Dr. Philip Oraif C ^^-e>t/ *t^y^ <?<-~ cL^Xe- X* 6i^( OFF-HAID TAKINGS; OR, CRAYON SKETCHES OF THE NOTICEABLE MEN OF OUR AGE. BT GEORGE W. BUNGAY. \\ fottfe Qffotnta portraits on Stttl, THIRD EDITION". NEW YORK: ROBT. M. DE WITT, PUBLISHER, 160 & 162 NASSAU STREET. E T VT^ W orMV. ESTEHBD according to Act of Congress, in the year 1854, by DE WITT A DAVENPORT, In the Clerk s Office of the District Counter the Southern District of New York W. H. TINSOX, ALEXANDER 4 STORM, AND STEREOTYPE*, BOOKBISDKW ,, >t Beckman Street. i Spruce Strej CONTENTS. Daniel Webster 9 Henry Clay 20 Edwin H. Chapin (ivith portrait) 28 John Charles Fremont 37 Geo. P. Morris and N. P. Willis 43 William H. Seward (with portrait) 52 Edward Everett (with portrait) 59 John P. Hale (with, portrait) 72 Father Taylor 79 John C. Calhoun 82 Lewis Cass 92 Charles C. Burleigh 101 Henry Ward Beecher (with portrait) 104 Abbott Lawrence 116 Ralph Waldo Emerson 119 John Van Buren (with portrait) 127 John Greenleaf Whittier 132 Washington Irving 141 G. W. Bethune 147 E. P. Whipple 156 G. C. llebbe (with portrait) 162 Rufus Choate 167 Horace Mann 175 Dr. Boardman 182 Solon Robinson (with portrait) 186 John Ross Dix 190 P. T. Barnum (wiffi portrait) 199 Dr. E.Kane 205 Nathaniel Hawthorne 210 Samuel F. B. Morse 214 Geo. W.Kendall 218 Samuel Houston (with portrait) 219 Pierre Soule 228 W. Thackeray 224 741961 CONTENTS. IV Page John Pierpont 229 Horace Greeley (with portrait) 237 Moses Grant 245 George N. Briggs 249 Theodore Parker 253 Seal Vow (wUhportrait) 263 Philip S. White 261 Charles Sumner 218 Ogden Hoffman (with portrait) 2S-4 E. L. Snow 286 Thomas Francis Meagher 288 Wendell Phillips 292 Elihu Burritt 801 William Cullen Bryant (with portrait) 309 Daniel S. Dickinson 316 General Winfield Scott 323 William R. Stacy 327 Gerrit Smith (with portrait) 330 Edward Beecher 341 Thos. HartBenton (with portrait) 345 William L. Marcy 346 Alfred Bunn 347 Peter Cartwright 351 Anson Burlingame 355 George Law (with portrait) 863 Dr. J. W. Francis 364 Dr. S. H. Cox 365 Freeman Hunt 868 B. P. Shillaber 872 Bishop James 877 Rev. Mr. Wadsworth 378 Rev. Dr. Durbin : 382 S. A. Douglas (wWi portrait) 883 W. Gilmore Simms 886 James Gordon Bennett 389 Caleb Cushing 390 James Watson Webb 391 Dr. Duffield 392 J. R. Lowell 394 JohuMitchel (with portrait) 400 PREFACE. THERE is, at least so it seems to us, very little need of a Preface to such a book as this ; yet, as the public seems to think that the old custom of providing one should be kept up, and as our friend, the Author of these " CRAYON SKETCHES," has asked us to furnish one, we do not see how we can refuse to stand, as it were, at the door of his picture gallery, for the purpose of furnishing all who may enter with a synopsis of what is to be seen within. And, having seen and examined the portraits themselves, we can, in all sin cerity, testify to their faithfulness and artistic merits. It is not, by any means, the easiest thing in the world to sketch portraits in pen-and-ink, so as to con vey to the reader s mind accurate and life-like impres sions of the originals. Different people observe objects from such various points of view, that what to one might appear a satisfactory resemblance, would seem VI PREFACE. to another a mere caricature. Now to meet this diffi culty it is requisite that the sketcher should possess such an intimate knowledge of the man he seeks to portray as will enable him to seize upon those broad features of character which are observable by all, and to dispose of those peculiarities that are perceivable by but the few. These qualifications we believe MR BUNGAY to possess in an eminent degree, and do not doubt that the reader will entertain the same opinior when he shall have read through this volume. All personal gossip is interesting. Although the matter may at first glance seem trivial, we, all of us. like to know something of the men whom we hear talked of every day, and whose works have either de lighted or instructed us. How they dressed, talked, or amused themselves ; what they loved to eat and drink, and how they looked when their bows were un bent. It is this sort of gossip that makes BoswelFs Life of Johnson one of the most delightful works in our language ; and such petty details, though the " high art " biographer may deem them of but little value, constitute a charm which the most elaborate expositions of mental characteristics would fail to secure. PREFACE. VI. But let it not be thought that in the following por traits mental traits are lost sight of. On the contrary, our Anther has a keen eye for detecting such, and a ready pen to record them. A poet himself, and a true one, as the world will before long know, if it knows it not already, he is well able to detect and prize the poetic faculty in others ; and his general knowledge of most subjects enables him to seize upon the prominent features in the politician, the philosopher, the orator, the merchant, or the journalist. In these " Takings " we think he has been singularly successful ; and if in some instances he has been hurried, by an enthusiastic temperament, into over-coloring, the fault may be easily excused, for where is the painter who does not now and then overstep the " modesty of nature," and produce effects which, though they existed in his prolific imagination, are not set down in the strict rules of art ? To American readers this Gallery of Portraits of some of their most illustrious men will be of great and abiding interest. Of course there are many others whom the Author might have sketched, but what single volume could have contained all 1 Should, however, this book be received with favor and we do not in the Vlll PREFACE. least doubt it, a second and a third series may appear Of such, however, it is premature to speak at present, and we therefore rest content with introducing this volume to the American reader. J. R.D. Boston, Mass., June, 1854 .: OFF-HAND ,. OR, CRAYON SKETCHES DANIEL WEBSTER. AMERICA is the greatest continent, and embraces within its limits the grandest mountains, the broadest lakes, the longest rivers, the largest prairies, and, with all these, the mightiest intellect. Its mountains stand up like pillars supporting the azure arch in the temple of nature ; its lakes are inland seas ; its rivers could swallow the waters of Europe without over flowing their banks; and its mind is correlative with the magnificence of its scenery. There is but one Niagara, and that is in America ; there is but one Webster, and he is in America, The cataract flows now, as it did when God first smote the rock in this Western wilderness, and He has woven a rainbow about its silver forehead, and crowned it wi-th a fountain of diamonds. It shouts the same song of liberty it did when the world was in its infancy. It is free and mighty, and cannot be hushed into silence, nor flattered into subserviency. So with Webster, when he lifts up his 10 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND for freedom, it is like "deep calling unto deep;" and the light of B-aaven Illuminates his magnetic eyes and beams on his n-iighty -forehead. Geologists have discovered the colossal bones of the Mas todon, and hence we infer that there were larger animals in ages gone by, than we have living at present ; so, future his torians will find, in their mutilated and mouldy libraries, the remains of Webster s greatness. In the glory of his man hood he represented Massachusetts ; defended liberty ; sympa thized with humanity, and won the approbation of all good men. In the arena of debate he usually came off more than conqueror. He was regarded as the senator of the United States. When he rose in his place, in the council chamber of the nation, with a voice of thunder and eyes on fire, every face was turned towards him, every tongue was silent, for he was clad to the teeth in armor, had a spear like a weaver s beam, and had been trained to battle. He has great self-pos session, coolness, adroitness, and tact ; never was remarkable for sunshiny gaiety of imagination ; rarely strayed to select bright flowers in the garden of literature ; his attempts at wit were like the antics of the elephant that tried to mimic the lap-dog ; but he was emphatically great. He was the Defender of the Constitution, and could present arguments in its defence with irresistible force and eloquence. His words were full of marrow, his logic unctuous with fatness. He defeated his opponents, not by the " delicacy of his tact, but by the prodigious power of his reason." There "was no honeyed paste of poetic diction " encrusting his speeches, " iika OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 11 the candied coat of the auricula," but there was tremendoui weight in his arguments. Webster, in earlier days, was sublime as Chatham, classi cal as Burke, terse as Macintosh, forcible as Tully. Endowed by nature, with a noble and commanding person, he never failed to attract attention. When excited in debate, his granite face glowed with intellect; "the terrors of his beak, the lightnings of his eye, were insufferable." He was the king of the Senate, for nature had stamped him with the unmistakable mark of sovereignty, regardless of the republi canism of his country. There was grace in his gesture, dig nity in his deportment, and humanity as well as patriotism in his speeches. His voice was rich, full, and clear ; now thril ling like the blast of a trumpet, now intimidating by tho awful solemnity of its tone, now animating by its soul-stirring notes. Abroad, he was the lion of London, his noble -exterior making him "a man of mark." He has coal-black hair, (now thickly sprinkled with grey,) a lofty brow, " the forge of thought;" magnificent eyes; an ample chest; a patrician hand; a face broad and dark as some of the fugitives he would return to bondage. See him in the zenith of his man hood, standing on the battle-ground at Bunker Hill, with kingly dignity, uttering sentiments that will be fresh in the memories of millions, when the shaft of granite now standing there shall have crumbled to dust ! Apparently as impregna ble as the granite hills of his own New Hampshire, who sup posed that he, so great and gifted, towering above ordinary men, was as the mountain which wraps the cloud-cloak about 12 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND its shoulders, while a vest of eternal snow keeps the sunshine for ever from its heart ! The mountain is great, sublime, and lofty, but cold, barren, and unapproachable ; it points towards Heaven, but remains fixed to earth. Daniel Webster has accomplished noble feats, for which he merits the gratitude of good men. Since the days of Washington, there has been no man so well qualified, in many points, for the presidency, as he. His impatience and irritability, in consequence of his disappointment, have been frequently exhibited. As a last resort, he tried to conciliate the South at the expense of the North. As a public speaker, he seldom enlivens his arguments with the flashes of wit, but he has said some keen things, which have become as common as " household words." At a public meeting, a young aspi rant for poetical and political honors attempted to drink a toast to the honor of the immortal John Q. Adams, who was present. " Mr. Adams," said the toaster, " may he perplex his enemies as " here the speaker hesitated, and Webster thundered out, " as he has his friends." Foote made a fulsome speech in praise of Mr. Webster, at one time, in the senate, but the " god-like " cut him short by shouting, " Git eout" The yankee twang he gave the sentence convulsed the senate with irrepressible laughter. For superior specimens of pure style, lofty reasoning, and eloquent declamation, read Mr. Webster s arguments before the Supreme Court, his speeches delivered in Faneuil Hall, his best efforts in the senate chamber, his unstudied responses at public dinners and conventions, his lectures before the OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 13 lyceums, his remarks on the great political and constitutional questions of the past and present times. Indeed, all are familiar with these efforts of a master mind. The profes sional skill and the parliamentary talent of Mr. Webster are appreciated on both sides of the Atlantic. He has contended with the ablest intellects, stout competitors, keen opponents, and always came off with flying colors, when he was in the right. Even his rivals give him the credit of being the mos, forcible debater in America. At the age of thirty he appeared in the Congress of 1812, and Mr. Lovvndes then said of him, that the North had not his equal, nor the South his superior. That he has been a sagacious statesman, a skillful diplomatist, a profound investi gator, and the greatest thinker in America, is the opinion of