,
As rose its thorn:
The false assumes
The garb of truth;
And age presumes
In paint, to shine as youth.
In vain the eye
Arid Heaven's pure light
Combine to pry
Into the plight
Of forms, that grow
A bustle under,
Perplexing so
It makes the judgment blunder.
FROM guile may gentle manners grow;
Sweet looks hide bitterness below;
Health's blush conceal diseases fell,
Whose presence, soon, the wasted form shall tell.
THOUGH Nature mould with matchless grace,
In wavy lines, the soul-lit face,
Not distant is the barren day,
That sees it wrinkled under tresses grey.




POETRY.                  173
PITY.
MAN-helping power;
In sorrow's hour,
Thy soothing balm,
His soul may calm,
Oppress'd with cureless grief,
That waits winged Time's relief.
A charming lay
Thou seem'st to play,
Whose music sweet
Makes pain retreat,
Or join in tuneful glee,
The witching harmony.
Of virtues mild
The blooming child,
Thou lov'st to be
With Charity,
And, e'en in fancy, feel
The smarting wounds you heal;
Enduring mine,
As woes of thine;
Kind echoing dole
Of troubled soul;
Like that Samaritan
You mov'd to aid the man,
Near by the road'
The selfish trod
In ancient time:
Deed ever prime.
0, Could all statesmen feel,
Like thee, man's wo or weal,
Would they unbar
The gates of war,
And glut with food




174                     POETRY.
Hell's ravenous brood;
Yet dare, with tyrant's plea
Of its necessity,
To justify
To God on high
The bloody deed?
Will he see need
For streams of blood to flow,
That States may larger grow?
See need to break,
Or e'en mistake
His tenth command?
Th' avenging hand
Of Justice soon will show
Their deeds have brought them wo.
Where wert thou, when
Napoleon's men,
To gratify
His lady's eye,
Were ordered into fight?
That she might see the sight!
Some lives were lost;
Some loves were crost;
Hearts, anguish-torn,
Were doomed to mourn.
The Chief, in life's late hour,
Term'd it-the abuse of power!
Nor call'd it crime,
Which chance, nor time,
Nor pomp, nor pride,
From Heaven can hide:
Which Justice must avenge,
Or God's fixed order change.
Be always near
Man's wants to hear;
Incessant wield
O'er him thy shield;
Lest tardy reason's hour
Find him abusing power!




POETRY.                    175
BATTLE.
Now rolling more near,
War's thunders I hear;
Loud music of death;
The dirge of the brave,
Who sink on the heath,
In fame-honored grave:
Their proud spirits ride
On war's fiery surge;
The wild raging tide
They eagerly urge,
Midst shrieks of the wounded, the groans of the dying,
The shouts of the victor, the screams of the flying,
Wild terror before, and confusion around,
The harvest of ruin bestrewing the ground.
THE   MARCH     OF   ANGELS.
AND now the heavenly hosts together throng;
An ocean of bright beauty pours along,
Glittering with gems, unnam'd in human lore:
A blaze of splendor gilds that ocean o'er.
A flood of sweetness from its countenance flows:
Each face, in bloom divine, with love immortal glows.
What graceful motion under nodding plumes
Of beaming amaranth, that forever blooms,
And sun-topp'd standards, casting fiery blaze,
And flags, high-floating, streaming moony rays!
Amidst them strides the reverence-winning forms,
Realm-shouldering souls, defying evil's storms:
Their lofty nature all their looks declare,
And marks of high resolves forever bear.




176                     POETRY.
Advancing o'er the sounding pathway clear,
Unearthly melodies delight the ear:
The sounds of angels' tuneful feet arise;
The frequent step successive tones supplies;
The swelling melody pervades the skies,
And music wide on joyful pinions flies!
DAY-AND      APOSTROPHE       T     TO THE  WINDS.
GAY morning rises fresh and fair,
Bedeck'd with robes of rosy light,
And through the music-breathing air,
Casts cheerful looks of beauty bright.
Upon the dewy glistening clime,
What pearls and rubies pours the day,
As up the vault of heaven sublime,
The burning orb pursues his way!
Bright glancing sunbeams splendors rain
Upon the foam-wreathed glimmering main,
In radiance toss'd by breezes fair:
How sweet their soothing voices are!
Their silvery misty garments fly,
Soft streaming, in the sunny sky:
Though hearing oft their melody,
Their happy forms we never see.
Gay wanderers on the vast of air,
Angelic travellers, sure, ye are,
Careering o'er the changeful scene,
Of seasons pallid, brown, and green.
The flowery fields, in colors gay,
To you their fragrant tribute pay.
The blossoms, waving, as you kiss
Their lovely faces, shine in bliss.
And, while they feel your gentle blows,
The leaves, upturn'd, more tints disclose.




POETRY.                     177
Earth spreads her verdant arms, and hails
Your coming o'er her hills and vales.
0, could one, with your pinions, soar,
To fan sweet beauty evermore;
To lull on evening's dewy breast;
Or pant on clouds that gild the west;
Or ride the brilliant air of noon;
Beneath hot sun, or chilly moon;
Or roll the mists in cloudy forms,
And move in grandeur, with the storms,
The conscious spirit blest and free,
Unshackled by mortality I
THE   LANDING      OF  CA.ESAR   IN   BRITAIN.
ON Britain's coatst, majestic Rome looks cdwn;
But meets of barbarous foes the angry frown.
With grace of Cicero's rival, Csesar pours
The sea-borne armies on the bristling shores.
From the beak'd galleys, grounded on the sand,
The naked Gauls, in'barks, assist to land.
The standard bearer, leaping in the waves,
Breaks danger's spell, its fearful aspect braves,
And bids his legion follow, or betray
The glorious banner, pride of many a day;
While sinewy slingers shovers of missiles throw,
And clouds of arrows leave the twanging bow.
The Britons, gall'd in flank, in front o'erpower'd,
The Roman Eagle, soon, in triumph. tower'd.
12




31k8                   POETRY.
THE   YEAR.
IN Spring's moist growing season born,.
Fair nature's robe gay flowers adorn,
As bright she blooms in fragrant breeze,
Soft kissing dew-drops from the trees,
The swelling buds ope smiling eyes,
Like beauty, wak'd in sweet surprise.
Fruit-bearing Summer's banners stream,'Till brown'd by Autumn's ripening beam; 
While mingled tints, of various dye,
The landscape mellow to the eye:
Then charming prospects spring to view,
Of Nature, dressed in every hue:
While each spry wind, with saucy blows,
Makes foliage secret tints disclose;
And all the hues that Nature bears,
In union twine their lustrous hairs:
A beauteous scenery, thus, is made,
Of every pleasing tint and shade;
But, oh, not long the prospect bland,
For, admiration's eye will stand I
The north wind, shortly, moaning loud,
Will o'er it cast a snowy shroud:
E'en like the glowing rainbow gay,'Twill shine awhile, then, fade away,




POETRY,                    179
DECLINING     DAY.
AND now the red-eyed Sun looked from the West;
A silvery cloud, with border ting'd with gold,
Hugged the tir'd winds against her: downy breast,
And through the mellow heaven, in grandeur, roll'd:
Nature, enamored of the radiant day,
Blush'd deeper hues, and spread her flowery arms:
The gilded seas gleam'd back the shining ray,
And softer light the glowing landscape warms.
MORNING-NO ON-EVENING-AND              NIGHT.
THRICE came refulgent morning, glorious rob'd;
Grey eve, the golden-haired, came thrice, and o'er
The zenith Sol thrice poured his fiery beams;
Night, sable-plum'd, thrice rear'd her starry shield,
Beneath whose ample verge lay dusky Earth,
With all her mountains tall, and oceans huge,
Loud murmuring through the vast and sullen gloom.
INTELLIGENCE      AND   VIRTUE    NECESSARY      TO
LIBERTY.
WHEN vice and error's baleful breath
A nation threat with moral death
Let wisdom, virtue, seize the Press:'Tis theirs the menac'd land to bless;
As sentries on the important tower,
Keep watchful guard, in danger's hour;
Nor labor on less useful arts,
Till truth and virtue, minds and hearts,




180                    POETRY.
Have snatch'd from error's downward way,
And plac'd beneath their blissful sway.'Tis not reading;'Tis not writing;'Tis not bleeding;'Tig not fighting;
That liberty will save:
But Virtue, wise and brave.
Man knowledge needs; (besides its tools;
Which oft o'erload the hands of fools:)
Incline him this to crave:
Such as gives power to save!
How many Greek and Latin words;
How many names of stones and birds;
How many sciences, will fit
Him to avoid the dismal pit,
Down which republics old,
Through vice and ignorance roll'd!
Be then his rights and duties taught;
Let light be on his interests brought;
(Such light as Washington would give,
And others, who for man could live;
Not those who help themselves, alone,
And, for reform, have ruin sown;
Old rules forsaking, with such zeal,
They fain would God's own law repeal:)
That, spite of error's mists, he see
The needful props of liberty.
The day that sees our virtue die,
Prolific teems with woes;
Fell tyranny and hateful crime,
From that disaster flows:
The hydra-headed despot, then,
The excellence-loathing mob,




POETRY.                     181
Will, lawless, hold their brutal sway,
And desecrate and rob;
Till crush'd beneath the giant blow
A sceptred chieftain may bestow.
The friends of order, gathering strength,
From those abuses teach, at length,
Are pleas'd to lesser ills endure,
From force responsible and sure,
And sadly rest beneath the shade
By its protecting aegis made.
Would man from deeds unjust, abstain,
He long might liberty retain:
But if he breaks the tenth command,
He feels the tyrant's iron hand.
Mere virtue's unassisted light,
Will guide a people's steps aright.
What more. can knowledge do, than show
What leads to bliss and what to wo?
The virtuous, then, reach learning's end
At once, nor by slow steps ascend
To that blest height: The heart attains
Results, without the toil of brains;
Instinctive, takes the happy road;
Spurns thieves and knaves, and clings to God.
Were learning sought at Virtue's cost,
Less happiness were gained than lost.
PEACE    WITH     MEXICO    PRACTICABLE.
THIS land, to feeble Mexico,
Should kindness, not injustice, show;
When Britain's threats our ears assail,
Peace, still, can o'er the sword prevail:




182                     POETRY.
Mournful, midst Niagara's roar,
Hear our murdered bretheren cry.
Restless, still, they stalk the shore,
Where their injur'd corses lie.
What disdainful, sullen smile,
Lights their ghastly eyes of death,
While the murderers's steps defile
That lov'd land which gave them breath?
While beneath Canadian sky,
Swing their friends, on gallows high;
Or, on far Van Dieman's land,
Groan beneath oppression's hand;
Or, on ocean's distant waves,
Sink into dishonored graves.
Valor, wisely rul'd, is ours,
That, in peace, this evil cures:
Why, then, martial vengeance glow
For less faults of Mexico?
STOOPING     TO   CONQUER      UNDIGNIFIED, BUT
PERHAPS EXCUSABLE.
WHO can but despise
One's meanness of heart,
That never can rise
To act a free part!
Though learning he have
And intellect good,
Enacting the slave
Degrades his manhood.
Mean, pliant, and low,
In courting the rabble,
How far can he bow
To trash miserable!




POETRY.                     8
In stooping for favor,
He plunges his head
In places, whose savor
His feet might well dread.
But since the poor sinner
An office may seek,
And might not be winner
If candid he speak,
Permit him to ramble
Awhile in the mean;
If bless'd in the scramble,
He then may wash clean.
Perhaps he intends,
If favor'd with power,
Magnanimous endss;
Then blame him no more.
Perhaps'tis the king,
Not courtier, in wrong:
Who likes a vile thirg
Will get it ere long.
If sources of power
Lie deep in the mud,
One cannot high tower,
If reach them he would.
THE    EVENING     SAIL.
ON ocean launch'd the bellying sails
Are spread aloft to catch the gales;
While shadows dun
Succeed the light
Of setting sun,
And murky gloom
Of sullen night




184                     POETRY.
The colors gay
Of rosy day
Entomb.
Soon, rising slow, in queenly state,
Shines Luna, in her golden veil:
The courtier stars her coming wait,
Till in her rival glow they pale.
Unclouded, with majestic gaze,
She lavish pours her silvery rays.
The breast of Ocean heaves in light,
And gleamsin glimmering twinklings bright.
Far off, a mist from craggy steep,
On hazy wings, floats o'er the deep.
In fleecy gilded clouds it breaks,
And forms of various objects takes.
In spots, with sunny whiteness fair,
It spreads, till lost in silvery air,
And in the mirror waters seems to play,
With dancing moon and stars, along the rolling way
THE    RETURN.
To native land returned, with joy, I strode
The well known path to Florian's plain abode:
St. Clairsville leaving, I approached a wood,
Which tall, before, in verdant grandeur, stood;
Rough Sugar trees, in darkest green array'd,
With smoother Beeches, cast a grateful shade.
The rough bark'd Walnut rears his stately head;
Gigantic Oaks their lofty arms out spread.
The Pignut, bright of bark, ascending high,
Displays his gold-tinged tresses in the sky:
High o'er the neighboring trees his branches spread,
A frowning Forest King, with storm-defying head!




POETRY.                    185
Earth's fertile surface here, takes every form
Of billows, petrified amidst a storm.
Coal, lime, and living springs enrich the vales:
The blooming Locusts scent the vernal gales.
The bright eyed children, lovely form'd, that play
Among the hills, outbloom the flowers of May.
Next, kiss'd by winds, a fragrant meadow rose:
Its downy verdure undulating flows
In wavy curves; wide spreading as they roll,
In shadowy billowy motion moves the whole;
While here.and there, amidst disparted green,
The modest clover's crimson cheek is seen.
The Peach trees, near, with blushing branches bend,
And grateful fragrance to the.zephyrs lend.
Wide spreading limbs delicious apples hold,
Of various hues, of purple, green, and gold.
The damson, grape, the nectarine and pear,
On their hale arms a precious burden bear:
And seem the cherries, apricots and plumbs,
To say, we late have borne, again our.season comes.
A humble cottage, through the fragrant shade,
Flower-circled, and tree-clouded, I surveyed:
A farmer, there, I saw, and only one;
Who seemed, in rural state, to reign alone:
Contentment on his ruddy features shone,
And simple nature claimed him as her own:
He opes his door, and, with heart-cheering smile,
Bids me come in, and share his home awhile.
Then states, that from unnumbered seeds of pears
He rais'd a luscious kind, his name that bears:
And asks, "If artists please the taste as well
As those who in Pomona's works excel."
And claims, "most seem more blest who taste his pear
Than those who on a pictur'd story stare."