millions of his countrymen. Never was the English language more eloquently employed than in Webster s magnificent speech, in reply to Haynes. Hear him : " And now, sir, I repeat, how is it that a state legislature acquires any right to interfere ? Who, or what, gives them the right to say to the people, We, who are your agents and servants for one purpose, will undertake to decide that your other agents and servants, appointed by you for another pur pose, have transcended the authority you gave them ? The reply would be, I think, not impertinent, Who made you a judge over another s servants ? To their own masters they stand or fall. " Sir, I deny this power of state legislatures altogether. It 14 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND cannot stand the test of examination. Gentlemen may say that, in an extreme case, a state government might protect themselves, without the aid of the state governments. Such a case warrants revolution. It must make, when it conies, a law for itself. A nullifying act of a state legislature cannot alter the case, nor make resistance any more lawful. In maintaining these sentiments, sir, I am but asserting the right of the people. I state what they have declared, and insist on their right to declare it. They have chosen to repose this power in the General Government, and I think it my duty to support it, like other constitutional powers. " For myself, sir, I doubt the jurisdiction of South Carolina, or any other state, to prescribe my constitutional duty, or to settle, between me and the people, the validity of laws of Con gress for which I have voted. I decline her umpirage. I have not sworn to support the Constitution according to her construction of its clauses. I have not stipulated, by my oath of office or otherwise, to come under any responsibility, except to the people, and those whom they have appointed to pass upon the question, whether the laws, supported by my votes, conform to the Constitution of the country. And, sir, if we look to the general nature of the case, could anything have been more preposterous than to have made a government for the whole Union, and yet left its powers subject, not to one interpretation, but to thirteen or twenty-four interpreta tions ? Instead of one tribunal established by all, responsi ble to all, with power to decide for all shall constitutional questions be left to four and twenty popular bodies, each at OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 15 liberty to decide for itself, and none bound to respect tho decisions of others ; and each at liberty, too, to give a new construction, on every new election of its own members ? Would anything, with such a principle in it, or rather with such a destitution of all principle, be fit to be called a govern ment ? No, sir. It should not be denominated a Constitu tion. It should be called, rather, a collection of topics for everlasting controversy; heads of debate for a disputatious people. It would not be a government. It would not be adequate to any practical good, nor fit for any country to live under. To avoid all possibility of being misunderstood, allow me to repeat again, in the fullest manner, that I claim no powers for the government, by forced or unfair construc tion. 1 admit that it is a government of strictly limited powers ; of enumerated, specified, and particularized powers ; and that whatsoever is not granted is withheld. But, not withstanding all this, and however the grant of powers may be expressed, its limits and extent may yet, in some cases, admit of doubt ; and the General Government would be good for nothing, it would be incapable of long existence, if some mode had not been provided in which those doubts, as they should arise, might be peaceably, but authoritatively, solved. " And now, Mr. President, let me run the honorable gentle man s doctrine a little into its practical application. Let us look at his probable modus operandi. If a thing can be done, an ingenious man can tell how it is to be done. Now, I wish to be informed how this state interference is to be put in prac tice. We will take the existing case of the tariff law. South 16 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Carolina is said to have made up her opinion upcn it. If we do not repeal it (as we probably shall not), she will then apply to the case the remedy of her doctrine. She will, we must suppose, pass a law of her legislature, declaring the several acts of Congress, usually called the tariff laws, null and void, so far as they respect South Carolina, or the citizens thereof. So far, all is a paper transaction, and easy enough. But the collector at Charleston is collecting the duties imposed by these tariff laws he, therefore, must be stopped. The collector will seize the goods if the tariff duties are not paid. The state authorities will undertake their rescue : the marshal, with his posse, will come to the collector s aid ; and here the contest begins. The militia of the state will be called out to sustain the nullifying act. They will march, sir, under a very gallant leader ; for I believe the honorable member himself commands the militia of that part of the state. He will raise the NULLIFYING ACT on his standard, and spread it out as his banner. It will have a preamble, bearing that the tariff laws are palpable, deliberate, and dangerous violations of the Con stitution. He will proceed, with his banner flying, to the cus tom house in Charleston, all the while Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds. Arrived at the custom house, he will tell the collector that he must collect no more duties under any of the tariff laws. This he will be somewhat puzzled to say, by the way, with a grave countenance, considering what hand South Carolina herself OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 17 had in that of 1816. But, sir, the collector would, probably, not desist at his bidding. Here would ensue a pause ; for they say, that a certain stillness precedes the tempest. Before this military array should fall on the custom house, collector, clerks, and all, it is very probable some of those composing it would request of their gallant commander-in-chief to be in formed a little upon the point of law ; for they have doubtless a just respect for his opinions as a lawyer, as well as for his bravery as a soldier. They know he has read Blackstone and the Constitution, as well as Turenne and Vauban. They would ask him, therefore, something concerning their rights in this matter. They would inquire whether it was not somewhat dangerous to resist a law of the United States. What would be the nature of their offence, they would wish to learn, if they, by military force and array, resisted the execution in Carolina of a law of the United States, and it should turn out, after all, that the law was constitutional. He would answer, of course, treason. No lawyer could give any other answer. John Fries, he would tell them, had learned that some years ago. How, then, they would ask, do you propose to defend us ? * We are not afraid of bullets, but treason has a way of taking people off that we do not much relish. How do you propose to defend us? 7 Look at my floating banner, he would reply ; see there the nullifying law / It is your opinion, gallant commander, they would then say, that if WQ should be indicted for treason, that same floating banner of yours would mafce a good plea in bar ? South Carolina is a sovereign state, he would reply. That is true ; but would the 18 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND judge admit our plea ? * These tariff laws, he would repeat are unconstitutional. ********* " That Union we reached only by the discipline of oui virtues in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin in the necessities of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Under its benign influence, these great interests immediately awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of life. Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility and its blessings ; and although our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population spread farther and farther, they have not outran its protection or its benefits. It has been to us all a copious fountain of national, social, personal happiness. I have not allowed my^ self, sir, to look beyond the Union, to see what might lie hidden in the dark recesses behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving liberty, when the bonds that unite us together shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss below ; nor could I regard him as a safe counsellor in the affairs of this government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how the Union should be best pre served, but how tolerable might be the condition of the people when it shall be broken up and destroyed. While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day at least, tha OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 19 curtain may not rise. God grant that on my vision never may be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once-glorious Union ; on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather, behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high ad vanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, What is all this worth ? nor those other words of delusion and folly, Liberty first, and Union afterwards ; but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart Liberty and Union, now and for ever, one and inseparable !" 2fot#. It is is scarcely necessary to state, that the above sketch was written prior to the decease of the great statesman to whom it refers. AUTHOB. 20 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND HENRY CLAY. EVERY American citizen, who has arrived at years of discretion, must be familiar with the remarkable history of Henry Clay. What man figured more conspicuously in Con gress than he did during his terms of service there ? Who exerted such a magnetic and potent influence over the Whig party ? Where in this country could be found his equal for impassioned eloquence ? Who understood better than he did the modern history of the diplomacy of nations ? He was a man of extraordinary endowments, courteous, brave, generous, and urbane, and yet opinionative, arbitrary, and dogmatical. It is said, that on a certain occasion, while Rufus Choate war a member of the United States Senate, the imperious Kentuc- kian made the Massachusetts orator shrink to his seat, in the midst of a speech, by simply shaking his finger at him. What a sight ! Rufus Choate struck dumb by the pantomime :>f Henry Clay. As a statesman he had great forecast, save vhen he permitted himself to become a candidate for the ^residency ; then he unwisely hampered himself with answers io the impertinent inquiries of the little great men which flash like fire-flies when the stars are shining. Had he been a Northern man, with a New England educa tion, he would have been a bolder and braver herald of freedom, and he would have discountenanced those who have OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 21 botrayed liberty in the house of its professed friends for lesg than thirty pieces of silver; renegades who have crucified humanity by driving in the rusty nails of cruel enactments and putting on the crown of bitter shame. He, however, was a wise statesman and a magnificent gentleman. " Peace to his ashes." Having no desire whatever to dwell on that unpleasant side of the medal, I turn to a theme in which the general reader will take a deeper interest. Henry Clay had a well balanced temperament, combining vast powers of origination with great force and activity. Indolence was punishment to him. Mr. Fowler, the justly celebrated phrenologist, speaking of him, says, " He also had great elasticity of constitution ; could endure almost anything." He was tall full six feet in his stockings, I should think stood erect as the towering pines on the sandy hills of his native state, had a capacious chest, sandy complexion, florid countenance, wide, sensual mouth, starry eyes, and a magnificent forehead. He looked the patrician. Even strangers knew at a glance that he was no ordinary person. Nature had put a mark of distinction upon him, and pedestrians would stop in the road and look back after him. When he smiled, the infection charmed the circle on which his countenance shone. When he spoke, he had the entire nation for his audience. When he made an effort, there was a vibration throughout the Confederacy. That he was an ambitious man, and desired most ardently to be ele vated to the highest post of honor his country could offer him, will not be disputed by those who are competent to 22 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND appreciate his speeches and his sentiments. He was born to be a leader, and he did lead, and sometimes drive. He drova his cruel omnibus into the Senate, and would have hac scythes upon its wheels, if Benton had not knocked them off with his battering-ram. Mr. Clay was noted for his hospitality and great-hearted generosity. He was fond of the approbation of his fellow- men, and would often put himself to inconvenience to accom modate those even, who could render no return but gratitude for his magnanimity. Not at all inclined to believe in the wonderful and marvelous, and not being overstocked with veneration for religious rites and ceremonies, he was in his earlier days regarded as a dashing, brilliant, reckless, gifted, and graceless young man, with lofty anticipations that would never be realized. It is quite evident he expected notoriety, honor, and distinction, and his career proves that he did not over-estimate his abilities, while it furnishes positive evidence that his expectations were not often disappointed. Although a popular man, who moved the masses and even the sympa thies of the poor as well as the rich while he was naturally aristocratic and exclusive, and wished all to ke-ap at a respectful distance from him he was accessible and sociable when approached through proper mediums. No one at all acquainted with him could fail to notice his unfaltering firm ness and unyielding perseverance. Whatever project he undertook was pursued with volcanic vigor until it was accom plished. He was cautious, without being timid resolute, but not rash firm, but not obstinate. He could mature his plans OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 23 in his own mind, and keep them shut up there until the time came for their development ; hence he was a sage politician a smart tactician. He was a warm friend, and a cold, dig nified enemy ; an affectionate husband (when addressing a large audience of beautiful ladies, a short time previous to his decease, he told them they were very handsome, but there was an old lady in Ashland, he loved more than he loved them), a tender father (there can be no doubt that the death of his son, on the Mexican battle-field, cut him to the heart, and hastened him to the grave, by irritating the disease to which he was predisposed),^nd an appreciating teacher (he edu cated the eminent scholar and distinguished orator, Bascom). He had more courage than cruelty, and would defend him self when assailed with a degree of patriotic pluck which was a caution to the invader. The love of money was not remarkable in him. It is my impression that he left only a moderate competency behind him. In his younger days, he occasionally indulged in games of chance, not for the profit but for the excitement of the game. Gambling, however, is always reprehensible, and no excuse can whitewash it into innocent amusement. After all, it was his mind that made him such an attractive man. He was fond of the sublime and beautiful, had a nice discriminating taste, hence his lan guage and his illustrations were chaste and elegant, and he became the most eloquent expounder of the principles of his party. The magazines are filled with specimens of his glow ing imagery and subtle reasoning. It was, indeed, a rich treat to look up at his stalwart form and listen to the deep 24 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND notes that pealed from his organ-chest, until the senate chamber rang with the mighty magic of his unapproachable eloquence. He had not the massive grandeur of Webster, but he was more acute in his argument, and had a more gracious manner of delivery. He did not display the scholarship of Benton, but he had a richer fancy and more declamatory power, and far exceeded him. in matters of diplo macy. Without the calmness of Cass, he always commanded more attention in Congress than the great giant of Michigan. Perhaps he may be called, the Canning of America; although his style is peculiar to* himself, there is the same fascinating finish the same mingling of pathos and poetry, argument and invective. He was rapid, forcible, brilliant, piercing. His wit was always refined as attic salt, his humor perfectly irresistible, though seldom indulged, his invective as rankling as the bite of an adder. Now he sounded the deep sea of passion then he soared to the sky of fancy. Ho would have shone in Parliament with such men as Pitt, Fox, Burke, and Sheridan. His mind was not like the eye of Cyclops, " letting in a flood of rushing and furious splendor," but a Drummond light, illuminating without impairing what it shone upon. His let ters are lucid, terse, fluent, courteous, classical, with the heart of their author throbbing in them. His collected speeches form volumes of American eloquence, which should be found in every well-appointed library in our land. The last speeches he made breathe the same youthful vigcr of his earlier efforts, and the reader never thinks that the speaker was OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 25 a venerable white-haired man ; indeed, his heart never became grey. If the Congress of the United States may be called an aviary of birds of prey, he was the eagle in that aviary ; if it may be termed a menagerie, he was the lion of that menagerie. It is to be deeply deplored that such a man was a slaveholder, that he lived and died a defender of slavery ; that he c\er countenanced in any way the cruel code of honor which demands a man to make a martyr of himself to " preserve his honor unsullied." I here annex a specimen of the style of Mr. Clay s oratory : Hon. Henry Clay s appeal in behalf of Greece. " Mr. Chairman : There is reason to apprehend that a tre mendous storm is ready to burst upon our unhappy country one which may call into action all our vigor, courage, and resources. Is it wise or prudent, then, sir, in preparing to breast the storm, if it must come, to talk to this nation of its mcompetency to repel European aggression, to lower its spirit, to weaken its moral energy, and to qualify it for easy conquest, and base submission ! If there be any reality in the dangers which are supposed to encompass us, should we not animate the people and adjure them to believe, as I do, that our re sources are ample, and that we can bring into the field a million of freemen ready to expend their last drop of blood, and to spend their last cent in the defence of their country, its liberty and its institutions ? " Sir, are we, if united, to be conquered by all Europe com- b\i*eci ? No, sir, no united nation that resolves to be free can 2 26 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND be conquered. And has it come to this ? Are we so humble, so low, so debased, that we dare not express our sympathy for suffering Greece ; that we dare not articulate our detestation of the brutal exercise of which she has been the bleeding vic tim, lest we might offend one or more of their imperial and royal majesties ? Are we so mean, so base, so despicable, that we may not attempt to express our horror, utter our indigna tion at the most brutal and atrocious war that ever stained earth or shocked high heaven ; at the ferocious deeds of a savage and infuriated soldiery, stimulated and urged on by the clergy of a fanatical and inimical religion, and rioting in all the excesses of blood and butchery, at the mere details of which the heart sickens and recoils ? " But, sir, it is not for Greece alone that I desire to see the measure adopted, it will give her but little support, and that purely of a moral kind. It is principally for America for the credit and character of our common country, for our own un sullied name, that I hope to see it pass. What appearance, Mr. Chairman, on the page of history, would a record like this exhibit ? * In the month of January, in the year of our Lord and Saviour 1824, while all European Christendom beheld with cold and unfeeling indifference, the unexampled wrongs and inexpressible misery of Christian Greece, a proposition was made in the Congress of the United States, almost the sole, the last, the greatest depository cf human hope and freedom, the representatives of a gallant nation, containing a million of freemen ready to fly to arms, while the people of that nation were spontaneously expressing its deep-toned feeling, and the OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 21 whole continent, by one simultaneous emotion, was rising and solemnly and anxiously supplicating and invoking high heaven to spare and succor Greece, and to invigorate her arms, in her glorious cause ; while temples and senate-houses were alike resounding with one burst of generous and holy sympathy ; in the year of our Lord and Saviour that Saviour of Greece and of us a proposition was offered in the American Congress to send a message to Greece, to inquire into her state and condition, with a kind expression of our good wishes and our sympathies and it was rejected ! " Go home, if you can, go home, if you dare, to your con stituents, and tell them that you voted it down. Meet, if you can, the appalling countenances of those who sent you here, and tell them that you shrunk from the declaration of your own sentiments ; that you cannot tell how, but that some un known dread, some indescribable apprehension, some indefinite danger, drove you from your purpose ; that the spectres of scimitars, and crowns, and crescents, gleamed before you, and alarmed you ; and that you suppressed all the noble feelings prompted by religion, by liberty, by national independence, and by humanity. " I cannot, sir, bring myself to believe that such will be the feelings of a majority of this committee. But for myself, though every friend of the cause should desert it, and I be left to stand alone with the gentleman from Massachusetts, I will give to his resolution the poor sanction of my unqualified approbation. 28 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND EDAHN H. CHAPIN. EDWIN H. CHAPIN is one of the ablest and most eloquent expounders and defenders of the doctrine of unlimited salva tion. He has no faith in the old black fellow who keeps the fire-office. He imagines that poets and divines give him more credit for sagacity and potency than he deserves, and that if he ever was a genius he is now in his dotage, and, furthermore, that he has not goodness enough to be entitled to our respect, nor influence sufficient over our future destiny to alarm our fears. To him a devil by any other name is just as dreadful, and the Satan he endeavors to subdue he calls Evil, Sin, Crime, Vice, Error. He thinks the distillery, where the worm dieth not and the fires are unquenched, is a hell on earth, which causes weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. Mr. Chapin is an independent, straight-forward man, who has a will and a way of his own, and he is willing to allow others the same freedom he assumes himself. He does not expect his church to cough when he takes cold, nor to acqui esce in silent submission to every proposition that he makes. He is not a theological tyrant, threatening vengeance, and outer- darkness, and eternal fire, to all the members of his flock who will not uncomplainingly and unhesitatingly yield to his spiritual supervisorship. His lessons and lectures may OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 2P sometimes smell of the lamp, but they never smell of brim stone. His education, his temperament, his organization of brain,> his natural benevolence, and the society in which he has lived, moved, and had his being, have contributed to make him a preacher of the gospel. He advocates with heroic courage and untiring zeal the doctrines of his faith, but is universally respected by all denominations of professing Christians. Mr. Chapin, is happily constituted. The animal and the angel of his nature are so nicely balanced, and his poetical temperament is so admirably controlled by his practical knowledge, that his intellectual efforts are invariably stamped with the mint-mark of true currency. There is harmonious blending of the poetical and the practical, a pleasant union of the material with the spiritual, an arm-in-arm connection of the ornamental and useful, a body and soul joined together in his discourses. He avoids two extremes, and is not so material as to be cloddish, of the earth earthy, nor so aerial as to be vapory, or of the clouds cloudy. There is something tangible, solid, nutritious, and enduring in his sermons. He is not profound in the learning of the schools. Many of In* inferiors could master him on doctrinal questions. The out- bursting and overwhelming effusions of his natural eloquence, the striking originality of his conceptions, the irresistible power of his captivating voice, the vivid and copious display of illustration, thrill and charm the appreciative hearer. He presents his arguments and appeals with an articulation as distinct anj understandable as his gesticulation is awkward. 