186                     POETRY.
ON   THE    PROSPECT     OF   GOING    TO   ITALY.
SOON, in Italian dust I lay my head;
I go to sleep among the Roman dead:
In the mild radiance of Italia's sky,
Life's drama closes on my longing eye.
Death's misty pall now on my vision lies;
Now, lovely Nature greets again my eyes:
Th' unyielding spirit, still, persists to breathe,
Reluctant, still, the vanquish'd frame to leave.
For life alone I would not seek to live:
It was bestowed, aud I can freely give;
But kindred hearts a strong affection binds;
And dearest ties unite congenial minds.
VIRGIL-BOOK       VI.
HERE Teucer's ancient beauteous race appears,
High minded heroes, born in better years;
Assaracus, and Ilus, bright of mien,
With Dardanus, who founded Troy, are seen;
Their arms and empty chariots o'er the land,
Admired from far, with spears, earth-rooted, stand.
The coursers, from their glittering cars unbound,
Roam, unrestricted, o'er the verdant ground.
The care of these from former habits came;
In life and death their pleasures are the same.
Midst odorous laurel groves, with joyful song,
In chorus, feasting, some the strains prolong
And rove where Eridanus rolls along.
Who, patriotic, for their country bled;
Who, the blest lives of pious prophets led;




POETRY.                    187
Who, worthy of Apollo, sung their lays;
Who, by discovered arts, adorn'd their days;
And thus, by merit, had become renown'd,
With snow-white fillets all their brows were crown'd.
By these encompass'd, as we came in view,
Museus, taller than the rest, I knew:
Thrice happy souls, my guide, the Sybil, spoke,
And to Museus thus the silence broke:
Blest poet, say, where does Anchises dwell?
For him we cross'd the mighty streams of hell!
To whom the hero quickly made reply:
From hill to vale, from grove to grove, we fly:
In no fix'd place we make a steady home;
But, at our pleasure, through Elysium roam.
At times, we wander in the shady grove;
Or on the mountain's airy summit rove.
But, from yon hight, an easy path I'll show
To where Anchises dwells on plains below.
He spoke, the steep ascent he quickly gains;
And, from its brow, points out the shining plains.
Just then, Anchises, on the future cast
His eye, by chance, as one may view the past.
The souls secluded in a valley green,
About to go to upper light, were seen.
With care, he counted his descendants dear;
Their manners, fortunes, fates, and deeds appear.
And when he saw Eneas, coming near,
He joyful stretched his hands, and many a tear
Pour'd down his cheeks; And have you come at last!
He thus exclaims, the arduous journey past,
Effected by your worth, well known to me!
O son,'tis given again your face to see;
To hear and answer well known words again:
This was my hope, nor has the hope been vain.
Say, through what lands, and what wide seas you come;




188                     POETRY.
What dangers gloomed your passage to my home?
How have I fear'd the Lybian realms might harm,
The means unknown, which caus'd the vain alarm!
0 father, your, your own sad ghost, he cries,
Oft met, has forc'd me to these nether skies.
The ships remain upon the Tyrrhene brine.
O sire, let your right hand be grasped by mine;
And 0, withdraw not from my fond embrace:
Thus speaking, while the tears bedew'd his face,
Thrice round his neck, he tried his arms to throw;
Thrice,fron his grasp, the form, like empty wind did go
Meantime, Eneas notes secluded groves,
Through whose still shades the stream Lethean roves,
Unnumber'd tribes, and people, round it fly,
Like bees, mid flowers, beneath fair summer's sky.
Eneas, startled at the sudden view,
Unconscious, asks, what cause such numbers drew?
And what, besides, may this calm river prove?
And what the men, that throng its banks above?
Anchises then: The souls, designed by fate
For bodies new, forget their former state
On drinking Lethe's care-expelling wave,
Which straight of memories past becomes the grave.
These things to you I long have wish'd to show,
And what descendants from my sons shall flow,
That, Italy found, we may the more rejoice.
O sire, can wretches make so dire a choice!
From love of life can lofty souls descend
To sluggish bodies-for what useful end?
Anchises then: In doubt I will not hold
My son; but all things to his view unfold:
And first; an innate spirit feeds the whole;
Of Earth, Moon, Stars and Space th' inspiring soul.




POETRY.                     189
The liquid plains; the shining hosts of heaven;
To all, intelligence has motion given.
Thence, lives of birds, and beasts, and human kind,
And monsters, to the watery world confin'd.
These germs have fiery strength, and heavenly birth;
Nor suffer harm from dying frames of Earth.
Hence, they rejoice and grieve, desire and fear;
Nor, flesh-imprison'd, see the heavenly sphere.
When life's last light departs, some filth remains;
Th' unhappy still possess corporeal stains,
And penalties, for past transgressions pay:
Some, high suspended, are to winds a prey.
Of some, the sins are burn'd or wash'd away.
They suffer while they bear the body's stains;
(Then, left to rove, few hold these joyful plains),
Till long extended time effects a cure,
And frees the soul from everything ikpure.
When these have roll'd the wheel a thousand years,
To drink oblivion's wave each soul appears,
Summon'd by God-absolv'd from every stain,
To seek the convex world, and robe of flesh, again.
MENTAL     INFLUENCE.
GOOD sense, in poetry array'd,
The cause of truth and man may aid.
All things, in dress of verse or prose,
If vital, sweeter charms disclose:
Lov'd Beauty, rob'd in living light,
Affords the soul increas'd delight.
But few, of all the world below,
Give thoughts, in fadeless life to glow;
These animate each future age;




190                    POETRY.
The virtues rouse to noble rage:'Twas Ossian's heart-exciting song
That fir'd the Highland nation long;
To resolution added force,
And nerv'd it, in its perilous course;
Impell'd the wavering to the fight;
Illum'd the way, by glory's light;
Made freedom's spirit loftier burn;
The foreign yoke indignant spurn.
And while to England, strong and proud,
More numerous nations humbly bow'd,
This brav'd assaults, in every form;
For Ossian's spirit rul'd the storm.
When crush'd by arms, th' unconquer'd will
Her sons retain'd, and triumph'd still.
When Britain's king would Wales subdue,
Her mind-exalting bards he slew;
For matter yields to man's control,
As mov'd by more or less of soul.
To Sparta, with Tyrtseus' strains,
Came victory on Messene's plains.
Dominion most inclines to stay
Where dwells the high heroic lay.
Greece, leagued against a barbarous world,
To mighty States defiance hurl'd:
By Homer and Eschuylus fir'd,
Before her frown mankind retir'd.
The casket-copy's lofty charms,
No less than Macedonian arms,
Subjected Persia's ample realm,
And gave to Greece, of Earth, the helm.
Rome, mov'd by energy the same,
The mistress of the world became.
No peerless poet Persia boasts;
She falls before the Grecian hosts.
No muse to keep her soul from rust,
Rich Carthage soon is laid in dust.




POETRY.                     19
Each modern State's Augustan age
Preceded its mechanic stage.
Whate'er exalts, increases mind,
In countless ways, to bless mankind:
Demosthenes, with loud alarms,
Awhile, averted Philip's arms.
Awhile, persuasive Cicero,
Delay'd his country's overthrow.
Of all the forces, man, that move,
The power of soul will strongest prove:
It brings the starry deeps to view,
And gives great countries aspects new.
Not half a century yet is past,
Since Mississippi's affluents vast,
With all the wide interior wild,
Untam'd, in savage grandeur smil'd;
And scarce could be approach'd; so stror
Her seaward rivers pour'd along;
Then Fitch and Fulton steam applied,
To breast the swift descending tide:
The great West bow'd to greater mind,
And Clinton, Fitch, and Fulton bind;
That, by Canals, and these by Steam,
And Morse, by quick, electric beam,
The States in firmer union all,
And these to man, throughout the ball!
What millions, now, explore her floods,
And reap, where frown'd her stately woods I
America may well be proud,
That Heaven such palms her mind allow'd.
O'er all the world, its pregnant power
Affects, with change, each fleeting hour
For good; not unalloy'd; disease
May live to cross art-narrow'd seas;
But mind, though gloom'd by sordid trade,
This evil, will, at length, evade,
For of the forces, man, that move,
The power of soul will strongest prove.




192                     POETRY.
NAPOLEON.-BOOK         IV. PAGE     74.
ADVANCE OF THE GUARD AT WAGRAM-TRANSLATED FROM
THE FRENCH.
WHAT troops are these, of lofty port, declare,
To honor's field, that now their banners bear?
To see their quiet look, and faces bright,
You deem they seek amusement more than fight:
These are the sons of Mars; th' immortal guard:
They go the palm of victory to award.
What silence deep! the tube of deadly harms,
Unmov'd and silent, rests upon their arms.
Towards the fray, with measur'd step, and slow,
A thick wall forming, they compacted go.
Behold them under fire; their looks serene:
Death opes their ranks, which straight to close are seen;
And all the valor of a powerful host,
Each, in his single heart, may proudly boast! 
Mars stops his chariot, and his dusty steeds:
His curious eyes are fixed upon their deeds,
Nor murderous lead, nor cannon, sweeping wide,
Th' intrepid line is able to divide:
Unshaken, it pursues its first intent;
And midst the foe is consternation sent.
Of courage how majestic the repose!
But tis the calm before the tempest blows.
The scene attain'd,where dire Erynnis roars,
And rage, in breasts of either army, pours,
They stop; each points his thunder, with sure aim;
And each, an adversary's fall may claim.
Death, spectral, swelling, horrid, hisses round;
His hideous bones, together clattering, sound,
As,in his heat, his fatal scythe he swings,
That keen and loud through quivering ether rings.




POETRY.                     193
The Germans, o'er them, see his pinions spread,
And on his greedy aspect look with dread.
A smile infernal on his mouth appears,
Redoubling, still, their horror and their fears.
To lightnings, fatal thunder-bolts succeed.
At each explosion wretched thousands bleed.
Broke, by the fearful shock, the Germans yield;
Their shattered masses, scattered, fly the field.
IDLENESS    AND    MISCHIEF.
WHo ever falls to idleness a prey,
Scarce knows to pass the irksome hours away:
As, on the clock, a careless look, he casts,
He deems the day, beyond endurance, lasts.
He sleep invokes, his vacant eyes to close,
And give inglorious life a short repose.
Small ease, to him, the power of slumber brings;
Drear listlessness its influence round him flings:
In restless plight, from side to side, he turns,
Unlike the man who rest, with labor, earns;
Nor this the worst: If aught to ill inclin'd,
With idleness, comes mischief, close behind:
Let all, then, keep their children well employ'd,
Who, by their conduct would not be annoy'd,
Nor see their usefulness in life destroy'd.




194                     POETRYo
C(ELEBS    CONSOLED.
ON looking, late, at Cupid's wares,
I would not deal in lovers affairs.
The market e'er will have supply
Of lasses, charming to the eye.'Tis difficult, to make selection,
Among the very great collection.
If one regard the talking past,
More turns on luck, than choice, at last.
Perhaps, some day, not giv'n to see
A fault in Jill, I'll double be!
Each, doubtless, must his fate fulfil;
But who can love against his will?'Tis said, if will be love-inclined,
The wisest scarce a flaw can find:
The little foibles of the fair,
Then, need not Coelebs' hopes impair.
He yet may be so much inclin'd,
As, with affection to be blind;
Incapable defects to see,
Which shock all sane humanity.
THE NOBLE N    OF  NATURE..
SOL, midst darkling worlds, is he;
Glorious work of Deity!
Ornament of human kind;
Ardent, fearless, wise, refin'd,
Nature's noble; fit to grace,
In the world, the highest place.
Thus, she bids the oak to rise,
With broad arms, amidst the skies.
Towering high, its monarch brow
Looks on forests, far below:




POETRY.                    195
So, he stands, among his race,
In his heaven-appointed place.
Man, can him no loftier make;
Nothing from his greatness take.
Puny mortals ill refine,
Onthe work of hand divine.
If his foes his thoughts engage,
Pity glows; but not his rage.
Hate, or Envy's venomed dart,
Vainly seeks his lofty heart;
Wastes its force, in empty sound,
Or falls blunted to the ground.
Storms thus strike a mountain's brow
Break, and roll, in tears, below.
Mild and firm the giant mass
Rests, while blustering tempests pass.
But his world-embracing soul,
Ocean-like, from pole to pole,
Wings would spread of kindly care,
Human joys and woes to share.
To no sect, or place, confin'd,
Vast his range of heart and mind:
Evil from his presence flies;
Virtue on his strength relies.
Men, in danger's fearful hour,
Trust his heaven-descended power:
If a conflagration breaks;
If a tempest overtakes;
Whatsoe'er th' occasion be,
Him, above the rest, you see;
Be it on the waves, or land,
All, to him, yield chief command.
Such, it is my bliss to know:
Much, how much, to him I owe!