30 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND He is sometimes abrupt, rapid, and vehement, but never " tears a passion to tatters." " His tenacious memory enables him to quote with great promptitude, and he has that delicate, sensi tive taste which enables him to select, with unerring precision, whatever is truly sublime and beautiful." Mr. Chapin declaims splendidly, in spite of his hands, which are always in his way. The stiff and technical re straints of style, which disfigure the pulpit efforts of some divines, never appear in his sermons, but seem rather to pinion his elbows and cramp his fingers. He has a fervid imagina tion, great facility of expression, is scrupulously correct in his pronunciation ; never indulges in hypocritical cant. There is no theatrical uplifting of the hands and uprolling of the eyes, so frequently witnessed in the hysteric raptures of mahogany orators. He seems to have a thorough knowledge of his subject, and commands your admiration by the kingly majesty and sublime beauty of his thought. Now he flings a page of meaning into a single aphorism, now he electrifies his spell bound hearers with a spontaneous burst of eloquence, now he dissolves their eyes to tears by a wizard stroke of pathos, now he controls their hearts with the sovereign power of a monarch who rules the mind-realm. "He infuses his soul into his voice, and both into the nerves and heart of the hearer." In person, he is stout, fleshy, and well-proportioned. He has a full, florid face, which indicates good health and happy contentment ; countenance mild, benignant and thoughtful, ** b *n expression of integrity, denoting his inability to par- OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 31 form a mean action ; is near-sighted, and this defect is no small disadvantage to him when he reads, and may account for his ungraceful action in the pulpit, since it compels him to face his manuscript so closely, he almost eats his own words, and salutes his own rich figures and glowing sentiments, and fulfils literally the scripture maxim, " He shall kiss his own lips who giveth a correct answer." As I have just intimated, he usually reads his discourses, although he is an easy extempo raneous speaker ; but he is apt to become so intensely excited he rarely trusts to his impulses. He commands a very ready pen, and is the author of two or three small volumes, which are widely circulated. His hair is dark brown. He wears glasses, so I cannot tell the color of his eyes ; has a broad, high forehead, indicating the intellectual strength of ita owner ; is now about forty years of age, and has labored with honor and success for many years, in Richmond, Va., Charles- town, Mass., as well as Boston, but is now preaching in the city of New York, where he is very popular and useful. Mr. Chapin has recently delivered a number of discourses, illustrating the phases and corruptions of city life. We give below a few extracts from some of his lectures ; although it is but just to say that they have been taken from reports and sketches, and not from any revised or complete publication by the author, who is now preparing them for the press of D. & D. Here is an extract from his remarks made respecting the fearful catastrophe on the New Haven Railroad. " A natural and I believe a proper impulse breathes in the old petition, "From sudden death, good Lord, deliver us!" 32 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND At least from death in such a form ? Always solemn in ita presence, it brings with it, often, reconciling tenderness and majesty. There is consolation in dying at home a complete ness of circumstances, which is in harmony with the falling leaf and up-springing grass, and all those inevitable yet beneficent processes of nature, which steady our hearts and assure our faith. There is a sweet anguish springing up in our bosoms when a child s face brightens under the shadow of the waiting angel. There is an autumnal fitness when age gives up the ghost ; and when the saint dies there is a tearful victory. "Without recklessness, yet with intrepid determina tion, we feel that we carry our lives in our hands, as we go into a battle, or walk by the skirts of the pestilence. But to have life battered out in an instant ; to have death s darkness overwhelm us with one plunge, and the rush of waters ; to have the vital instrument beating with the full consciousness of its own existence, and the next, stopped by a horror that petrifies itself in the dead form, and that carves itself upon the dead face, as with a sculptor s chisel ; is a violation of our nature. " But out of this specific experience in life there arises another consideration, which is never out of place. It is that sober balance of mind which we should always preserve. I have shown that the Christian looks upon our present existence with no mean or gloomy vision. Many are the joys and the blessings of life, and he who shrouds them with ascetic melan choly, is as ungrateful as he is unwise. But if, on the other hand, we are inclined to forget that tritest of facts that all OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 33 these joys and blessings are held in uncertainty ; that fact is forced upon us by calamities like this. What hopes, what associations, what schemes, went forth that morning in the crowded train ? Upon what a wreck did that day s noon look down ! What bright plans dashed into darkness ! What bounding hearts stopped by the sudden flood ! What dreams instantly breaking into the great Reality ! Ye cannot tell us now, who, but a week ago, sat side by side with loved ones in the quiet New England Sabbath, whose graves to-day will drink the Sabbath rain. Ye cannot tell who, ministers of healing to so many, had for yourselves such ghastly death-beds, and heard, it may be, the cheering of the festal hall blend with the thundering doom. Thou canst not tell whose marriage covenant was sealed with the kiss of death, and who came up from the waters with dripping bridal-robes. Sharp lesson of uncertainty, crashing upon our ears, and causing all the secu rities of our life to topple ; out of whose confusion issues the solemn text Boast not thyself of to-morrow ; for thou know- est not what a day may bring forth ! Teach us, while we grasp our joys with due appreciation, to temper them with serious ness, and to live with prepared hearts. ******* " And against this recklessness, I repeat, provision should be made by every measure which will enforce respect for human life a sentiment which, I am grieved to say, needs to be more widely and deeply felt in our age and our country. Life is precious. It is a priceless freight which you bear in those rushing cars, oh ! driving engineer a freight of warm 2* 84 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND blood, and beating hearts, and dear relations lives. The engine that pants before with throbbing breast, and arteries of fire, is but a poor symbol of the precious vitality and curious work manship of the meanest life that it drags along. An unsteady brain, a deceit of the eye, a slight risk, and the wealth of exist ence committed to your charge is shattered to ruin. And is it not right that the community, that fathers, and wives, and brothers, and sons should hold you stringently bound to all the responsibilities of your office, and refuse to cast upon Providence the burden of your fault? Something besides profit and the price of stock must enter into your account, O ! iron-hearted corporation. Against dollars you must balance life ; and if a little gain is of more consequence than a bolt more firmly driven, or an additional officer at a dangerous point, say not that the community acts merely under excite ment if it cuts the nerves by which corporations do feel." The following fine passage occurs in his sermon on the Vice of Great Cities. " A young man now, when he gets in town, is too great entirely to retain any regard for parental authority. His father is no longer such he turns into the * old man. The mother is also carelessly treated, and thus ties are weakened or broken which should never end but with death, and sometimes even then they scarce end ; for when misfortune meets you or dis grace comes on, what heart beats the truest for, and clings closer to you in disgrace, in ruin, in poverty, even at the verge of death, but the mother s ? You, young men, should be care OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 35 ful of yielding to the first temptation, for it is in that th clanger is. No one when he first took drink ever intended to become a drunkard, and yet we have seen intemperance so gain on men, that it narrowed and narrowed, till it encased them, as it were, in an iron shroud, which crushes and kills. I have read a very impressive tale of a young man who was confined in a dungeon having seven windows, but which was made of iron. On the second morning after he went there he found but six. He suspected something, and watched, and the next day there were but five, and his food and bed changed. So it went on changing from day to day, till he had but cn* window, and immediately the bells began to ring, and he then knew he was fast enclosed in that tower by his enemy, in order to be crushed to death by a slow and tormenting process." After some further remarks on the right of females to an equality in everything with the male portion of society, he concluded by again exhorting the youth to beware of yield ing to the first temptation. With this gem which I tear from its setting in a recent sermon, on " City and Country," I must close this sketch. " The pleasures of a country life, moreover, are enhanced, by having the city, with its intelligence and facilities within reach. Is is comfortable to have one s retirement tapped by the railroad, and connected by telegraphic wires ; and the murmur of the trees mingles pleasantly with the hum of popu lar applause. To the country belong all the aspects and influ ences of nature of valley and woodland, of rock and river. 36 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND the fitting stillness of night, tne pomp of morning, the inex pressible loveliness it pictures ever new, and all the glories of the punctual year. The poet s line one cannot help quoting here, * God made the country, but man made the town, and it has doubtless a true signification ; it really extends to Divine works that stand far above any human achievement ; and when one is sick and tired with routine when he is dazzled by the shows, or troubled by the afflictions of life let him go out into the calm breadth of nature, and confer with realities that are fresh and unabused, as they came from the hand of the Maker. Whatever is inspiring in mountains, lovely in the reach of landscape, or impressive in the still woods, will serve his deliverance from weariness and distaste. Let the medita tive man pass out from tangled controversies into the harmo nies of the universe. Let the man injured by the follies and nonsense of books, recover health in studying the stereotypes of God ; what revolution, what history is written in every wrinkle of the earth; what mysteries in all the unrolled heavens ; and let vice and sordidness, and all the brood of evil passions and canker, go and be rebuked by the holy presence which is so evident in the air and sky. God made the coun try, and all around it keeps the stamp of the Maker ; but man 1 makes the town, and fabrics of stone and brick, which shall crumble away. However, this fact suggests to us to consult a deeper truth." OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 37 JOHN CHARLES FREMONT. ONE of the most remarkable men of modern times is John Charles Fremont, Thomas Benton s son-in-law. He has reso lution, no obstacle can sway ; bravery, no danger can intimi date ; enterprise, no undertaking can over-match. Having a strong wish to hang his portrait on the walls of my little volume, I take the following sketch from the " Gal lery of Illustrious Americans." " The feet of three men have pressed the slopes of the Rocky Mountains, whose names are associated for ever with those vast ranges ; Humboldt, the Nestor of scientific travel lers; Audubon, the Interpreter of Nature, and Fremont, the Pathfinder of Empire. Each has done much to illus trate the Natural History of North America, and to develope its illimitable resources. The youngest of all is likely to become as illustrious as either, for fortune has linked his name with a scene in the history of the Republic, as startling to the world as the first announcement of its existence. To his hands was committed the magnificent task of opening the gates of our Pacific Empire. His father was an emigrant gentleman from France, and his mother a lady of Virginia. Although his father s death left him an orphan in his fourth year, he was thoroughly educated ; and when, at the age of seventeen. 