196                     POETRY.
THE    COMMON     SOLDIER.
His kinsmen have heard, that in death he fell low,
By wasting disease, or the arms of the foe.
They heard of his fall; but of fame the loud breath
Swells not through the nation, proclaiming his death.
O'er the unburied corse the fierce fowls of the air
Exultingly scream, as his carcass they tear,
Or scanty heap'd sods scarce conceal him from sight,
Till hungry wolves, growling, exhume him by night.
In national halls, no one thinks of the blow.
That struck down the brave, as he rush'd on the foe.
Of blood-purchas'd triumphs the state has the boon;
Holds fast the advantage, forgetting too soon
The price, not the prize; for this ever in view,
Exulting she sees; nor omits to pursue.
His blood is a unit, that little appears;
When fame, to his leader pays off her arrears.
Though such be his portion, what numbers now roam
From bliss-giving peace, and endearments of home;
Face death amidst pestilence, famine, and war,
And wild winds, and waters, all for the lone star I
The spoils few will share, who the dangers have brav'd
What rapine secures, for an end will be sav'd;
To add to the class; (each possessing, in fee,
A county or state,) call'd the Oligarchy.
All may not command, I, at once will agree:
But if, for low objects, such forces may be,
We n'er should lack soldiers, in high righteous cause,
Protection of country, its freedom and laws.




POETRY.                    197
THE   POET.
HE pours the soul of battles in his lay:
With him, you rush amidst the bloody fray;
Through shatter'd ranks, behold the thundering car,
Infuriate whirl'd, and all the rage of war.
And when he sings of love, the conquering flame,
What spirits move through all the glowing frame!
Uncommon beauties clothe the smiling fair;
Superior graces all her motions wear.
What glowing scenes are by his fancy wrought!
What new creations to the mind are brought 1
Instinct with life, the varied prospect glows:
Fields lovlier bloom, and water brighter flows;
The sun with greater radiance, fills the sky:
More mild effulgence flows from Luna's eye.
Familiar truth in greater strength appears:
Man, wisdom's counsels, with more reverence hears;
In soul-exalting numbers, genius bounds,
And things of earth, transports to heavenly grounds.
OF     REMEDIES   WORSE     THAN    THE   DISEASE.
IN medicine, a science dark,
Some, without compass, launch their bark,
On some Catholicon rely,
That dooms, by chance, to live, or die.
They boldly sail, with life for freight,
Through shoals of drugs, and mercury's strait;
Obstructing more health's current clear,
Than all distempers mortals fear.




198                     POETRY.
Oft if one takes but little cold,
As curatives, great poisons, hold
Him long in trouble; a small matter,
Is made the health and strength to shatter:
And, many a year, the patient groans,
As change of weather pains his bones.'Tis better trifles to endure,
Than swallow poisons for a cure.
But small assistance Nature needs,
To kill disease's sprouting seeds.
In Paris, a physician, dying,
His brethren, on his skill relying,
Spoke of his loss to human kind:
Grieve not, said he, I leave behind
Three excellent physicians, still,
With far more power to heal, than kill:
All, eager, wish'd the names made known:
Not doubting, each, to hear his own:
He straight pronounc'd, to their surprise:
Pure Water-Diet-Exercise.
Of water, quick the system feels
The active force, on all its wheels.
Full many a herb, in fame that blows,
To water, all its glory owes.
Large draughts dilute the morbid mass,
And make secretions swifter pass.
Not interested appetite,
But judgment, gages diet right:
Let reason place upon the plate,
At once, th' amount that should be ate.
A meal's omission may delay
A fever, or reduce its sway.
In exercise, let every part,
Exerted, answer to the heart;
When all have equal strength, and tone,




POETRY.                     199
None bears a morbid weight alone;
Condemn'd, as others on it throw
Secretions foul, to weaker grow:
Disease (repell'd by all the strings,)
The body from its members flings.
For health, exertion nothing makes,
If urg'd until fatigue o'ertakes.
But those who, prudent, labor most,
May health's superior favors boast:
Thecentral organ, least at rest,
Diseases least of all infest.
THE    STORM.
SCOWLING, in the troubled west,
See the gloomy-mantled storm.
Lightnings glimmer on his breast,
Murmuring soars his giant form.
Wide his robe floats o'er the sky;
Like an ocean, dark and vast;
Or a continent thrown on high,
And around his shoulders cast.
Lightnings, prancing bright before,
Fierce he mounts his cloudy car;
Swift'tis whirled, with stormy roar:
Earth's foundations feel the jar.
On Heaven's thunder-shaken field,
Giant horror, frowning dread,
Titan force he seems to wield,
Gainst Earth's forest-crested head.




200                     POETRY.
As she nods, with crashing sounds,
Shuddering in the ponderous blast,
Billowy-mantled Ocean bounds,
Smites, in foam, his margin vast.
Rocks and trees are rumbling borne
Down the lofty mountain's side;
By the raving tempest torn
From the peaks they crown'd with pride.
In the valleys, wide and deep,
On their peopled borders long,
Flood and wind tremendous sweep,
Bearing tumbling groves along.
Rocks and buildings, fences, trees,
Cattle, struggling with their fate,
Helpless man, in terror, sees,
And deplores the ruin great.
Sailors to the clouds are tost,
By the rushing waves and wind;
Then, replunging, seem as lost,
Till, again, the light they find.
Reckless mortals heavenward turn;
Feel their greatest power in prayer:
Beg, while Nature's furies burn,
He, who rules the world, may spare.




POETRY.                    201
ATLAS.
ATLAS lifts his giant head,
Pil'd with frosts of ages fled.
Highest point of Afric ground.
Erst of Heaven the prop renowned.
Icy helm and snowy crest,
Shine above his flinty breast.
Calm his lofty brow appears,
As in old Carthago's years;
When, of storms, he saw the tides
Rend his forest-cinictur'd sides.
As the trees that round him wave,
Rise, and sink into the grave,
Many a nation has his day
Seen, to rise and pass away.
Round his Heaven-invading brow,
Throng their ancient patriots now;
Scipio, Fabius, Hannibal:
Who perform'd their part so well,
With each other, love to dwell;
Of their earthly trials, tell;
Talk of fleeting glories, past,
And of States that could not last.
Party spirit's minions fly,
When they see a patriot nigh:
Guilty Hanno shrieks with fear,
When great Hannibal is near:
From his mild, accusing eyes,
Faction's State-destroyer flies.
Zama's terrors, Scipio's sword,
And his wretched country, gor'd
Ever haunt the Barcan's mind;
Doom'd but little rest to find,
Trooping with the sullen train,




202                    POETRY.
Souls, malignant, vile, and vain:
Ever prone to hellward fly,
At the look of honest eye;
From its glance they troubled start,
Like the thunder's fiery dart,
That o'er Heaven, with quivering leap,
Bursts from stormy dungeon deep.
WHAT IS, MAY       BE BEST.
WERE hell so near,
That all could hear
The damned groan,'Twould less be known,
If love, or fear, mankind
To righteous deeds inclin'd;
For knaves would, more
Alarm'd, daub o'er
Their whited tomb;
In deeper gloom,
Pursue confiding prey:
More trusted, more betray.
Uncertainty
Leaves will more free
The path to find
Whereto inclin'd,
Less forc'd by terror's yoke,
To wear ill fitting cloak.
P Who knows but Heaven
Enough has given
Of needed light,
To guide aright,
And save the well inclin'd,
From snares of evil mind I




POETRY.                    203
TRANSLATION       FROM    THE   BEGINNING      OF
THE HENRIADE.
I SING the hero, that o'er Gallia reign'd,
Whose throne the right of birth and conquest gain'd.
By great misfortunes taught, to rule, he knew,
To calm the factions, pardon and subdue.
He made Mayenne, the League, and Spain, retire,
And prov'd his people's conqueror, and their sire.
Truth, power august, from lofty Heaven descend,
And to my song thy force and radiance lend;
Let ears of kings be used to know thy voice;
Of what they ought to learn, make thou the choice.'Tis thine, before the eyes of States, to show
What ill effects from their divisions flow;
How discord curs'd our provinces reveal,
Nor people's woes, nor princes' faults conceal.
Come, speak; if fiction knew, in former days,
To blend her dulcet with thy lofty lays;
If her fair hand adorn'd thy stately head,
And if her shades made bright the beams you shed,
Permit her, on thy steps, to march with me,
To grace, not hide thy charms, that all may see.
WHO    IS  THIS?
His eyes are projected; his manner is green;
His reason is whirl'd in a torrent of spleen;
His nose is acute; his cheeks pallid and flat;
His voice much resembles the mew of a cat;
His gait is uneasy, uneven, and shy;
Head, body, face, members, are always awry;




204                    POETRY.
And, e'en when in slumber, is drooping his head,
He wanders, in dreams, through the glooms of the dead:
And evil conceits keep the sleeper in scowl,
As nestling with serpents, or vermin most foul.
The mind on the vizage leaves tracks very queer,
And certifies sadly of some mortals here.
ON CHANGES.
MORN glows, noon flames, and the dim, shadowy eve
Of the ripe day, turns into sullen night.
Change is the child of Time, and Change marks all.
Each hour, a varying feature shows of day:
Each moment gives to coming moments place,
Unlike in semblance, each, and varying all.
The day from day, the year from year, and age from age.
Now Nature glories, jubilant with life,
Her green hair waving under smiling skies;
Fair summer teems with fruits, in colors gay;
Life's music, and life's beauty, fill the world;
The sighing zephyrs kiss the blushing flowers,
Whispering their loves along the fragrant meads;
Now screams the tempest wild, and scowls the storm,
With dark-brow'd rage, with rumbling thunder charged:
Wide-flaming lightnings strike heaven's startled void;
The sluicy torrents fall from melting clouds,
Gladdening the thirsty breast of foodful Earth:
Now winter's icy pall life's march restrains,
With heart-pervading chill, and aspect cold,
To rocky ice transforming murmuring streams.
Earth's talking strata, the lost pleiad, shells,
And bones of races, now extinct, proclaim
The constancy of Change: and seem to say,
Existence is but motion to successive ends.




POETRY.                     205
TRANSLATION      FROM    ILIAD-VIII.-130.
DEFEATED, now, the Trojan host had fled
To sheltering Troy; but Heaven the battle led;
Jove, thundering downward, quivering lightnings hurl'd;
Loud, near Tydides' steeds, he smites the world;
Their breasts on earth, the car against them roll'd.
By blazing sulphur stunn'd, they rent the wold:
No longer Nestor's hands the reins could hold:
Alarm'd, he warns the Chief: Can'st thou not see
Great Jove, this day, no victory sends to thee?
Swift seek the fleet; such seems the God's command.
And luckless they, who dare his will withstand;
This moment, Hector's glory, Jove ordains;
Hope, then, his future aid, and fly these dreadful plains.
BEAUTY     OF   NATURE.
RUDDY morning soon will break;
Lordly Sol ascend the sky;
Birds, with cheerful songs, awake;
Night, with all her shadows, fly:
Nature, then, with robe of light,
Will her sweetest charms display,
Crimson rose and lily white,
Blooming on her face of day.




206                     POETRY.
Dazzling sunbeams, odorous air,
Kissing, steal her dewy tears,
As, in joyful beauty, fair,
Nature, crown'd with day, appears.
In her brilliant pomp of stars,
Mountains high, and oceans wide;
In her elemental wars,
Grandeur dwells with her, in pride.
Space, her Temple; God, her Sire;
Lights eternal gild her dome;
Boundless were the soul's desire,
Boundless were her joys of home.
THE    SOCL.
RESTLESS, in her prison dark
Glad the soul would pinions find,
Far to rove, in freedom stark,
To no bounds of earth confin'd.
Tost on waves of hope and fear,'Tis not yet for man to know
States in many a higher sphere,
States in many a sphere below.
If the soul material be,
But of lightning's nimble gleam,
Happy hosts the freed may see,
Round the earth, in brightness stream.




POETRY.                     207
Others cast a lurid ray;
For, in time, their deeds were bad:
Still, whom evil instincts sway,
Must endure the hard and sad.
THE    BALANCE.
ADDRESSED TO THURSTON H. GENIN, SEPT., 1845.
WHY spend we life in search of gold?
Can one, in death, the treasure hold?
In time, how small th' allotted share!
The food we eat, the clothes we wear!
Of Providence, we hold at will.
Each only can his measure fill.
All wealth is but a vexing toy,
Beyond the bounds we may enjoy.
The tinsell'd trappings, shining gay,
Can chase no pain or grief away.
The savory meats, so much that please,
Oft aggravate, or bring disease:
And he who seeks far more to gain,
Than what suffices to maintain,
O'erclouds his days with needless care,
Nor gets of bliss a common share.
Seek, then, a competence, nor be
The slave of wealth or poverty.
Like true utilitarian, try
All things to usefully apply.
Nor deem corporeal wants alone,
To man, of deathless soul, are known.
The wants of body and of mind,
Should, equally, indulgence find.




208                    POETRY.
Sweet pleasures dwell in mental fields;
Delightful harvests wisdom yields:
Thrice happy they, of noble aims,
Whose souls are warm'd by generous flames,
Who by no sect or passion bound,
To all mankind are friendly found:
Who on the earth not stay, but live;
To every sense enjoyment give;
Nor pain the ear to gratify
The taste, the smell, or curious eye:
Nor let one passion bear away,
What should the others' wants allay:
For all have equal rights from Heaven;
To none exclusive sway is given.
Gay Fancy, in her frolic mood,
Delights to feast on flowery food;
While judgment, sober-vizag'd, brings
In fit relation, things to things.
Imagination likes to soar
Through starry fields, and worlds explore:
Invention glories by her side,
And god-like reason, glorious guide!
They win, for wisdom, useful spoils;
Oft found and grac'd by Fancy's toils.
All aid each other, and should be
Maintain'd in sacred unity.
I, Reason, and you, Fancy, now,
You teach me well to make a bow;
Which adds a trifle to my grace;
And hence more welcome makes my face:
Thus, Fancy's uses are most plain:
To argue from abuse, is vain.
With us, thrift's claims are not allow'd
The arts, or poetry, to crowd:
We, now, in epic grandeur soar;
Now, over legal learning pore;
Now, gratify, th' artistic mind;




POETRY.                    209
Now, do the task, by gain enjoin'd.
No cause neglected at the bar,
One sings, at large, Napoleon's war;
One makes the canvas brilliant glow,
With scenes of human joy, or wo.
One thing at once! and we may see,
Our practice bring prosperity.
CINCINNATI, Oct. 10, 1845.
DEAR BROTHER:-Your ode, on governing the desires, and
treating them with reasonable indulgence, is received-You
know I have not the patience to rhyme, or to paint-The
reason I gave satisfaction to a dozen, or more, sitters, when
abroad for my health, was, that I felt over supplied with leisure. I am now much disposed to "do the task by gain enjoined," or amplify in the law on those elementary principles
we have discussed so often, in our walks, in the fair groves of
Belmont.
I have thrown together some ideas in prose, in answer to
your ode,-as follows:
We should not waste time at any thing. If gratified, by accumulating riches, some happiness is gained; which, once enjoyed, death itself cannot take away. This gain, then, is sure,
and without waste of time. If one can scarce hold six feet
of ground at last, he still may hold more when he can, and
when it is of use for him to do so. The millionaire can enjoy
no more than the beggar; yet, his competence is more certain; and the cares of wealth are not more troublesome than
the anxieties of poverty. Bright trappings cannot banish
pain; but the possession of comforts need not increase it.
The abuse of luxuries affords no argument against their use:.
No wealth is so great, but it may be employed to add to one'.
enjoyment, and no fortune is so small, but it may prove, with,




210                     POETRY.
unwise or unlucky management, a source of discomfort,
What constitutes a competence, is a difficult question. The
middle line is disputable. In seeking the happy medium some
get on one side. Fortune often puts the bridle on the owner
of riches; and instead of making them serve him, he becomes
their slave. This is his own fault. Because some permit
themselves to become asses, others should not be deterred
from laying up, even a large store, against accidents, infirmities, old age, poetry and painting, the wants of children,
grand children, and other relatives, whose obliging attentions
are desirable, aud who can scarce be expected to accord them,
with pleasing alacrity, without hope. The mind is pleased
with the gratifications of the body; it might be more pleased
with its own. Who neglects mental wants, neglects the best
opportunities of enjoyment. The mind should be kept in balance: The equal cultivation of each faculty imparts greater
energy to the faculties collectively. The lessons of reason,
would often not be read, without the embellishments of fancy.
In the schools, memory is too much cultivated at the expense
of judgment, and imagination. Thus, the active scholar becomes a dull lawyer, or preacher: and the world marvel, that
he looses the ascendency, when thrown upon his judgement,
that he maintained, when at school, by the strength of his
memory. Hence Milton, Goldsmith, and even Daniel Webster, had less repute at school than others of less note. The
intellectual wings, legs, or faculties, should not outgrow eachother, causing a hobbling gait; but be able to give reciprocal support, by possessing equal capabilities. One should
not be educated to be like a fiddle without a bow. It needs
several notes to make harmony. With some, Fancy plays
the Siren. Those who control their impulses, who have great
concentrativeness, and decision of character, may be civil to
enchantresses, without' being captivated and led astray.
Those who can discharge from their minds other matters, and
concentrate the mental force on one thing, may do it well;
still the safer opinion is, that one business, only, will fit one
genius. On the whole, we cannot do better, than to employ
what God has given us, to the best advantage; Avoid ex



POETRY.                     211
tremes, and, in all things act very reasonable; not forgetting
that improvement of mind is treasure laid up in heaven.
So you have my ode, still farther removed from verse, than
Dr. Donne's satires, and the wit, perhaps, less harmonious.
Affectionately yours, &c.,
THURSTON H. GENIN.
JUDGES XV.
SAMSON.
THEY brought him fetter'd, feet and hands,
Before the arn'd Philistine bands;
Whose numbers, lances, banners gay,
Bright glittering, fearful odds display.
The hostile host around him drew,
Intent the wonderous man to view;
While Israel's sons, in sadness, slow,
Andpensive, from their hero go:
By force oppressive, forced to yield,
To hated foes, their country's shield.
While some great Samson's form admire,
Or, from his startling glance, retire,
Awe-struck, before his speaking eye,
Accustom'd to behold X hem fly,
The vile, not deeming danger near,
Speak ribald jests he scorns to hear:
But, at th' insulting shout of foes,
A force divine, within him rose:
Like bow-string, snapt, he sudden sprung;
Beneath his feet, Earth hollow rung:
For shield, a well-arm'd chief he took:
His dexter hand a jaw-bone shook;




212                     POETRY.
On high, the fatal weapon bore,
With teeth, athirst for human gore.
His sinewy arm spread ruin wide;
Beneath his fury, hundreds died.
As some strong swain the sickle wields,
Aind fells the grain of fruitful fields;
So the fierce chief, with angry might,
Sweeps down proud ranks to endless night,
SAMSON'S DEATH.
His arms the pillars grasp; his feet below
Against them press, and, with exerted strength,
His muscles swell, and from their places rend
The blocks of marble, which sustain'd the dome:
Dread crash, and wail, and terror-vizag'd men
kmidst the tumbling edifice are seen.
A  DREAM.
ME thought I stood in hell, and past me troopkd
Grim shadowy forms and strange; while through the gloom
Shot fitful gleams, and plumes, and fiery helms.
A voice, like stifled growl of lions, swallowing blood,.
Rose from infernal throats; and hateful looks
Were cast, as march'd they o'er the smouldering ground,
With hollow-sounding tread, o'er cast, by fits,
With zig-zag lightnings, and wrath-flashing forms.
Discord, revenge, and every plague was there,




POETRY.                    21
With evil zeal, exerting powers malign.
Their march died on my ear, like ocean's roar,
When the tired winds scarce fan his weary waves.
Then, thinking of the just, the good, and kind,
Through hell's dark shroud I pass'd to upper light,
Near Heaven's eternal splendors. Flouting round,
With easy grace, in sparkling locks, with air
Of beauty, that celestial sweetness beam'd,
I saw th' angelic host, in joy supreme,
And felt the balmy, music-breathing wind,
Charg'd with the fragrance of etherial groves.
A lofty-streaming pennon's glossy folds,
Reflecting quivering blaze of restless light,
Wide undulating o'er the starry deep,
For leagues, from o'er an arch of flaming suns
Of every dye,,hat mingled splendors shower'd,
My sight arrested. While I tried to read
~Here none but those of upright heart and pure
May come," upon the billowy flag, I woke,
And found myself a subject still of Earth.
MY   PE GASSUS.
SEE how my old Pegassus with a slight thwack,
Upbears me aloft on his sharp bony back!
His tail stands erect, though it has not a hair;
His paunch rumbles loud, as we rush through the air.
High kicking the clouds, in a frolicsome flirt,
He sends up a mist, just as others do dirt.
He wore out his tail by outrunning the wind;
It scarce could keep hold on the spinal behind.
Both nag and the rider are lean as church mice:
In flight, their bones rattle, like hail on the ice:




214                     POETRY.
No matter, provided he keeps up his spirits;
And after long journeys, in proof of his merits,
He pricks up his ears, and his tail, with a squeal,
And high in the air throws his spindle-shank'd heel.
DAY    GRASPS    NOT    NIGHT,    NOR   IMAN      PURE
HAPPINESS:
STILL, sad, and lone, night broods o'er half the world,
Cold dew-drops trickling down her twilight veil,
Spread over brows star-gemm'd. With aspect east
Grave, from her realm of gloom, she views the day,
Fringing with gold her ample robe of shade,
And sullen, moves majestic from his gaze
Westward, o'er continents huge, and oceans vast.
His ardour wakes the thunder; but in vain
He chases round the Earth the dusky queen,
Giving glad interchange of light and shade,
And rest and motion to organic forms:
Thus mortals seek, but never overtake
Pure happiness; yet in the long pursuit
Diffuse great blessings, as, with glorious toil,
They work the general good. to effect their own.
One tempting bubble breaks, as soon as gained;
Another, in bright prospect, straight excites
Assiduous labor, and as empty proves:
Still, hope untir'd, the barren chase resumes;
The priceless prize must be beyond the grave.




POETRY.                     215
TO    DEATH.
0 DEATH, all conquering, when will cease thy reign!
Wilt thou be vanquished, or shall all things die,
And thou, in triumph, hold the blighted Earth!
The world quakes in thy presence: nations quail
At thy dread march; more swift, than eagle wing'd,
More strong, than lion of the desert wild,
In vain, fell hunter, flies thy shrieking prey:
It falls amidst its flight, piere'd by thy shafts.
From thy sure aim poor man no refuge finds;
No safe retreat; the castled citadel;
The tangled woods; the warriors arms and shield;
The pharmacy of science' sons, ward not
Thy arrows keen. The soft-arm'd infant mild,
The maiden, rosy-cheek'd, are prostrate laid,
With mighty men. Nor vigor iron-nerv'd;
Nor tender inlocence; nor sunny eyes
Of winning beauty, thy remorseless heart
Can move. Where art thou not, O dreaded power!
In ocean's dark recesses thou art thron'd:
The mariner meets thee on the roaring surge,
Toss'd in the angry whirlwind's foamy path:
Thou rid'st the black wings of the stormy blast,
Shattering tall-masted navies; and thou mov'st
In pleasure's flowery ways; in sorrow's shades;
In power and splendor's stately palaces;
In poverty's obscure and sad abodes;
On crimson battle fields; in peaceful homes;
Rending, with grief, the amiable and kind,
And steeping earth with sacred friendship's tears.
Pale vizag'd terror, and loud wails, attend
Thy desolating steps. 0, kindly bear
Me to thy shades, by sudden lightning stroke;




216                    POETRY.
Nor let me hear the voice of anguish'd hearts
Around my bed, burdening my soul with grief;
Nor, pining, see thy ghastly slow approach
Through lengthen'd years of life-consuming pain.
But come not, with thy heart-o'erclouding gloom,
Until the frost of age shall blanch my locks;
My parents be repaid their tender cares;
My manly strength support their tottering age;
My deeds the annals of my race adorn;
And virtuous life establish claim to Heaven.
But if unfurnish'd with the needful wings
To scale the glorious heights; still stay thy dart;
For well endeavoring wins Heaven's kind regard.
RESOLUTION      TO   ATTACK     THE   PERSIANS AT
THE    GRANICUS.
To where the imperial standard wav'd, above
The stately tent, in glittering folds, each eye
Was turn'd, as trumpet's voice call'd every chief
To meet in council, with Olympia's son;
Who strode his tent, impatient to discern
In every face, if confidence prevail'd,
Ere he the meditated battle join'd.
Obedient came the gray hair'd, and the young;
Those, who made Philip hope to rule the world;
And those, who saw no danger, but in rest:
A manly'throng, from noblest nature hewn;
By exercise, and temperance, improv'd.
Hope, prudence, firmness, valor, glorious scars,
Sat on their brows, recalling battles past,
And triumphs over Greek and barbarous foes,
O'er Granicus, they eyed the Persian force:
Indignant viewed the foe-protecting stream;
The bristling, steep acclivity beyond,




POETRY.                    217
And look'd as if, in thought, engag'd in fight,
Impressing on their minds the country's shape,
And true position of the Persian host,
Resolving just opinions to advance.
Before the youthful king, all reverent stood:
Youth's ardor, age's wisdom from him blaz'd:
He eyes the veteran council; in them sees
Firm self-reliance, dissipating doubt
Of sage Parmenio: he, in their past,
Beholds their future triumphs, and for fight declares;
At which, each vizage sudden glows with joy:
Enough, he cries; each from his heart assents;
Although the Sun is on his downward march,
Bucephalus shall soon his monarch bear
Up yonder steep; who would with him keep pace,
By strength and valor need be greatly serv'd:
Haste, plunge the phalanx in the rushing waves,
Ourself will, forthwith, lead the bounding horse.
MANY-VOICED       COMMOTION.
CLOUDs pil'd on clouds, in tempest, darkening roll,
In ocean masses; loud, the rushing wind,
Resistless, sweeps along the groaning earth,
That reels beneath its forest-crashing power.
The huge trunk'd woods, in stormy chaos whirl'd,
With roots and limbs commingled, ride the air,
Tangled and shiver'd in their gnarled hearts;
Snatch'd from their realm of shade, by giant hands,
And thrown, like chaff, upon the troubled sky.
Black night, and fiery day, alternate reign;
Condensing clouds land-flooding torrents pour:
The broad Earth trembles at the thunder's march,
And many-voic'd commotion stirs the soul.
Hoarse raves the wind-torn main; convulsive heaves




218                     POETRY.
His mighty breast; he maddened strikes his shores,
In foamy rage, and flings his billowy arms
Against cloud-shielded heaven. Mankind, with awe,
Behold the storm, and hear its various voice:
Its frenzied rage; the rush of floods; the wild
World-startling roar; shaking wide continents,
With all their sky-crown'd mountains, lakes and seas.
ODE    TO   THE   WIND.
0, GENTLE furious, various-toned wind;when first didst thou
blow, and, with refreshing breath, fan the rolling Earth?
When first rise in thy rage, to break the tree, among whose
branches thou hadst often played?  Didst thou first, breathe,
when gentle Eve, in goddess-like beauty, made lovelier by innocence and primneval manners, fresh from her Creator's hand, in
Eden placed, on flowers ever fair, of brightest tint, first felt
thy balmy breath upon her cheek of graceful curve, where the
bright rose, harmonious mingling with the fair lily, formed the
rich carnation? She raised her ivory hand to feel what touched
so softly, her fair face, and moved her curling hair; but thou
hadst fled: She felt in vain, then raised her pleasing eyes, bright
in lovely innocence, and turned her graceful head. Her raven
tresses floated on her neck, in waving curls, and down her snowy
back, and over her heaving breast. With wonder moved, again
she feels, again she tries to see the reed, that late stood still,
now waved before her view; holds it with her hand until it
ceases to move, then, released, beholds it wave again. The forbidden tree whose lofty height she had beheld with wonder, as,
calm it reared its lofty head, met next her gaze. She backward
shrunk, astonished: It seemed to move! 0 wind, then didst
thou blow in Paradise, the wonder of the primeval race: Then
first they felt thy soft wing; and afterwards thou wast their
joy, when they heard thee coursing through the rustling trees 