38 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND he graduated at Charleston College, he contributed to the support of his mother and her younger children. From teach ing mathematics he turned his attention to civil engineering, in which he displayed so much talent, he was recommended by Mr. Poinsett, Secretary of War, to Nicollet, as his assistant in the survey of the basin of the upper Mississippi. Two years he was with that learned man in his field of labors, and he won his applause and friendship. On his return to Wash ington, he continued his services to the geographer for two years longer, in drawing up from his field-book, the great map which unfolded to science the vast tract they had explored. Thirsting for .adventure, he now planned the first of those dis tant and perilous expeditions which have given lustre to his name. Having received a lieutenant s commission in the corps of Topographical Engineers, he proposed to the Secretary of War to penetrate the Rocky Mountains. His plan was approved, and in 1842, with a handful of men, gathered on the Missouri frontier, he reached and explored the South Pass. He achieved more than his instructions required. He not only fixed the locality and character of that great Pass, through which myriads are now pressing to California he defined the astronomy, geography, botany, geology and meteorology of the country, and designated the route since followed, and the points from which the flag of the Union is now flying from a chain of wilderness fortresses. "His report was printed by the Senate, translated into foreign languages, and the scientific world looked on Fremont as one of its benefactors. Impatient, however, for broader and OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 39 more hazardous fields, he planned a new expedition to the distant territory of Oregon. His first had carried him to the summits of the Rocky Mountains. Wilkes had surveyed the tide-water regions of the Columbia river ; between the two explorers lay a tract of a thousand miles, which was a blank in geography. "In May, 1843, he left the frontier of Missouri, and in November he stood on Fort Vancouver, with the calm waters of the Pacific at his feet. He had approached the mountains by a new line, scaled their summits south of the South Pass, deflected to the Great Salt Lake, and pushed examinations right and left along his entire course. He joined his survey to Wilkes Exploring Expedition, and his orders were fulfilled. But he had opened one route to the Columbia, and he wished to find another. There was a vast region south of his line, invested with a fabulous interest, and he longed to apply to it the test of science. It was the beginning of winter. With out resources, adequate supplies, or even a guide, and with only twenty-five companions, he turned his face once more towards the Rocky Mountains. Then began that wonderful Expedi tion, filled with romance, achievement, daring, and suffering, in which he was lost from the world nine months, traversing 3,500 miles in sight of eternal snows ; in which he explored and revealed the grand features of Alta California, its great basin, the Sierra Nevada, the valleys of San Joaquin and Sacramento, explored the fabulous Buenaventura, revealed the real El Dorado, and established the geography of the Western 40 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND part of our continent. In August, 1844, he was again ir Washington, after an absence of sixteen months. His Report put the seal to the fame of the young explorer. " He was planning a third Expedition while writing a history of the second; and before its publication, in 1845, ho was again on his way to the Pacific, collecting his mountain comrades, to examine in detail the Asiatic slope of the North American Continent, which resulted in giving a new volume of science to the world, and California to the United States. We cannot trace his achievements during the war with Mexico, nor will future times inquire how many and how great battles he fought. After the conquest of California, Fremont was made the victim of a quarrel between two American commanders. Like Columbus, he was brought home a prisoner over the vast territory he had explored ; stripped by a court-martial of his commission, as Lieut.-Colonel of Mounted Riflemen, and re-instated by the President. Fre mont needed justice, not mercy, and he returned his com mission. His defence was worthy of a man of honor, genius, and learning. During the ninety days of his trial, his nights were given to science. " Thus ended his services to the Government, but not to mankind. He was now a private citizen, and a poor man. Charleston offered him a lucrative office, which he refused. He had been brought a criminal from California, where he had been Explorer, Conqueror, Peacemaker, and Governor. lie determined to retrieve IPS honor on the field where be OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 41 had been robbed of it. One line more wo-ard complete hia surveys the route for a great road from the Mississippi to San Francisco. "Again he appeared on the far West. His old moun taineers flocked around him, and with 33 men and 130 mules, perfectly equipped, he started for the Pacific. On the Sierra San Juan, all his mules and a third of his men perished in a more than Russian cold ; and Fremont arrived on foot at Santa Fe, stripped of everything but life. It was a moment for the last pang of despair which breaks the heart, or the moral heroism which conquers Fate itself. The men of the wilderness knew Fremont ; they refitted his expedition ; he started again, pierced the country of the fierce and remorse less Apaches ; met, awed or defeated savage tribes ; and in a hundred days from Santa Fe, he stood on the glittering banks of the Sacramento. The men of California reversed the judgment of the court-martial ; and Fremont was made the first Senator of the Golden State. It was a noble tribute to science and heroism. " His name is identified for ever with some of the proudest and most grateful passages in American History. His twenty thousand miles of wilderness explorations, in the midst of the inclemencies of nature, and the ferocities of jealous and merciless tribes ; his powers of endurance in a slender form ; his intrepid coolness in the most appalling dangers; his magnetic sway over enlightened and savage men; his vast contributions to science ; his controlling energy in the exten sion of our empire ; his lofty and unsullied ambition ; hia 42 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND magnanimity, humanity, genius, sufferings, and heroism, make all lovers of progress, learning and virtue, rejoice that Fre mont s services have been rewarded by high civic honors, exhaustW* wealth, and the admiration and gratitude of man kind." OFF-IIAND TAKINGS. 43 GEO. P. MORRIS, N. P. WILLIS, JUPGE NOAH, "PETER PARLEY," AND LONGFELLOW. THE following characteristic article from the pen of Doctor John Ross Dix, was written, at my request, expressly for this volume. I am sure the reader will thank him a thousand times for introducing to the public in such a handsome manner the noted gentlemen whom he so graphically des- scribes. I had been about a week or ten days in the city of New York, when, having got rid of the lassitude which the intense and unaccustomed heat induced, I made arrangements for presenting some of the letters of introduction with which I had been provided in England. Selecting a few from the bundle, I tripped down the steps of the " Astor," and cross ing that world-renowned thoroughfare, Broadway, entered the Park, passed by the fountain which played, encircled by rain bows, beneath the bluest of skies and in the clearest of atmospheres, and directed my steps toward Ann street. Ann street, with its neighbor, Nassau street, may be called the Paternoster Row of New York, since in it there are situated most of the newspaper and periodical publication offices. Over one of these appeared a sign-board, on which were emblazoned in gold letters, the words " Mirror Office," so, 44 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND drawing from ray pocket two letters, one of them addressee to "General George P. Morris," and the other to " N. P. Willis, Esq.," I entered the counting-room. It was a small, square apartment, divided into two portions by an unpainted wooden counter, behind and above which were shelves, on which lay back numbers and bound volumes of the New York Mirror. On the wall, over a stove, were hung proof impressions of some of Mr. Bartlett s Views of American Scenery, and a flaming portrait of an American Eagle, whose beak had "a downward drag austere," and whose claws held a bunch of thunderbolts. Hung about the place were sundry and divers bills, which informed the public that the "New York Mirror"was, far and away, the cheapest and best serial in the whole United States; and some lithographed circulars, which clearly proved that no more profitable mode of investing dollars and cents, than by pur chasing the said " Mirror," could by any means be hit upon. On entering the office I looked round, but perceived no one ; yet fancying that a clerk might be in an inner apartment, I rapped on the counter with a dollar piece. Scarcely, however, had the " silver sound" disturbed the quiet of the place, than from behind a railed desk, at the end of the counter, near the window of the office, emerged a bright-eyed, brisk looking little gentleman, who very politely inquired my business. Let me describe him. He was about five feet two or three .nches high, or, perhaps, a few inches more, not much more, however. His face was genial and pleasant. Short, crisp, dark curly hair, thinly streaked with silver threads, encircled a high OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 45 well-formed forehead, beneath which was a pair of bright, twinkling black eyes. The nose was well-shapevi, and the mouth and chin cast in delicate moulds, the latter being slightly dimpled. The complexion was fresh and florid ; altogether the aspect of the face was decidedly intellectual ; not your pseudo-pensive, thoughtful sort of expression that mock senti mentalism of look which certain young gentlemen, with turn down collars, rejoice in, but a pleasant, vivacious, sparkling Tom Moore-ish look, which at once convinced you that its owner was open-hearted, as well as open-faced. The gentle man, too, had a semi-military air and carriage, albeit, he had by no means a martial figure ; and I certainly was rather taken aback, when, in reply to my question whether General Morris was within, he replied with a smile : " Yes I am General Morris." It is not much to be wondered at that I felt some surprise at thus unexpectedly confronting so potent a personage as a great military commander ! for it must be remembered that I had not yet been a fortnight in a country where generals, majors and colonels, are rather more numerous than in Eng land. The very title of " General" had conveyed the idea of a tall, pompous soldier, with plumed cap, fierce moustachios, and dangling sabretasch, clad all in scarlet, and glittering with gold. How different the appearance of the rather diminu tive gentleman before me, who, instead of a plume, brandished a p en was surrounded by hot-pressed reams, instead of hot- blooded soldiers, and in whose peaceful armory, books super seded bullets. 