POETRY.                    219
and when, by Satan's power, and moved by sin, they disobeyed
God's law, and mournful wept, condemned to leave their natal
home, and wander in a lower worldof wo, thou camest to sooth
their toilsome march, and cheer their barren home, their fainting spirits to revive, their feverish heat to cool, and sweep from
their abode pestilential exhalations, with thy health-preserving wings
How they loved thy greeting, 0 wind, in the vernal mornings, when laden with the fragrance of fresh-born flowers; or
when thou fann'd the sultry noon of leaf-crown'd Summer, panting in verdant pomp, and listening with increased delight to
the music of the gurgling stream; or made the lofty groves,
and the meadows and fields of bearded grain, to wave in graceful undulation, casting varying shade as they bowed to thy airy
power; nor did they hear without emotion thy autumnal voice
in the faded woods, as the many color'd foliage was borne along
on thy pinions; nor view unmoved the various forms wrought
by thy fluency on the snowy breast of cold winter as the white
banks rose in fantastic shapes unnumbered, under the lee of the
leafless hedge, or bleak hill, moulded by thy whistling breath.
The year, from thy kisses, glows with beauty, and nature
attains more varied charms, as thou givest graceful motion to
the leafy branches of the verdant groves, dimpling the smooth
surface of the lake, stirring the deep seas, the giant-limbed forests, the flowery meads, wafting the fragrance of blossoms, rejoicing in youthful freshness, rolling the clouds through the
sun-illumed sky, or along the face of the silvery moon, when
the voice of the bird of night is heard, and urging the roving
mariner over the heaving breast of ocean, and making sailwinged navies crowd the dark waters into banks of snowy foam,
before their rushing prows.
In thy slumber, when the waves subside in a level plain, the
impatient sailor, mourning his listless plight, in oeolian tones,
invokes thee to rise. With joy he sees, afar, thy light feet
dimple in spots, the lazy flood. At length thou comest, in thy
power, and the monotony of the watery wild departs: over its
broad bosom roll foam crested billows; the canvass swells-; the
strained cordage owns thy power; and the reanimated tar,




220                     POETRY.
flushed with high hopes, is borne on, in foam, towards the home
of his youth.
The breath of nature, thou addest to the vivacity of the fair
sunny day, and to the grandeur of the storm, as thou bearest.
his throne of clouds through the frowning heaven. Mild, yet
dreadful; gentle, yet terrible; who can describe thy rage, when
rocks are swept from the mountain's brow, and forests borne
aloft by thy frantic arms!
LABOR.
USEFUL labor, fit employ,
Source of health, and every joy,
Warms the cheek with rosy dye;
Lights, with gladsome smiles, the eye;
Swells the form with buoyant grace;
Moulds, with beauty's curve, the face;
Makes thick tresses, shining, float;
Gives the voice its joyful note;
Every nerve sensations sweet;
Soft the steady pulse to beat:
To the harp " of thousand strings,"
Harmony and vigor brings:
Makes the chords of life to chime,
Uttering dulcet tune to time,
As, with constant hand, he flings
Days and years across the strings.
Woes of idleness unknown,
Comes no self-accusing tone;
Outward ills afflict alone,
Sprung from causes not our own.
Sleepless nights and tedious days,
Haunt not peaceful labor's ways;




POETRY.                     221
By whose energy advance'd,
Every blessing is enhanc'd;
Water, more the taste delights;
With more strength the feast invites;
Each repast, with gust, is blest;
Slumber brings refreshing rest:
With reflection, comes content
For the past, with profit spent;
And in works, forever good,
Finds the soul immortal food.
DAY OF JUDGMENT.
I SLEPT, while centuries roll'd, and state on state
Rose on the tide of time, and pass'd away,
As exhalations from the marshy wastes,
Oceans, and rivers, that o'erload the air
With wind-tost storm clouds, and from troubled sky,
In rain drops fall, and mix with lands and waves.
As raging tempests, blasting conquerors swept
The green earth's face, with desolating force;
Then ceas'd, like spent winds, and earth smiled again,
As clear'd of storm. In alternation, thus,
Like causes like effects producing, mov'd
The good and evil fortunes of mankind,
Through the long period of my deep repose.
And now, the time prescribed by fate, had come;
Nature's last pulse had beat; life's wheels were still
The waning sun grew cold, and pale; the moon,
Darkening, was scarce discern'd; a mournful gloom
O'er spread the earth; her barren breast no more
Was fann'd by gales; no silvery rivulets flow'd,
Watering the meads; but stagnant, still, and cold,




222                     POETRY.
They slept on blasted lands; the rivers roll'd
Their glassy waves no more to Ocean's bed
Of brine; his mighty deep itself was still;
Nor moan'd in sounding caves, nor lash'd the murmuring sho res:
A deathful silence reigned, and gloom profound;
When, lo, the archangel, in mid-heaven, on wing,
Before Jehovah's throne, mouth'd the dread trump,
With throat ordain'd to rouse the sleeping dead:
So high its voice, that all the thunders loud,
And all the furious storms, that ever swept
A planetary world, in one conjoin'd,
Compar'd to this, were but a bee's faint hum,
Contrasted with the angry lion's roar.
Blast after blast, in quick succession, sends
Intense vibrations through creation's bounds;
While the vast circle with the unnumbered worlds,
Trembling, like aspen leaves, disgorged their dead 
Then mortal substance vanish'd; nought remain'd,
But the immortal spirit freed from dust,
And indestructible. The countless host,
From countless places, in the land and waves,
Ascended, summon'd by the trump of doom.
The good and wicked, mingled stand before
God's throne, in humble plight, for sentence just,
Mild, or severe, as they, in righteousness,
Or wickedness, had pass'd their lives on earth.
On dazzling throne, that living radiance shed,
On sapphire pillars rais'd, the Almig~hty sat,
In dread effulgence veil'd: awe-struck, had shrunk
Unnumber'd millions; but no hiding place
Immensity could give. Some faces beam'd
Distressful apprehension, and some beat
Their visionary breasts: For each retain'd
The semblance still of his terrestrial form.
Before, with reverent air, two seraphs stood,
Their pearly brows grac'd with ambrosial curls,
Which down their waists, in graceful ringlets flow'd,
Cast rays of mild effulgence, as they bore,




POETRY.                    223
On high, the book of fate: each filmy leaf
Once the sensorium of each being's frame,
Or transcript of each soul's each act, and thought,
Thereon self-stamp'd and conscience-judg'd, in time.
Their hands, like gentle winds, the leaves turn o'er,
Big with the weal or wo of all mankind.
Innumerable angels, now, with speed
Of lightning, move among the assembly vast,
Swift separating the commingled souls,
As final judgment on their thoughts and deeds
Gave them to endless wo, or heavenly joys;
Or for a bounded period, doom'd to pain.
The omniscient eye, meanwhile, th' existence viewed
Of every being in the numerous host;
And all their actions, good and bad; designs
And circumstances; weigh'd and judg'd the whole.
A momentary gloom of grief o'ercast
His face, and nature droop'd through all her worlds,
To see what numbers had their ruin wrought;
So few, compar'd with all, secure of bliss.
They knew not why the great division made;
In racking doubt, and buoyant hope they stood,
Uncertain of their everlasting doom.
With mingled majesty and goodness, smil'd
The Eternal Father; and the gracious look,
Immensity illum'd, as he uprose
To enjoy the bliss of just benificence,
That goodness only feels. He to the blest
Upon the right, while at each motion, flam'd
Etherial splendors, spoke with kindly tone:
"Ye victors o'er the frailties of your race,
Who ruled your passions; taught my precepts well,
By great examples, and my laws obey'd;
Ye benefactors of the human kind,
Who virtues taught, and virtuous deeds perform'd;
Ye sons of science; legislators wise;
Who pitying man's estate his miseries sooth'd;
His wants reliev'd; who nourished useful arts




224                     POETRY.
And sciences; and thus the groveling mind
Prepar'd to comprehend and take my lore;
And in all things behold the lord of all;
Ye claim my great regard: Henceforth enjoy
Immortal peace, in my eternal realm."
He spoke, and at cherubic signal, to the right,
Elate with joy, the multitude advance;
In brightness swelling, flush'd with light divine,
As heavenly spirit heavenly vigor took:
Sweet strains from instruments and voice, arose,
As o'er the fields of Amaranth, and rills
Of nectar, and ambrosial joyful scenes,
They march'd, with easy graceful steps, away.
The unhappy host, from their position, gaz'd
With longing eyes on that receding mass;
Which vanish'd from their vision soon, in clouds
Of splendor. Darkness now, as when eclips'd,
The central light is shorn of half his beams,
Pervades the presence of the eternal throne;
And to the unblest thus speaks the Lord of worlds:
"Ye, who made show of virtue, till, yourselves
Deceiv'd, imagin'd Heaven itself was blind;
Form-practisers, not substance-doers; bold
Game-makers of my sway; upsending prayers
From tongues, not hearts; vain boasters, proud
Of formal righteousness, of Heaven despis'd;
And ye, more honest knaves, who frankly gave
Your lives to vice, go, all to ceasless wo.
But you, less thoughtful souls, that, well inclin'd,
Were urg'd by circumstances into sin;
Omitting to resist temptation's wiles;
Whom yonder hypocrites with felons yok'd,
Exposed to crime, withholding wages due;
Your youth polluting, punishing your age;
Forgetful of your past existence, soon,
Another mortal trial shall ye have;
Life's cares and toils and hopes and fears again
Upon another planet shall be yours.




POETRY.                      225
He ceas'd; these wept; those wail'd in hopeless grief,
As in dark tempest whirl'd they downward roll'd.
These, pitying angels bore to distant orbs
Through gloom Lethean, there to be reborn.
MERCY.
SPRUNG from greatness, glorious born,
Rose of beauty on life's thorn,
Meek-eyed Mercy! thou above
Passion's storm, mild-beaming love,
Draw'st the reverence of mankind.
Though to war's harsh rule confin'd,
Valor's votaries own thy sway:
Noble hearts thy voice obey.
Justice draws her sword for thee,
Sheaths it at thy high decree:
All her actions lovlier seem,
Temper'd by thy heavenly beam.
Dweller, kind, in lofty souls!
Statesmen wise, thy lore controls.
Wisdom, Virtue, Justice, twine
Wreaths, to grace thy brows divine.
When the day of war shall fade,
Sinking in reproachful shade;
When his horrid glories bright,
Fall in never-ending night,
His connexion with thy name,
Still, from death, shall save his fame:
Brilliant, o'er his sad career,




226                     POETRY.
Oft will beam thy starry tear.*
Virtue, with indignant treacl
Walking midst the slaughtered dead,
Feels of joy a heavenly glow,
As she hears of solac'd wo:
On the hateful scene of blood,
Gathers what thou sow'd of good,
And records each act of thine,
In the book of things divine.
Man may numerous nations sway:
Genius wonderous powers display;
Still, unblest by Virtue's smile,
Barren proves the mighty toil!
Goodness vital spirit gives,
To the deed that deathless lives.
*VARIATION.
JUSTICE, with a scornful glance,
Where oblivion's shades advance.
O'er the monster's tomb of night,
Shrouding actions, ghastly bright,
Sees, in sadness, beaming clear,
Mercy's many a starry tear.
THE    HOME    OF    BEAUTY.
0, WHO can look on Nature's face,
Nor feel her sweet attractive grace!
Deep blushing in the bloom of May,
Or bright with fruits of Autumn's day:




POETRY,                     227
Or in the blaze of morning's light;
Or in the star-deck'd veil of night;
Or in her virgin garb of snow;
Or green attire in summer's glowo
How beautiful the wind-wav'd trees,
The nodding flowers, in grassy seas I
The song of birds, the flow of rills,
The varied forms of vales and hills!
The cloudy shapes, through heaven that sail,
With varying aspect on the gale 
The fleetly-rolling snow-capp'd seas,
Gay dancing to the buoyant breeze!
Earth wrapt in silvery robes of light,
Returning Luna's glances bright;
Back smiling on the Queen of Night!
As through the blue expanse she glides,
And heaves old ocean's mighty tides;
The dewy tears of grey-eyed morn;
The glories, that her face adorn;
The tints of golden-misted eve,
As day, with pensive eye, takes leave,
And twilight's hand, nights gate unbars,
Mild ushering darkness, crown'd with stars;
A shadowy queen, that rules alone,
Mysterious, on her dusky throne;
The gloomy grandeur of the skies,
As vapory masses darkening rise;
The lightning's leap from stormy cloud,
Chas'd by earth-shaking thunder loud;
While rise the winds, down rush the floods;
Dim seen through mist, wild wave the woods;
But soon the clouds, dissolv'd in tears,
The earth in brighter smiles appears;
Sol's rays, with gladness, seem to rest
Upon her life-sustaining breast:
In brief, all things to sight that come,
Proclaim, that here is Beauty's home.