46 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND It was not, however, in his military capacity that I no^r sought the acquaintance of General George P. Morris. Years and years before, both myself and hundreds besides me in "Old England," had, in many a street, lane, and alley, heard from barrel-organs, hurdy-gurdys, bagpipe, and fiddle, aye, and from grand pianos too, played upon by fair fingers, on still summer evenings, as we wandered through quiet squares, the windows of which were half-open to allow the melody to stream through screens formed by flowers and foliage I say, years before I had heard the General s popular and famous song of " Woodman, spare that Tree," then, little dreaming that I should ever grasp the hand of its author. But so it happened, that no sooner had Morris read Dr. M *s letter, than America s best song writer bade me a hearty wel come, and I felt myself at once at home with him. I do not imagine that General Morris has seen much stern military service, for I believe him to "be merely the command ing officer of a militia corps, a very peaceable and harmless body of citizens in general, their operations being confined to occasional musters, parades, and processionizing ; after which services they lay aside martial glory, and peaceably repose, on imaginary laurels, in the bosom of their affectionate families. His, has been almost exclusively a literary life, and, like all other writers for the public press, he has experienced vicissi tudes. Employed more as a journalist than as a poet, he has not been very copious of verse, but such works as have pro ceeded from his pen are highly popular. He has been called the Tom Moore of America, but such a title is not just, for in OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 4:7 his own way, he is quite as original as the Bard of Erin. Let us speak of him rather as the Columbian Korner the well-known author of the "Sword-song," the hero of the sword and pen. As a man, there are few more respected, and, indeed, be loved, among his literary brethren in New York, than General Morris. His liberality, even at times when, perhaps, he can ill afford it, to his brethren in distress, is said to be unbounded, and he has more than once impoverished himself by serving others ; some years since, he had a lovely resi dence on the banks of the Hudson, but owing to losses in business he was compelled to quit it. In conjunction with another literary man, he has long been connected with the New York Press, and " Morris and Willis," sound as naturally as if the owners of these names had been a Siamese sort of twins. At present they edit the best family literary paper in America the " Home Journal," and in the office in Fulton street, may any day be seen, florid and flourishing, the author of " Woodman, spare that Tree !" Fancy me, reader, still conversing with General Morris, when a stranger, at least to me, enters the little Ann street office. He is a tall dashing looking fellow, dressed rather in the extreme of fashion, yet in good taste, and with an air of fashionable languor about him. Nodding familiarly to the General, who smilingly returns his salute, he drops into a chair, stretches out his well-shaped legs, and, coquetting with a cigar, appears to watch the circling blue rays of smoke that soar to the ceiling. 48 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND The stranger might be called handsome certainly he has been so, but time and the pen have left their traces on his face ; evidently he cultivates the Graces, although the enemy has thinned his curling locks, which are jauntily disposed over a fine forehead. His eyes are blue, and have much vivacity in their expression, but at their outer angles are those unmis takable evidences of coming age crows -feet. The cheeks are not so plump and fresh-looking as thev must have appeared ten years ago, and they have a yellowish tinge, which travel or good living might have caused. The nose is short and slightly retrousse, the mouth delicately curved and the chin systematically chiselled. The shape of the face is round, and when the " dew of youth " rested on it, it must have been intellectually handsome, despite the dash of effeminacy that characterises it. Then, as to the figure of Mr. (I will tell you his name presently), it is, to use a trite phrase, what is called " good," that is it is tall and well-proportioned; and if General Morris might be described by Goldsmith s line, " An abridgment of all that is pleasant in man," the gentleman now specially alluded to may be spoken of as a D Orsay-ish looking fellow, not at all curtailed either in height or breadth of Nature s fair proportions. I had some dim recollections of having seen that face some where before ; but where, for the life of me, I could not ima gine. It might have been in a theatre, in the street, in a church,, or in a drawing-room. No, it had not been in any such place. A thought struck me I had seen some one like OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 49 him on the frontispiece of a book. I had not long to remain in doubt, for Morris, after having dispatched a boy with a bundle of " Mirrors," said ** Mr. , let me have the pleasure of introducing you to Mr. Willis my partner." So then, the trifling mystery was cleared up. Who has not heard of N. P. Willis, the renowned " penciller by the way," upon whose shoulders Lockhart laid the critical lash so severely ? Every one who knows anything of literary people has heard of him. I had, of course known him well by reputation, and therefore, on my introduction, regarded him with considerable interest. On my name being mentioned, he asked me whether I was the author of some lines on the death of Campbell which had a few days before appeared in the " Mirror." After kindly complimenting me on them, we di verged into various topics of conversation, and, on my remark ing that I wished to find Major Noah, to whom I had a letter, he very politely escorted me to the office of that gentleman. We soon reached Noah s office, or "Ark ;" it was in Nassau street. Here Mr. Willis left me, and then I mounted a long flight of steps, in search of the veteran journalist. Soon did I find myself in the presence of the gentleman who in his own portly person represented the Army, the Bench, and the Press. He was tall, corpulent, very red in the face, and very frank and good-humored. No one could for a moment mistake his Mosaic origin, Wit he looked very little like that hard-working personage the editor of a newspaper. Yet he had been one for many years, and was the first to engage a regular English 3 50 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND correspondent, in the person of Dr. Robert Shelton Mackenzie, who I believe, is now connected with the New York Press. Judge Noah was one of the most sanguine]y speculative of mankind, and he devised the strangest schemes possible. His last " spec " was the proposed getting up a company to pur chase Grand Island, just above Niagara Falls, on which to found a Jewish colony, which should there await the gathering in of the scattered Israelites. But the " Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast " did not enter heartily into the scheme ; and Judge Noah con tinued to mount, panting and perspiring, the long flight of office stairs, until near the time of his death, which occurred about five or six years ago. The first time I ever saw Longfellow was some eight or nine years since, at a Cambridge Commencement. I attended that gathering in the company of my excellent friend S. G. Good rich, or, as he is known all over the world, " Peter Parley." Mr. Griswold Goodrich is, in point of personal appearance, as fascinating a man as you may fall in with in a summer s day. Tall, and of a good figure, which is unbent by years, he is a man of mark ; but look at his intellectual face you cannot see what color the eyes are, for they are constantly shaded by a pair of smoked-glass spectacles notice his Roman nose his well-shaped mouth and chin, and observe the entire expression of the face, and you will come to the conclusion that Peter Parley the beloved of boys, and the glory of girls OFF-HAXD TAKINGS. 51 IB a remarkably attractive personage. Mr. Goodrich s manners, are quite in keeping with his external appearance, lie is dignified, courteous, kind, and generous-hearted. Per haps the boys and girls of America, nay, of the world, have no truer friend than he is certainly they never have had, and probably never will have, a more laborious worker for their best interests. As we stood looking at the throng of professors and stu dents, I observed a gentleman of a slight figure and rather medium stature, rapidly flitting from one point to another, He was dressed in a very fashionably made blue frock coat, with a velvet collar, a fancy velvet vest, and unexceptionable pantaloons. His face was intellectual, but not particularly so, if we except the eyes, which were of a beautiful blue, and very serene in their expression the nose was long, perhaps too long, and the hair of a light brown. This was the author of " Evangeline." Since then Mr. Longfellow has grown stout, and so far has lost the poetical grace of figure which we are apt to couple with high mental qualifications. Of course I could not but survey him with considerable interest, for, in England, he is quite as popular as in his own country ; I doubt indeed, if any British poet, Tennyson, perhaps, excepted, enjoys so extensive a fame as the Cambridge professor. Since writing the foregoing sketch of General Morris, this best song-writer of America has collected his works in a superbly illustrated volume. CRAYON SKETCHES, AND WILLIAM H. SEWAED. SENATOR SEWARD is the Daniel O Connell of America; not in stature, for the former is petit the latter was prodigious; not in wit, for the Yankee seldom perpetrates even a pun, while the Irishman was a " book in breeches," and every page gleaming with wit; not in eloquence, for Seward requires preparation and speaks without much unction; O Connell spoke spontaneously, and every word was a throb; not in faith, for the defender of the " higher law " is almost a Protes tant, while the Great Agitator, as all know, was altogether a Catholic. Yet there is a resemblance, notwithstanding their dissimilarities. Seward stands at the tip top of his profession as a lawyer, and so did O Connell. Seward made a sensation in the American Senate ; O Connell did the same in the House of Commons. Seward identifies himself with the party of Freedom. O Connell hated slavery, and "oppression made that wise man mad." Seward is charged with demagogueism. O Connell made himself all things to all men, that he might gain some. Seward has won the sympathies of the masses, and is the pet of the liberty-loving people of the North. O Connell was the idol of Ireland, and his memory will ever live in the hearts of his countrymen. Seward is dreaded as much by the Old Hunkers of this country, as O Connell wai OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 53 feared by tyrant tories of Great Britain. Seward split th Whig party ; so did O Connell. Seward is a practical tem perance man ; O Connell was a pledged tee-totaller. Seward would like to be President of the United States ; O Connell desired to be King of Ireland. Seward is a great man among great men. He is not so volcanic as Benton not so logical as Webster not so eloquent as Clay not so brittle as Foote not so jovial as Hale ; but he can write a better letter than any of them. A little from his pen will go a great distance and keep a long time. His classic style, his earnest air, his truthful manner, his uncommon sense, his perfect self-control, his thorough knowledge of the leading questions of the day, compel the attention and admiration of the hearer. He is never timid, never tame, never squeamish, never vulgar, never insulting. He is independent without egotism, modest with out subserviency, dignified without pomposity, and sociable without affectation. We need look back but a few months to find much to admire in the character of Seward. See him rise in the Senate Chamber, and hear him defend the rights of humanity in an atmosphere of opposing influences. There sits the imperious Clay, with flushed face, and flashing eyes and the Great Expounder, with pouting lip and brow of thunder ; and fiery Foote, phosphorescent with excitement ; and philosophi cal Cass, as placid as though the Union was not in danger. He (Seward) drops a word in defence of the higher law, and forthwith there is " ground and lofty tumbling." The enraged Senators appear to think that regard for the Commandments 54 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND is an insult to the Constitution that reverence for the Deity is " renegadism " from duty. So they examine the elements of nature, analyze the facts in history, and pervert the truths of the Bible, to prove that we ought to obey men rather than to obey God. Had Seward been an ordinary man, he would have been swamped amid the storm ; but he remained firm as a rock in the midst of that stormy sea, and gave proof, that, although minimum in person, he was maximum in power. Their impotent threats could no more shake his resolution, than a pinch of snuff could make him sneeze (excuse the homely illustration) for the former went in at his ears almost as frequently as the latter does into his nostrils. Governor Seward, as he is called, is a little past the prime of life, somewhat under the common stature, has a very large head, with a few gray hairs playing hide and seek amid the mass of light brown ; he has blue eyes, a small forehead, a long nose, and a patrician mouth. He is well to do in the world, happy in his domestic relations, enjoys a good reputation, and his star is still in the ascendant. The Speeches and Letters of W. H. Seward have been pub lished recently, and the reader is referred to them for specimens of his eloquence. Here is a mere mouthful. " Yes sir, it is a complete, not an imperfect power. It is a power over the District, equal to any authority which can be exercised by any Legislature of any * State in the Union, or by any Legislature of any State or nation in the world. 1 It is a power described in the philosophy of Government as OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 5 summum imperium, summo modo a power, within tha region -of its exercise, complete, absolute, universal. Now, everv Legislature in this Union, every sovereign authority in the world, has the power to abolish slavery. More than half the States in this Union have abolished or prohibited it. France, England, and Mexico, have abolished and prohibited it. Congress can do, in the District of Columbia, what they have done within their respective dominions. " I dwell upon this point only a moment longer. Slavery within the District of Columbia exists only by the action of Congress. Instead of pursuing the argument further, to prove that Congress has the power to make a free man, I demand proof that Congress possesses the power to make a slave, or hold a man in bondage. " All the other points which have been raised, apply, not to the merits of the proposition for emancipation, but only to the form and manner of carrying it into effect. Such were the objections raised by my honorable and esteemed friend from Connecticut [MR. BALDWIN], and my no less honorable and esteemed friend from Massachusetts [MR. WINTHROP]. It will be seen at once, that these objectors concede that the principle of the measure is right. Nevertheless, without holding those gentlemen to this concession, but leaving them to judge and act for themselves, I shall be content to reply to them, so far as only to vindicate the plan of emancipation embodied in the amendment. What, then, is the form, and what the manner proposed ? The amendment declares that slavery shall for ever cease in the District of Columbia, and 56 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND that all persons held in bondage therein when the act shall go into effect shall be free. It directs the Secretary of the Inte rior to pay the damages wliich any person holding slaves within the District shall incur by reason of its passage, and it appropriates two hundred thousand dollars as a fund for that purpose. The amendment further provides for an election, in which the qualified and competent citizens of the District shall express their approbation or disapprobation of the act. If they disapprove, it shall be void and of no effect. "I submit, sir, in the first place, that the plan is adequate. It will secure the abolition of slavery within the District, if it obtain the consent of those who are most particularly con cerned in the question. I have not learned from either of my honorable friends that he is in favor of emancipating the slaves without the consent of the people in the District, and we have all heard other honorable Senators insist upon that consent as indispensable. I do not insist upon it for myself. I have only surrendered so much to their objections ; but if a majority of the Senate should waive the objection, it would give rne pleasure to modify the plan accordingly. " Secondly, the plan is an equal one. While it restores to the slave the inestimable right of freedom, it awards to him who, by authority of Congress, has hitherto held the slave in bondage, a just remuneration and indemnity for his loss. It is then, adequate and equal. " Speaking for myself alone, and imputing no prejudice and no injustice to others, I maybe allowed to remark that the abo lition of slavery anywhere seems to me a just and wise policy OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 57 provided it can be effected without producing injury outweigh ing its Jbenefits. Opposition to emancipation in the Dis trict of Columbia, therefore, seemed to me to be a bad cause and it is the nature of a bad cause to betray itself. I did not mistake, then, in supposing that the opposition which my proposition would encounter would prove its best vindication. " Influenced by these considerations, I shall not now address myself to the broad merits of the question, but shall be con tent with simply adverting to the points which have been made during the present debate. Tlie first point was made by the honorable Senator from Georgia [Mr. DAWSON], with the concurrence of some other Senators, and consisted in the improper or bad motives which they saw fit to impute to the author of the measure. Sir, the great instructor in the art of reasoning (Lord Bacon) teaches that it is better always to an swer to the matter of an adversary than to his person. The imputation of motives does not come within that rule, and therefore it falls at my feet. The measure I have submitted is either right or wrong. If right, no unworthiness of motive of mine can detract from its merits ; if wrong, no purity of motive can redeem it. " The second point is that which has been so fully answered by the honorable and distinguished Senator from Kentucky [Mr. CLAY], viz. that Congress has no power to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia. I find that power in the Constitution, and it is defined by these words : To exercise exclusive legislation in all cases whatsoever over such district not exceeding ten miles square, as may, by cession of partic* 3* 5& CRAYON SKETCHES, AND ular States, and the acceptance of Congress, become the seat of Government of the United States. 1 " The District of Columbia is that district not exceeding ten miles square. It has become the seat of the Government of the United States by cession of the State of Maryland, accept ed by Congress. It is of the very nature of the power that it is exclusive/ and applies to all cases whatsoever, whenever the district becomes, in the manner defined, the seat of the Gov ernment of the United States. This, I think, is a conclusive answer to the argument of the honorable Senator from Ken tucky, that it is limited by an implied understanding that it should not be exercised to abolish slavery. Neither could the State of Maryland make nor could the United States yield such a reservation. " An exclusive power is that power which is possessed and may be exercised independently of all other sovereignties on earth. Congress, then, having exclusive power, 7 has abso lute sovereignty, unless cases be excepted in which it shall not be exercised. But such exceptions are excluded by the broad expression, in all cases whatsoever. " OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 59 EDWARD EVERETT. THE first time the writer had the pleasure to see and heal the distinguished gentleman, whose name is at the head of this sketch, was soon after the death of John Quincy Adams. Faneuil Hall, the famous cradle of liberty, was filled with the wealth and beauty of Boston for it had been announced through the medium of the newspaper press, that Edward Everett was expected to deliver the euology on the death of the much lamented ex-president. At the appointed time, the orator commenced his discourse, and delivered it with that courtly grace and noble dignity, for which he is so celebrated. So thoroughly had he committed every sentence and every syllable to memory, he did not once refer to his notes, which lay unrolled before him. Like every production from his polished pen, it was smooth, elegant, beautiful, and classical. There was nothing new in it, nothing brilliant, no lofty poetry, no profound philosophy, and yet there was a silvery vein of subtle reflection running through it, but the channel through which it flowed, had evidently been dug with a golden spade, for it lacked the original convolutions of nature ; there was too much uniformity in sloping the banks, and scooping the vales, and rounding the hills. Mr. Everett s writings and speeches are models of correct composition ; the grammatical construction is faultless, the 60 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND punctuation perfect, the arrangement accurate. His ideas like their author, are neatly dressed, and never appear before the public in dishabille. His badinage is so polite, no one can be offended; his sarcasm so refined, it never leaves a scratch upon the thinest cuticle ; his wit so genteel, it would be vulgar not to smile at its exquisite finish. With more courage and less fastidiousness, he would be the Addison of America ; indeed he is the only man entitled to that appella tion. You may look and listen in vain for wild sallies of mother- wit, or fierce invective, or exuberant passion. All the crooked lines must be straightened, all the rough ledges must be smoothed down in his pages, or woe betide the unlucky printer. His drawing-room declamation, his elegant theoriz ing, his gentlemanly deportment, have made him immensely popular with the aristocracy of America, for he is emphati cally a Yankee patrician, with vast scholarship, a handsome fa*ie and figure, and an immense fortune, indispensable requisites in those who would secure and retain the good opinion of our Massachusetts marquises, Vermont viscounts, Delaware dukes, and Louisiana lords. Mr. Everett lacks vigor, because he is afraid of being vulgar ; he lacks origi nality, because he dare not be unfashionable. He is destined to live in peace and die in peace, but his works will not follow him to the same repose. They will live for aye. When his friends prepared him for the pulpit, they should have urged him to embrace the Universalist faith, for he is too pleasant and polite to send any unfortunate victim to that OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 61 place not found on modern maps of geography, but which 13 considered by some to be much warmer than the West Indies. After examining the most objectionable features in the literary efforts of this learned divine and experienced states man, it will be unjust not to look at his excellencies. He is certainly an agreeable and amiable gentleman, whose moral character is without a stain. Kind and generous to the poor, ready to assist the unfortunate, and sympathize with the afflicted. When at the Court of St. James, he did not belit tle the nation he represented by apeing the aristocracy of England. The charge of snob-ism cannot be sustained against him, for he did not disfigure his noble person, by wearing the bespangled and vulgar uniform of court; but like an honest, and, we trust, true-hearted American, he was satisfied with the plain dress of a republican citizen. How unbecoming in the political minister of a young republic, to attire himself in the gew-gaws of royalty, with a sword dangling at his side. Let Austria, and Russia, and France, indulge in such theatrical tomfoolery if they can afford it, but let America, at home and abroad, in speech and deed, dress and address, ever maintain the doctrine of fraternity, liberty, equality, and republican simplicity. Let the old driveling nations, now in their dotage, see that America has no inclination to copy their mistakes for the sake of their transitory magnificence. In this country, every subject is a sovereign, and we acknowledge no hereditary titles, no aris tocracy, save that of genius and goodness. 