228                    POETRY.
INDIAN    GHOSTS    AT   NIAGARA.
Niagara calls from loud thundering throne,
And throws up the spray of swift torrents more high;
When trooping, in tempest, with storm-trumpet tone,
Come Indian ghosts, glancing along the grim sky.
The vales, where their wigwams and children had beene
The hills, the fair rivers, the glens that they love,
They quit for high revelry in the wild scene:
In th' earth-rending uproar they joyfully rove.
In mist, high ascending, some gracefully rise;
Some glance, as on thunder bolts, o'e~ the white foam;
Some, with the storm spirits, dart round in the skies;
And some on the breast of the tumbling flood roam.
They join in the crash, in the shout and the wail,
The trembling of nature, as rages the storm,
The cataract's thunder, the wild rushing gale,
And ride the vex'd air on dark clouds of grim form.
CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER          APPEARANCES.
0, LOVELIEST, sweetest flower of earth!
From Paradise, an angel straying?
Thou sure art not of mortal birth;
But heaven-born seraph, with us staying.
Around thee, closely clings my soul;
For thee, I live; for thee, would die:
Love's warmest fires my heart control;
Now make me laugh; now bid me sigh!
So sung the swain; but chang'd his tone,
When he, rejected, stood alone:
You ugly, speckled, wrinkled frog,




POETRY.                    229
With gutteral tones of bristly hog!
A curse upon your squinting eye 
I bid your crooked shanks, good-bye:
You hump-back'd, hollow-breasted loon!
You slab-fac'd dog,with eyes of moon:
You wry-mouth'd cheat; low, heartless knave
With soul too small, for aught to save:
Thy ill-form'd scalp, and sneaking face,
Proclaim, thou art mankind's disgrace.
VICE   ITS   OWN    PUNISHMENT.
ALIKE to states and men shall flow,
From sinful deeds, avenging wo.
Whene'er the hand of reckless power,
Hurls justice from her sacred throne,
The seeds of plagues, that must devour,
By that unrighteous act are sown:
Straight springs a hideous monster brood,
With instincts of infernal source;
Fell rapine, wrong, and hate, their food,
And blood and ruin mark their course.
Unhappy, who their country see,
Become too vicious to be free;
They need not grieve to childless die,
Or fade beneath a foreign sky,
When wrong, with heaven-defying head,
On laws and oaths, makes dastard rulers tread.
0, land of Washington and Jay 
Whom virtue blest with freedorns day:
What mighty cause hast thou to weep
Thy sons, in Mexico, that sleep:
To slavery's Moloch bow'd their life;
Their deeds were brave., but vile the strife:




230                     POETRY.
They fell, no native land to shield:
Their triumphs deadly plagues will yield,
They gain'd fell discord's fatal prize;
From which, shock'd Freedom turns her eyes,
And looks on other days, with tears,
On virtuous men, and happier years;
Feels hope within her bosom die:
She heavenward lifts her tearful eye;
Lest Justice, with indignant hand,
Blast, with war's scourge, th' invader's land,
O'erwhelm'd beneath the tide of wo,
That refluent rolls from Mexico.
0, impious race, can justice sleep?
From Heaven, impends th' avenging blow:
Repentant tears you soon may weep:
For your proud States, what fearful harvests grow 
Your lawless rapine's raging flame,
Turn'd on yourselves, will it grow tame,
When discord's hand your Union's knot unties,
And war's red sword divides your pirate prize?
You, then, may weep o'er Freedorms tomb,
Oppress'd with shame, and hopeless wo;
No ray to cheer the mournful gloom;
Reproachful degradation know;
Faint, writhing at oppression's heel;
And Slavery's crimes, in bitterest anguish, feel.
For ravenous Ruin's haggard eye,
Shall ghastly glare on midnight sky;
Fell slaughter rave, in boundless rage;
Nor spare or beauty, sex, or age:
The torch of discord angry glow;
Fraternal blood in battle flow;
Until the wild and madden'd tide,
Shall, at a tyrant's voice, subside,
And in despotic calm remain:
Nought heard, but sighs, and clank of Slavery's chain.




POETRY.                     231
THE    STEAMER.
THE fire-steed of ocean now springs from the shore;
How lightly he prances the green billows o'er I
He tosses his star-spangled mane to the skies,
And snorting, in thunder, fast seaward he flies:
The waters below
Are whirl'd, as in wrath,
And whiten, as snow,
His green rolling path:
He spreads his broad penvons, the breezes to hail;
Impatiently stretches his arms to the gale:
The quick-spouting breath of his strong iron lung,
Is far on the winds, like a stormy cloud, flung.
And laboring more loud,
As waves on him crowd,
He rushes along,
Triumphantly strong!
Out-running the tempest, the sails belly back;
Behind, pant the racers of air, on his track;
High wafting the vapors his nostrils have cast,
O'er heaven's expansion, unbounded, and vast.
Still trampling, in pride,
The world-grasping tide,
Untir'd in the race,
He urges his pace:
His giant arms faster belabor the flood;
And swifter he bounds on the billowy road:
The big foaming surges he scatters in spray,
And crushes the billows that leap in his way.
While far in his rear,
The swept waves appear
To pause, in surprise,
As from them he flies:




232                     POETRY.
His silvery wake, on the tempested breast
Of ocean, remains in comparative rest:
The strong rushing currents he dashes behind,
O'erpowering the strength of the billows and wind,
In swift eddies cast,
Run smoothly and fast;
Still feeling the force,
That gives them their course.
VIRTUE.
0, THAT, secur'd by Virtue's power
No vices could one's fate control,
Or taint th' unguarded youthful soul,
In sad misfortune's luckless hour;
That every act and thought might be
Kind, just, and wise; high, bold, and free.
Let wisdom rouse, in timely hour,
The glorious death-defying flame,
That gives the nobly useful aim,
The lofty structure-rearing power;
The energy divine,
That makes the soul incline
To what is great and good;
To breast th' opposing flood
Of passions, breathing siren song;
Enticing man, himself, to wrong,
As oft as feeble reason sleeps,
Or carelessly her sentry keeps.
Assisted by its heavenly power,
And guiding light,
Intent on right,
In safety, or in peril's stormy hour,




POETRY.                     233
With zeal, th' unyielding soul
Shall seek the glorious goal,
Uncheck'd by vice, or folly's adverse tide,
Or aught that darkens or illumes the way,
On victory's eagle pinions bent to ride,
Till high success the worthy toil repay.
THE    DEAD.
WHEN steer'd across life's stormy wave,
My lone bark harbors in the grave,
0, let not love, or hatred, keep
The place in memory where I sleep;
Nor tears of wo, by friendship shed,
Bedew the cold sod o'er my head;
Nor bursting sighs disturb the gloom
Of silence, round my lonely tomb;
But heedless pass the human race,
And no fond eye e'er seek the place,
In contemplation sad, to see,
Of life's bright hopes, th' inanity.
There, let me sleep, unknown to all,
In endless shade of death's dark pall:
Let no memorial o'er me rise,
To vainly tell, what under lies:
Of greedy death, curtail no claim:
Give him my body, deeds, and name;
Nor memory one sad relic keep;
Let all in dark oblivion sleep.
For famnes loud blast, or friendship's moan,
Pass o'er the grave, unheard, unknown,
To coward vile, and hero brave;
To tyrant master, and his slave;




234                      POETRY.
Ambition's fools, and sons of worth;
The smallest, greatest, of the earth;
To those who tower'd above the crowd;
Or, far beneath it meanly bow'd.
OH, if one's life example give,
To greatly do, or wisely live,
Or add to virtue's blissful power,
Its fragrance death shall not devour:
Ordain'd forever to endure,
Where virtue's recompense is sure;
Ordain'd, above, to deathless shine,
With things immortal and divine.
If not o'erlook'd, like floweret fair,
Whose sweets are lost on desert air,
Man's interests will demand its praise,
When for the dead no food'twill raise;
When truth can work no rival's ill,
And envy's baleful voice is still.
Beyond the reach of mortals fled,
Not man, but Heaven rewards the dead.
For works, they on the world bestow'd,
The debt must be forever owed.
They, through past toils, man's wants relieve,
But nothing, in return, receive:
What seems for them, or done, or said,
Is for the living, not the dead.




POETRY.                     235
THE    POWER     OF   LOVE.
THE beams of love, thy bright eyes dart,
Nor brazen shield, nor cuirass, ward;
Love's witching voice will reach the heart;
0, who, from love, secure can guard!
A tear-drop glisten'd in thine eye;
My soul was mov'd with sympathy:'Twas then you saw the unguarded part,
And captive, then, you took my heart!
Press'd by thy beauty's conquering arms,
I turn'd, to shun their dazzling ray;
Thy voice, then, uttering tuneful charms,
Subdued me, as I fled away!
Thy songs of joy, thy tears and smiles,
Induc'd me to unveil my breast:
Encompass'd, thus, by Cupid's wiles,
No wonder, you my heart possessd!
Now earth deserted seems, and drear;
Unless your sunny eyes are near:
Joyless and slow the moments roll;
Unless your presence lights the soul.




236                    POETRY.
THE    SEASONS
SPRING advanc'd with joyful pace,
Youthful glow'd her rosy face;
Earth she kiss'd, and blossoms sprung!
Smil'd, and countless songsters sung!
Down the verdant sprouting hills,
Murmuring pour'd the silvery rills.
Summer next, with graceful mien,
Enters on the thrifty scene:
Moving, a majestic queen,
In her flowing robes of green;
Stretches forth her leafy hand,
Dances with the breezes bland.
On her fondly looks the day;
Wooing, he prolongs his stay:
From gay east to glowing west,
Greets, with smiles, her lovely breast;
Gives it every pleasing shade,
That may fruitful beauty aid.
Fierce, his ardent beams he pours;
Tells his love in thunder showers;
While the winds, in cloudy garbs,
Starting swift, on airy barbs,
Through the lightning-blazon'd hall,
Course o'er seas and mountains tall,
Sweeping through the rustling woods,
And foam-crowning ocean's floods.
Autumn comes, with robes of gold,
Auburn hair, luxuriant roll'd;




POETRY,                     23T
Graceful waves each shining fold;
Joyful hopes her arms uphold;
Crown'd with tints of various dye,
Softly sweet, as blended sky.
Here and there, are faded seen,
What was once a brilliant green;
And the cool mild frosted morn,
Shines on blushing peach and corn.
Winter comes, with snowy wreathes;
Realms grow paler, as she breathes:
Howling winds disorder'd bear,
In mad whirls, her frosty hair,
O'er the ice-encumber'd flood;
Through the leafless stately wood;
With chill glance, she passes by,
Blanch'd her cheek, and cold her eye.
ON   POETRY.
BRIGmHT colors shall fade, and the canvas decays
But the song of the poet shall ne'er pass away:
Through voices of ages,'twill glorious roll:
The wide earth its kingdom; its home, the great soul!
Its reign and its realm; coexistent, shall stand;
The voice of its wisdom affect the wide land;
Till death, high triumphing o'er creation vast,
Of all things, beholds the destruction at last.
The poet must die, though his song may remain;
But ere he returns to the dust of the plain,
Fit works are the fruits'tis his duty to bear
Whom genius illumes, deathless structures should rear.




238                    POETRY.
Resume thy vocation, then, master of song;
Pursue the high end, though the world seem in wrong;
What if thy conceptions exceed common power:
This only insures immortality's dower:
Who, of the large masses, attracts many eyes,
May doubt if his muse is belov'd by the wise.
This good, from neglect, one may confident reap;
And thus, be encourag'd to heavenward keep.
Who looks to the woods, or the owls, for renown,
Would nothing effect, that, with pride, he could own:
They seek the esteem of the learn'd and the wise,
Whose glory is destin'd forever to rise.
CAESAR.
A DAMNING reign succeeds great Cesar's fall:
By nature moulded nations to command,
High thron'd by godlike virtues, genius-crown'd.
Imperial nature's own appointed king
Falls by assassins: Vile men, faction-sprung,
Cumber his darken'd throne: The sickly State,
To purge herself of these, heaves, anguish-torn.
Cesar was burden'd with the State-the State with themre.
SAME SUBJECT.
THE sculptur'd Pompey views the assassin's knife,
Uprais'd, to end brave Cesar's glorious life.
The hero's robe, inveterate Casca holds:
The approach of Brutus, treason's depths unfolds.
Then, graceful in extremity, he throws
A mournful glance at one he sadly knows,




POETRY.                    239'Et tu Brute! exclaims, and o'er his face,
Swift draws his robe, and ends life's fitful race.
Th' astQnish'd Senate, shuddering at the deed,
Beheld, in him, their guilty country bleed:
The Effect was slain: the pregnant Cause survived:
Vice stalk'd gigantic, and corruption thriv'd;
A hellish brood, from these, full soon, was seen,
Of horrid aspect, and of triple mien:
The conqueror and the father, rul'd no more;
But ruthless tyrants, drunk with virtue's gore.
Great Julius bore the State, with kindly cares;
But now the State, with pain, the fell triumvirate bears.
PART    OF   FINGAL'S     SPEECH    AFTER    OSCAR'S
DEATH.
How long on Lena shall we weep!
How long our tears green Erin steep I
The mighty dead will not return;
Oscar ne'er leave his mouldering urn:
The day that sees the great and brave,
Beholds them sink into the grave.
0, tell me where our fathers are;
The chiefs of old: 0, warriors, where?
Gone, like bright stars, that once have shone;
Nought, but their fame on earth, is known:
But, in their times, they were renowned;
And men their power, with terror own'd.
Thus, shall we perish in our day:
Then gather laurels while we may.




240                     POETRY.
ON   THE    TRANSIENT      NATURE     OF   THINGS.
How mild is the sky, and how brilliant the sun!
But soon, in this clime, will our journey be done:
Ye oderous flowers, how long will ye blow;
How long, dimpling waters, for us, will ye flow:
Ye trees, that so gracefully wave your green hair,
How long will you nod to the sweet-scented air 
Ah! short is your day:'Tis flitting away:
The moments, your doom
Fast weave in time's loom.
The brightness of youth now illumines your sky;
But that will grow dim, and its colors soon die.
Yours is the sweet morning of life's clouded years;
The flower bedecked way to the valley of tears;
A prelude enchanting, that Nature doth play;
A beautiful scene, that is passing away.
Although, clad in light,
This clime be so fair;
Though Sol glitters bright,
Storm dwells in the air.
Though now, on smooth seas, with mild breezes, we sail,
We know not how soon may be raging the gale:
Fame constantly brings upon every breath,
The tidings of changes, and ruin, and death.
That Jauda, the goddess, who all things foreknew,
Was ne'er known to smile, is not strange, were it true,
Leave not till to-morrow,
Thy task; for in sorrow,
Thy life's setting sun
M:ay see it undone:




POETRY.                   241
For wan-vizag'd sickness, and accidents, bring
Perpetual tribute to Terrol's dread king;
Inflicting alike, on the high and the low,
The good and the evil, the life-killing blow.
Midst jollity's smiles, and the music of mirth,
Throws darkness and sorrows, this tyrant of earth;
Consigns to the tomb,
Sweet beauty, in bloom;
And crushes the just,
And wise. in the dust.
ON   INSTILLING    WISDOM    AND    VIRTUE.
0, THAT the untutor'd mind could know
The exstatic joys, that only blow
In souls illum'd by wisdom's lore!
What keen desire
The eager breast would fire,
To share her precious store!
Upon her lofty heights to mount,
Regardless of the attendant toil;
To drink from her exalting fount,
And reap unfading glories on her soil.
Labor is a pleasure true,
If the heart the toil pursue.
All will joy in labor find,
Of the body, or the mind,
If upon the current strong
Of incentive borne along;
Or ambition's active fire,
Urge the soul to high aspire.
With care, then, train the infant mind,
Till to the good and great inclin'd,
And fill'd with love of noble deeds:
Rouse young desire,
For things the just admire,




242                     POETRY.
Till nature heavenward leads:
Give right direction to the-thought;
Then, under habit's forming sway,
The soul for glorious ends is wrought,*
And moves, with natural grace, up virtue's flowery way.
*VARIATION.
LET wisdom train the infant mind;
Inspire the love of noble deeds;
To lofty aims the spirit bind;
Avert of vice the hateful seeds;
Awake, with art, the young desire
To reach the heights the good admire;
Give just direction to the thought,
Till channels, by its course, are wrought;
Till virtuous habit's constant sway,
As Nature's self, directs the way.
SPRING    AND   WINTER.
MAY will soon return againDreary winter cease to reign;
Vanquish'd by the fiery Sun,
To the polar region run,
Chas'd by Spring, in garment green,
O'er the melted snow between,
Youthful, bright, with joyful air,
Gemm'd with living'flowerets fair!
Distant from the God of Day,
Scowling Wip.ter holds his sway;
Acts the tyrant of the pole,
Scornful of the Sun's control;
Pours the barren freezing blast,
Chaining bounding billows fast,
As, in glassy fragments high,




POETRY.                    243
Breaking towards the sullen sky,
Pile they up the icy store,
On the gloomy Arctic shore.
WHAT    MIGHT BE A STATESMAN'S CONFESSION.
TOWARDS Fame's dome, by steep ascent,
With labor hard, I slowly went;
My speed increas'd, as men could see
Their interests helped, by rise of me.
My party gave me all the praise
Which they, by every mean, could raise.
E'en Hate and Envy, for their weal,
Seem'd lost in fires of friendly zeal.
The sycophantic, proud, and vain,
In short, all power's expectant train,
Assur'd the simpler ones that I
Could save the State-and only I!
Alas I as near the gates I drew,
The temple faded from my view!
What, in the prospect, seemed so fair,
Was only tinted vapory air.
No form, nor beauty could I find;
There, nought remain'd but empty wind.
The world still saw the temple fair;
Still thought me blest, for reaching there!
Nor knew that distance gave the look,
Which they for thing substantial took t
I deemed I had but little done,
And only chaff of glory won;




244                    POETRY.
But hoped to yet deserve the praise
That grows more bright with length of days
Enthron'd in hearts of good and wise;
From whom, alone, true fame can rise:
For puffs of knaves and dunces, cast
An evil influence, while they last:
Their soil yields not the fruit that gives
The food on which high glory lives.
What virtue, and man's interests own,
T his, this, immortal fame shall crown.
TO   THE    SUN.
0 world-illuming orb, whose ceaseless blaze
Showering through ages from thy lofty throne
A gladdening rain of fruitful glories down,
Fills planetary worlds with life and joy.
Still undiminish'd, still thou seem'st the same,
As when man first beheld thy kindly beams.
What bright-eyed orbs, courting thy rays, move round
Thy throne, rejoicing in thy bounty great.
To thee, great king, their ceaseless offerings rise.
When from the purple orient, rosy bright,.
As blushing nature meets thy morning beams,
Fresh from her starry couch, with dewy hair,
All hail thy coming; with desiring eyes
Gaze on thy splendors; and the mountains huge,
Kindling with living radiance, joyful glow,
Each thicket, shady dell, and airy grove
Rinrgs loud with welcome: notes of tuneful birds;
And insect nations gleeful sound thy praise.




POETRY.                     245
Earth, mourns thy absence, in her wintry garb.
At thy return her palsied climes revive,
And beam with youth; new forms of beauty rise;
Extend their hopeful arms to greet thy rays:
The fresh-born leaves of groves on breezy hills;
The opening daisies on the sprouting sward;
The ice-freed rivulets, gleaming, as with joy,
As swift they murmuring flow and kiss their verdant shores;
11 nature ioys in thy paternal smile.








INDEX
TO SOME PARTS OF THE BIOGRAPHY.
Birth...                 3
Compositions.-.                           67
Curative of Consumption-Perspiration —indicated by
night-sweats                                              51
Death...            61
Development of the Artistic Faculty   -              -         17
Dental Operations cause Disease   -       -56
Education                                            -    7 to 15
Letters from S. Genin      -.       -              23 to 53
"      John Trumbull...         34
"'     Thos. H. Genin        -      -.            45'"     Rev. Isaac Ferris -      -       -                62
Obituary, and other Notices       -61-64-67
Paintings-Description of      -     20 to 22 —54 to 56-69 to 73
Some matters on education, page 8, and phthisis, page 58, meant to be inserted as notes, have entered the text, a la Plutarch: And the Description
of Pazntings, is suspended at page 22, and resumed at pages 54 and 69,
as above indicated.




248                INDEX.
SELECTIONS, IN  PROSE.
Apophthegms   ----                   3, 96, 99, 118
Attribute of Strength  -  -  -95
Availability     -  -  --        -109
Admission of Indians into the Ur-ion  -   127
Advice on Addressing a Jury  - -14
Belief may be Consistent with Reason  -   123
Banks of Deposite most Useful, and Safe   129
The Brain an Unit --         -    -       153
Creole Case  -    -                       112
Cliques — 154
Catholics        -      -108
Deeds Confute Words                       108
Flying         -156
Greatness                 -                75
Governments are Effects, of which the People are the
Cause  ---                            141
General Principles-need of their Observance  -147
History         -      -      -            79
Injustice Ruins  -  -       -             101
Knowledge of One, aided by that of Many Things  125
Legislation: Possible Causes of  - - -76
Labor-what Depreciates it                 111
National Defence  -  -— 84
Nature the Art of God  -  -  -  -  -92




INDEX.                 249
Observations -  -.-                       156
Punishments                                  156
Propensity, Have All the same to Good and Evil? -  -99
Public subject to Private Interests  -  -  -  -102
Phrenology insufficient for determining the comparative
Mental Power of two or more Persons -  -  -143
The principle of a Science must be Understood, to Comprehend it  148
Rotation in Office -90
Religion  -                                   96
Self-interest, false views of, deprives Merit of Reward  87
Social the Natural State -89
Slavery Aggressive -  -  -  -                 97
Tariff  --     -  --            -             81
Usury Laws -  -  -                           118
Virtue -               -        —.96
Vital Energy-its Source and Supply -106
Why Wealth has Power  -  -                    99
POETRY.
Atlas    -    --                             201
Apostrophe to the Winds  -  -    -           176
Advance of the Guard at Wagram-from the French  192
Battle  -  -                                 175
Beauty of Nature - -     -                   205
Balance-Addressed to Thurston H. Genin       207
Thurston's Reply -  -                    -   209
Bachelor's Musings  -  -     -               171




250              INDEX.
Changes   -   -    -                  204
Council at the Granicus  - -  -  - -  216
Circumstances alter Appearances  -    228
Csesar Landing in Britain  -          177
Coelebs Consoled     -      -    -    194
Common Soldier  --                    196
Ceesar's Death  - - -..    238
Dream  -    -        -             -  212
Day's Chase of Night  -          -    214
Death-Address to  -  -                215
Day of Judgment  -  -   -        -    221
Days of Childhood -  -  -  -  -171
Death of Samson  -  -            -    212
Fingal on Oscar's Death, versified  -  -  -239
Henriade-Translation  - -   -         203
Home of Beauty            -        -  226
Idleness and Mischief  -  -      -    193
Iliad-Translation  -..           205
Indian Ghosts at Niagara  -  -  -     228
Intelligence and Virtue necessary to Liberty  - -  179
Intention as to Italy  -  -  -  - -   186
Judges XV. paraphrased  -          -  211
Judges should love Justice  -  -164
Labor  -      -..-          220
Love —Power of     -                  235
Many-voiced Commotion -  -  -         217
Mercy  -  -   -    -        -225
Man is governed, as he deserves to be  -  -162
March of Angels  -  -                 175
Morning-Noon-Evening-Night  -      -  179
Mental Influence  -  -.         189




INDEX.              251
Nature's Noble -                        94
Pegassus  -      -             -213
Poetry.- -                  -         237
Pity   -.       173
Peace with Mexico practicable  1- 81
Poet    -   -    -    -                197
Poets-Why honored   -   -.    162
Remedies worse than the Disease  -  -  197
Soul  -        -                       206
Sun-Address to -      -      -   -     244
Stooping to Conquer perhaps excusable -  -  -  182
Statesman's Confession              -  243
Sky-Excursion -  -  -                  165
Slave-Power Invoked  -  -  -        -  169
Storm  -. —                      -    199
The Spouse-Tendency of Nature to Perfection -  -  167
Steamship      -                       231
Seasons  -  -    -    -236
Spring and Winter       -              242
Spartans-Invocation of, at Thermopyla -  -  -  161
The Dead  -           -    -           233
The Transient Nature of Things -   -   240
The Uses of the Past  - -  -      -    168
The Year  -  -                 -    -  178
The Evening Sail  -     -    -    -    183
The Return -  -..                184
Vice its own Punishment  -,,   -    229
Virtue  -   <.                     232
Virgil-Translation of -      -    -     86
What is, may be Best  -        - -     202
Who is This?  -   --                  203
Wind-Ode to  -                         218
Wisdom and Virtue-On instilling them   241




252                         ISDEX.
ENGRAVINGS.
Portrait of S. Genin, Esq.,     -      -       -    Frontispiece
Samson with the Jaw-bone,       (on type metal)             255
Napoleon entering Russia, [page 69] (on copper)               1
The Rescue by Jasper and Newton,      [page 55]               2
Hell,    [page 71]      -       -                             3
Render unto Caesar the things which are
Caesar's,  [page 71]  -                                4
The Death of Caesar,     [see page 55 and 238]                5
The Woman of Monterey,     [page 69]     "                    6
The Landing of Caesar in Britain, [see page 54 and 177]       7
The Battle of Arbela    [page 21]        " 
Death of Samson,     [see page 212]                           9
Napoleon and Gen. Gorgaud, at Brienne   [page 70]            10
Jephthah's Daughter     [page 69]        "                   11
Nestor and Tydides in the Storm, [see page
21 and 205]       -         -     "                   12
The Genins       [see page 54]                               13
The Battle of the Granicus  [page 20]    "                   14
Maigne & Hall, Steam Printersj No. 11 Spruce Street, New-York.












t-0
JS^CWTV^.,~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i SAitde^Wo J_
SAMSON WITH THE JAW'BONE.








fit
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ - -, --—'% —                                  -
I., lim ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   ~    ~    ~   ~   ~   2,,
KOK1  I               -01 NOK               - 
ME  M~    ~     E
-:0   M............              N     -
- - - - - - - - - -
" - " 5~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i~~~~~~~~~i i:~~ ~~ ~~~~~~~~..........
~? "~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~2L~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~......
"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~.......... —-------.................:::~~........ - -: -...  -::::; ~-:.........."'' a l;...........~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~idS'..............................
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~..................                                ------- -............................................................... 
~":: 4~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~-~~~~~~~A  S








Ari  --
Pr, m~~~~;fcz ~ i~l,'
-----------.............*~L~;~L~~16~~; S U:  ~~/
~nR ~eXE E~P~eg~l~~'AA/'-W"':  ~: -:.............. ----....... =-... ——' —/:s  ~ ~~I   i::::::  ~~~~~~s~';'....................
~~~~~~t  ~~~~~~...........:~~:~::                                                      t~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~......
--   -- -- -...........
--------- — ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I;  ~:~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   _:-:...................
M IN N., ------                ----                                 -
-   --------------         W IN...........~8
Ad j stm nts...............................~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~r
-------                     8   M  
--- --- - -
-------- ---  ----- --:~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~:~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~::: ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ --  -----.................~k~: ~
---- -------— ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~:








I~~i  i-   i::i __;-;-::f,,!,.  ji:-:fl-f.D;':i);;,   7,''   -   i:::,:'..'i'nl: i,::.::ii 1:   c.:.:..:'.',:.,   j...~ ~.::,:;1,.,: -~:,I~Ii-~!1~ -.:-lTl   il i,.:-::I-  R   I I:T::f.
Iwil!o,':;, II i!:!. "". ", i'.-,,,,,,,, -.,-,,.,,,77::::::::::.;.~: ~ ~lt::i~,'M::  I.:,Til,
-:j..,.zil;;~~~~~~~:-::,-i.:::::::  i: i.;1M~i`1i.:I-!:::.  -Pv::;::-::~ —.....:ii~ ~ ~  -::,::'.:-::::l-:.:i-:::::i::: i:. -  ~-:: j:: =,:, 11.  ~, ~~,.. ":,":,....:,...~ 1,....:1..11.1M.:.,.',i: I-~~~i   - -  —..-..:
I.,,.!".,..,,";i::::  1:N:;"::.::!;::,:: ~ ~ ~ J,-,!,,":,.',::;,,;   -:".,).-..'. j.-f'  i9,'i..:1"                    il   I ":.   _.. --... ",       ojl,-.. i-;,._".. j,:;7'   ~ i;'.~::..:. -..~  -:,~.~.`   ~;.;'!".S':",,: ii i.:....... I- --.,.,p..   4,.;!,.:,V II  1:W _,`,,..-,,.::  ":1.. 1:i:i:::   _ I:-:,: j;;
I:-::::i:.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~,::.,:.-,.....".I -:::,> - z   I 4:-:: ~:: — -.. I ~ ~ ~,, -.  " ~ -.1..   - ~,:, ~.;:.._:~ ~, ~..-   i~.. ",:,"'~','.'.;,~,!:~,,j:a.I-~ ~~,.~','.:   -~, ~ _, ~~:.:::x,, _,,~i! ~t  ~,~, _.,~i,~,'~,~;;' I  i::
": I  1-,,:W.;=:- I!:-:._- -~~:~'.   _,',.t,.,:::!;Z::.::~X,_I   -.I::.::::. —11:a.-.  -;l.,:7~'i:~.!j,:.'...   ~.... I, _.   II -.1. 1.  ~I   -1 -.-. ~..1.,:i~ i"'I.: 1::!:.,I:,...~I.,.   --,~~,'",~,:~~ 7, -..    ~.I ~ I... ~ ~ I~ _  1 11~~.I-,, ~.~'~::~, _,...-..                -...-.`:;,  I  ~.:" —_~''~-,.-:::~:  ~": —: -!,:.:._  -, ~.,~~, ~   ~   ~~ " i1:..::,%:,   ~ 1.  1~,-~.::-~.`.'~,   I. — -~:_~~!,,.-,:::::  "':,,   Ir
-..I                -   _ -, -:;-'',',7:.. Ii S::,.-    ~~~~~~~ ~~~:,1~~~~~~::-. -,~~~~~~~~~,.~~~~~~,,~~~~.~~~~  -~~~~., ~~~~~~,.'.:~~~~~~~~,_,,",I,_,_.:"-:v,    ", - I.-           --,,,. -.,`:~:,.   _ t   I';':;!;
1.: ~   1   -._  ~, I I..- -" -   _.- -..,"-,::7 —.-.:,,iI i- -:::  -:,,,, -_,.,::,,,,:..,:.  i~";'i   I' j~
I,                            I   I   1.:,:
o:A,   ",~'.~_,:11"                            P..1~~,                   I     ~. - -I     -; 8~~~~~~~~~:~~~.                   ~ i,...   1.,, ~ ~ ~ ~ ~. ~~1:  ~~::: - - I-.-,I.,..~~~, i
1,`~,' s,_~,:"~.,':.: ~_~   -L  —,_   m   -.
~~:~:: I   ~ _,~ ~' ~'  ~-   "   ~~~ ~x~]~:,.,:.,,.,,;-~~-~~,~.,,:_,, ~_~,
~~,,  ~ ~ ~ ~':   _~~~~~.o:~~~~~:~~:~~~ ~~s:. I,.I. -~~~~~~~~~~~~~~. I. ~~~~~~~~~_ —,,~~~~~~~~~~~:~~~~~~  ~~~~::~~~~~.."  __: —~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~~fi.::   ~ - 1,-       11?Ux.;
-. ---.,i i4T  -,I;ii~ 
a~~_,,,;,.,, i 1,
~..: ~ ~ ~, ~ ~ ~,~-_  _   -,.-...-:                                                           "~; ~  --
-.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
- - ~-a..:i;i,, -1..-.: a                                         iI  III-,.
-,::.,' ",:.T~,U;,-,_.'11-I,,_.:.-:,: -   -,..;,.'  -   __:  -. ~_:-I:
-:, -:::-_.i~;~ ri.
~,,:                     ":_ —i!.:," "   "::::",iN.j,.,,",',I.:g  III. —:!i I     1-.i:::~-                                 s~~~~~~~~s~~~~~f.F- 
_::I:,i.1. ~ ~,,. - 4i  ~;.. -,_,::.._ -   -1,   - -11w; ~~,j- 
~. I ~,,,:-,:     4 I     -.:k..1. 1: 1,..F         I-.                               l.,. I.-,
I ~~~q ~~: ~~4  ~~,k  1/1',~ ~~~~"  -:i,  ~ ~ ~~..,,-_,~~~~-_ -—,-,  ~~~~~~~;~ ib i..  " O.~~., W_&, -~:.'~   -,",:~:j,'j  ~~ — -- -:. -. -,..:~ I _.):: g:i,:,   _J!.   i.
I'll..   I I  -'.1.1....,   U' l''   I,.,,,~i~j  i   ~
I   -. I~~         - -::,:, -~~  I;  i.i:~ "~..~.~::.,::::,: — -,,  w.., _11w~~~~~,.,...,.,   -- -. —1I —~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_~~"ZZ
~~~, WIM,,.    I~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~,~~~~~Ai~








- -'-,-, ----               —: —----:~ ~    ~.)..K
-  ---   ---  --  ---  - --   --  -- -\  --- 
-   -   -   -   -   -   -   ---— K      ~      K
~~~~;4~~~~~~~~~i~~~~~~~v>'i!"i"  *~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~> ~~~~~~~~~~~ZK$K~~~~~~~~~~~~j~~~~~~iI  \.  K>'~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~K~~~~~K ---'I --- 
- ------
KY.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  ---
-   - - -- - - - -X             > - -~
K~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'<Y~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~K  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ —- 
-K  - \ --  \\ — — K- - - - - - - - - - - -K-'K7/K4K                                         \K  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ — ---- 
KK  \K~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'  K  \ ~~ —---- ---- 
\  K~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~7J~~~~~~~~~~~<K ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~  ---- 
- - - - - - - - - -  - - - - - - 
/ ~~~i'~~< ~~K \'KK'UKKK  K  K\  "~~~~~~A.'
/"' ~~~~~~~~~~~  ~ ~ ~ ~        K  K>~~~~~~~~~~~~\ >~~~~~~~~KY.~~~~~~~~~<K  ~~~~~~~~K-entaKa'~KU~ 
~~v#~~K<~~~7%~~ ~~q~~~K>KK~~
74~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~K
Rik, ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  ~   ~    ~   ~    ~   ~   ~   ~   ~~,AK:7W ~ ~   ~    ~    77'~7< 
s7K~ 
~~'<~~ KY ~~~            "~~ N'fo~ ~ ~   ~   __ 41it ~                ____________
Vb-ik  7/K                     -"zttw  iw /  tatac  as








~~ —----------— ~~ —------- ~   ----- --  ----- ---  -------— ~ —---------  ~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ —------------!"E~~~~~=-~~~~ ~ —-------
--— ~~~~~~~~3S5 —~~~~~~~~~-Tri-C —i ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~       ~        ------- ---
i~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~:iM ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~~~~~~I








VO   H,  1.       -,         -      -  
IVa,,:   i*.a
\\XX~ ~ ~~~~~~T            TiJiT
__                         --  - - -                                                  _ _ _ _ _ _ —.-,,, —.-.,  -iT~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ —----------.... 








-~~~~~~~~~~~~~ —-— ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ - ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   J
vgu~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TL' <7., 1AY 
I).R~               ~2  ~2.l       ~>    -  ~  AWi~~&7                      Lj7.,_~K'AP 
V 6                                 __~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~4
-  ~  K —.~~ —______  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~7-7~~~~~~~~~7  ~~~~~~~~~U
________  I>.,.,.            _ ____ ____         __       ____ _________         __~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~5








---- ----------...............
---   -- -   --------------------......... 
------------.........................................................I............ --   -  I I   - .. I -.  I..........................         rowqlv   rm- -   - p  w.                                              -   -----------   -----   ----                                  -   ------------ 
---------    ---   --  ------                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 -........   --- --------..............      - ---
------------------                                                                                                                                                       ---------..................................... 
- - - - - -   - - - - -................. - - - - - - - - -......  - - - - -   - -  - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- -   - - - - - - - - - -..................................................................... 
- - - - - - - - -   - -   - -  - -   - - - -..............                                                                                                                                                                   --- - - - - - - - - - -
- -  - -  -  - -....................                                                                   - - - - - -  -  -...........................................r -.;;-. -. -. -.- r  r- w- v w  t -        i..............           -   - - - - -.................
- - - - - - - - - - - - - I- - ----                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 ...
- - - - - - - -   -   - - -..............                                                                                                                                                r. w  T.,-F,  r
-- - - - - -- ----- -  I "'  -  -  -.:  -    -, ,......1 -. I......-I I   T.                                                                 -    _- - _ —.-: :-_-_ -  - _-_   - - :::  - - - 7  7
-- - - -..................................................... 
rr;I;;:.w,:     I....   1. ,  -I II IIIIII I II III I  I  I   I          I,,,....................................................                              W, w r ..................................................... 
- -   - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -                                                                                                                                          - - -.........
- - - - - - - - -   - - - -......................
- - - - - -  - - - -                                                                                                                                                                     - - - - - -   -
m r W,4  r 7 r w                                                                                                                                                  -  -  - -  -   -  - -  -   -.............................
- - -  - - -  - -  -.................                                  -7   7               77  i  Z  7,-,--                        -   - -   - - - - -.................................. 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -.................  - - - - -   - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   - - - - - - - - -   -   -..............................:: ............................................................................................................................ o,,.. w....  w .  ........................................................................................................ -  -   -  -  - -   -  -   -..................                                          - - - - - -   - -  - - - - -        -  - - - - - - -  - - - - -.......................................:..   I.     -    -- I I - -.
-...                                           - - - - -   - -..........                                                                                                                                                                 - - - - - - -  
- -   - -   -  - -  - - - -   -...................................................
i A...........................................  - - - - - -  - - -  - - - -  - 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -                                                            - - - -   -  - - - - -   -- - -   - -   - -.................. 
7w-w...........................................................................................W,.........,  -  w  4 , o  :::,.,... 
-, -.,..1,,,.,...     I  I  I      I.      I -..I.....,....,,,,,        -.I  I I..  I......                                                                        -   -  - - - -  - 
--   -----..........................                                            Z 74 -   -----
-- - - - - --- -............................
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -...................... . -  ---        = - 1-, -=-                                                                                                                                                                                                          I        -1                                         I....................................................................................................................................
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -..........................................................
- - -  -  - -  - - - -  - - -  - -  - - - - -..............
- - - - - - - - - - -.......................  --------------------------....................                                              -  -  -   -   -  -
--------------    --.....................................
- - -  - -  - - -  -   -   -........................................................
M!.............
0,.........................................
q..................................
zZ
X.......
-Y
I'M        1:1
Pg- g
Y N.
7-rjrj I Tj............. --
mlw
Gillette
ak
x
MI i
ffil
4 W11
N
M MV,
N F-11. —,-':.,
PO                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       Ever
-)JIMMY,:
om
-N, 44;,
MIN w4m.
0,5
zl
MN-, eir
ability
a
A
N
N
IVS17          P7-'tX7-"








- - - - -.....
- -----—. —........ —--
~-  — I-;~ —--  -  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ---- ----:~,~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~P
_ _ _ _ _ _ _   - - - - -u.1~''/%"'H   
--------......7!A ~ >~..                H
7,7/  /:~p'li~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Bri
CNI~~~~~~~~I
~~1 <7",;             A.HH~
SW'.H,/j77        "i"  7   -""H              -   HH
- - - - - - - - - - - - -                                      - - - - - - - - - - -I








-.::-::::::; t::..:...,,A......::.::  i:/::::':::.i:li::ir: I~:::;::.::::li  ~i)::'':':::':::::::i::::::-: ~:l::'':::-::::.:::::::: T::::::::::::.: f:: "::!::z'':::   -:::  s:::'.')
Li  71:': 17%  Vi') AYK ->''7     1'1 1:'1''7' "  f:: -':11   17111.-  71111 r1tVK1  11  ii:t:i1 -1:.""111...
g~~~
4' ~  ~     4:::::~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~~~~~~':';':,"''-'':i~;'::~:~'; -:': - 09":' "' D'X'''':  t"'. f'T''X -:~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.::::-.:::- -:- i:~: -:i -,f. t~: -:i~ii~_iY:~  _~:..C,:::I,&
~'i:~~~~~~~~i!~,,: - - -;:.::..',: 7.-Sv-: -;::>::: 1,~  *! 1411: —.-./f::::~~~~~~ ~ ~ ~ ~~,'':.::. ~: ~::.':''.'...'   -—:-::   j 3::/.:::::.:;~~I:.:::.:i 1!:0:: k/,"o4:1~ ~~x~~,  n         i  E                             S
7...i~ ~;~                                                                      6'~ 
~..                            t 
- <~=:~2  s  ax   A               <;  t,,
<E'SY'h\.A








-0 1    ---- ~ IN..............L L ~
-i s   I   N O,                          ~ ~~............1 H ~ (..''\ ~.  
N,~~~~~~~~~~~ 








!   v..  i   i:
l~~i~,,~..',~.::~'  ~  ~~~~,~ij  j. ~,~ j,. ~~i~~~..~.:!.~t~:~.~               i.
~!~'~'~....~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i
~'~'~ ~F ~~"~'"~~~~.~~~~,~~ ~  ~ i'i








_   0 1.
BORN7E~    ~.4,:.:.7.~..7    ji'.;.*i~            ~. 42~                     4.1~~' ~ ~'' ~      ~             < ~ & 7.< —-— 7 ----  --------;E77= -MEM
---   ------— 7      <   7
- 7 -----                                                                                              --— __ _ _ _ _
_______________________  — ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ —= = 7~~~~~~~~~~~~, —--------..........~~7            1 fl ~1K'1Q JJ1L  I~ J2L 77-  1 11 7iit7 
























';;....................~ ~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~,............
>422     f' 2.'~~~~~!~~~~C~2c3S-lj~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'CnrF- ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~............................................................~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%......................
-=~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~......
l~~~~r::';~:~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~1:8:.:j;.~::::-:~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.:::~~~~~~~~~:~~~~:..........