62 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Mr. Everett is an orator, and, were it not for the dignified stiffness, to which I have already alluded, he would be an elo quent orator. There is no speaker in this country whose gesticulation is so unexceptionable, not one who combines such solid learning with such a graceful delivery, when he forgets "propriety" in the momentary glow of passion. How the masses rush to the pulpit or the platform to hear him speak ! With what readiness do the people of all parties appreciate the best utterances contained in his addresses ! It was while delivering a lecture at Worcester, he called attention to the learned Blacksmith, and Elihu Burritt has been famous ever since that time. I have said elsewhere, that his speeches are barren of poetry by that I mean, he never soars to the heaven of poetic eloquence. He has delicate fancy, but is deficient ill imagination. Here is a specimen of his verse making : "When I am dead, no pageant train Shall waste their sorrows at my bier, Nor worthless pomp of homage vain Stain it with hypocritic tear, For I will die as I did live, Nor take the boon I cannot give. " Ye shall not raise a marble bust Upon the spot where I repose, Ye shall not fawn before my dust In hollow circumstance of woes, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 63 Nor sculptured clay with lying breath, Insult the clay that moulds beneath. "Ye shall not pile with servile toil Your monuments upon rny breast, Nor yet within the common soil, Lay down the wreck of power to rest, Where man can boast that he has trod, On him that was the scourge of God "But ye, the mountain stream shall turn, And lay its secret channel bare, And hollow for your sovereign s urn A resting-place for ever there." The above is part of a poem, entitled " Alaric the Visi goth," who stormed and spoiled the city of Rome, and waa afterwards buried in the channel of the river Busentius. Mr. Everett seldom startles the reader with a paradox, rarely assails any popular idol, never sneers at a rival. It is evident that he writes with the expectation of being read by future generations, or he would not finish his sentences, and round his periods in such strict accordance with the rules of rhetoric, and with such a lavish display of erudition, and such fastidious nicety in selecting his quotations. He takes the place of Webster, but he cannot fill it. He has not that elephantine force, that ponderous logic, that masculine energy, and that off-hand readiness, which so pre-eminently character ized the mighty Daniel. He is, however, a man of more refined accompli shments, has more scholarship, has a better 64 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND acquaintance with general literature than his great predeces sor. In comparing him with those who were and those who are his associates, I should say, he is more polished than Webster, more classical than Cass, more graceful than Beii- ton, more learned than Calhoun, more elegant than Clay. Not long since, I saw him in the senate chamber, at Washington; he was revising the smooth speech which he delivered a short time before the senate adjourned. It was as full of flattering compliments as a Christmas pudding is of plums. Mr. Everett is about sixty years of age ; erect as a liberty- pole, of perfect mould, pale features, blue eyes, towering brow, hair turning grey, mouth and chin finely cut ; in a word, his face indicates the scholar and the gentleman he is. He dresses richly, fashionably, not foppishly, and looks like a lord. The extracts with which we conclude our sketch of Mr. Everett, are from a speech, delivered at Plymouth, on the 3d of August, 1853. " You, Mr. President, have been good enough to intimate that among our numerous honored guests, to whom your com - plimentary remarks might have applied with equal justice aa to myself, with possibly a single exception, that I am the indi vidual to whom you look to respond to the toast which has just been announced. I rise to obey your call. It is true, that there is a single circumstance by which it is possible that OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 65 the allusion may have been more exclusively applied to me than any other gentleman present, for it is most true that on one pleasant occasion on which I have been at this delightful and beloved Plymouth, I have suggested that it might be expedient, not always, but occasionally, to transfer the cele bration of the great day from the winter to the summer season. Supposing that to be the allusion which you had in your mind, I feel that I may, without impropriety, obey your call in rising to respond to the toast that has just been given. " It is now hard upon thirty years since I had the honor, on the 22d December, to address the sons and daughters of the Pilgrims, assembled in this place. I deemed it a peculiar privilege and an honor. I deem it, sir, a still greater honor to find myself here on this joyous occasion, and to be permit ted to participate in this happy festival, where we have an attendance of so many distinguished friends and fellow citi zens from distant parts of the Union from almost every state in the Union, sir, you have already told us where we are favored with the company of the representatives of the New England Society of New York, one of those institutions which are carrying the name and the principles of the Pil grims to the farthest ends of the Union; where we are gratified with the company of our military friends from the same city, the great commercial emporium of the United States; where we are honored with the presence of sc much of the gravity, the dignity, and the character of tha community ; and where we are favored with the presence of BO much of beauty, of grace, and of loveliness. (Applause.) 66 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND " A few days ago, as I saw in the newspapers, two light birch-bark canoes appeared in Boston harbor, containing each a solitary Indian. They seemed, as they approached, to gaza in silent wonder at the city of the triple hills, rising street above street, and crowned with the dome of the State House, and at the long line of villas stretching far into the back ground ; at the numerous tall vessels outward bound, as they dropped down the channel and spread their broad wings to the breeze, and those which were returning weather-beaten from the ends of the earth ; at the steamers dashing in every direction across the harbor, breathing volumes of smoke from their fiery lungs. They paddled their frail barks with dex terity and speed through this strange, busy, and to them, no doubt, bewildering scene ; and having made the circuit of East Boston, the Navy Yard, the city itself, and South Bos ton, dropped down with the current, and disappeared among the islands. " There was not a human being of kindred blood to utter a word of welcome to them, in all the region, which on the day we now commemorate was occupied by their forefathers in Massachusetts. The race is gone. It would be a mistaken sentimentality to regret the change; to regret that somo thousand uncultured barbarians destitute of all the improve ments of social life, and seemingly incapable of adopting them, should have yielded gradually to the civilized millions who have taken their place. But we must, both as men and as Christians, condemn whatever of oppression and wrong has marked the change (as is too apt always to be the case, when OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 67 strong and weak are brought into contact with each other), and without affectation we may indulge a heartfelt sympathy for the feeble and stricken relics of once powerful and formid able tribes of fellow men. ***** "The discovery itself of the American continent may, I think, be fairly considered the most extraordinary event in the history of the world In this, as in other cases, familiarity blunts the edge of our perceptions; but, much as I have meditated, and often as I have treated this theme, its magni tude grows upon me with each successive contemplation. That a continent nearly as large as Europe and Africa united spread out on both sides of the equator, lying between the western shores of Europe and Africa and the eastern shore of Asia with groups of islands in either ocean, as it were, stopping-places on the march of discovery ; a conti nent not inhabited indeed by civilized races, but still occupied by one of the families of rational man, that this great hemi sphere, I say, should have laid undiscovered for five thousand years upon the bosom of the deep, a mystery so vast, within so short a distance, and yet not found out, is indeed a marvel. Mute nature, if I may so express myself, had made the dis covery to the philosopher, for the preponderance of land in the eastern hemisphere demanded a counterpoise in the west. " Dark-wooded trees had drifted over the sea and told of the tropical forests where they grew. Stupendous ocean cur rents, driven westward by the ever-breathing trade-winds, had 68 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND wheeled their mighty flexures along the American coast, and returned to Europe with tidings of the everlasting break waters which had stopped their way. But the fullness of time had not yet come. Egypt and Assyria, and Tyre and Carthage, and Greece and Rome, must flourish and fall, before the seals are broken. The ancient civilization must be weighed in a balance and found wanting. Yes, and more. Nature must unlock her rarest mysteries ; the quivering steel must learn to tremble to the pole ; the astrolabe must climb the arch of heaven ; science must demonstrate the spheroidity of the earth, which the ancients suspected but could not prove ; the press must scatter the flying rear of mediaeval darkness ; the creative instincts of a new political, intellec tual, and social life must begin to kindle into action ; and then the great Discoverer may go forth. " He does go forth. The discovery is made ; the balance of the globe is redressed. A continent nearly equal in extent to one-half the ancient hemisphere is brought to light. What momentous questions present themselves ! Another world 1 Is it a twin sister of the ancient world ? It has mountains, and rivers, and lakes, and forests ; but does it contain the homes of man ? of cultivated races, who have pursued, inde pendently of their Eastern brethren, separate, perhaps higher paths of civilization? In a word, has the great cause of humanity, made an immediate gain by the wonderful event which has added so much to the geography of the world, as before known ? "The first contact answered these great questions in the OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 69 negative. The native races, apparently incapable of assimi lation, seemed doomed by a mysterious Providence to pass away. The Spaniard came upon them, borne on winged mon sters, as they thought, from beyond the sea; careering on strange quadrupeds, horse and rider, as they supposed, form ing but one animal, and he advanced under cover of that fearful ordnance which they confounded with the three-bolted artillery of the skies ; he came in all these terrors, and he brought them death. " Those that escaped have borrowed little from us but the poisoned cup the loathsome malady the murderous weapon. The skies are mild, the soil is fertile, there is every variety of climate, a boundless theatre for human enjoyment and action, but the appointed agent was not there. Over the greater part of the new-found continent, society, broken down by eternal wars between neighboring tribes, at once in its de crepitude and infancy, had not yet risen even to the pastoral stage. Nature, in fact, had not bestowed upon man the mute but faithful partners of his toil the horse, the ox, the sheep, and other still humbler associates, whose aid (did we but know it) lies at the basis of his civilization ; who furnish so much of his food and clothing meat, milk, eggs, and wool, and skins, and relieve his weary muscles of their heaviest burdens. There is no civilized population to stand up and enter into equal comparison and generous rivalry with Europe. The dis coverer has come ; but the settler, the colonist, the. conqueror, alas, that I must add, too often the oppressor and destroyer, are to follow in his train. By these various agencies 70 CRAYON SKETCHES, A.XD joyous and sorrowful through these parts of triumph and woe the culture of the old world, in the lapse of successive generations, reformed of its abuses, enriched with new arts, animated by a broader spirit of humanity, transferred from the privileged few to the mass of the community, is to be reproduced and perfected in the West. " I need not say to this company, assembled on the shores of the haven for which so many noble hearts on that terrible voyage throbbed with sickening expectancy that quiet haven where the Mayflower furled her tattered sails that a greater, a nobler work was never performed by man. Truly the opus magnum, the great work of humanity. You bid me speak of that Dortion of it which devolved on the Pilgrims. Would to Hearen I could find words to do justice even to my own poor conceptions, and still more that I could find conceptions not far below the august reality. A mighty work of improvement, in whicn (not to speak of what has been done in other por tions 01 the continent,) the poor solitary Mayflower, so to say, has multiplied herself into the thousand vessels that bear the flag of the Union to every sea ; has scattered her progeny through the land, to the number of nearly a quarter of a million for every individual in that drooping company of one hundred ; and in place of the simple compact, which was signed in her cabin, has exhibited to the admiration of man kind a Constitution of Republican Government for all this growing family of prosperous States. But the work is in its infancy. It must extend throughout the length and breadth of the land ; and what is not done directly by ourselves, must be OT7-KA1TD TAKING, l done by other governments and other races, by the light of OUT example. The work the work must go on. It must reach; at the North, to the enchanted cave of the magnet, within never-melting barriers of Arctic ice ; it must bow to the lord of day on the altar-peak of Chimborazo; it must look up and worship the Southern Cross. From the easternmost cliff on the Atlantic, that blushes in the kindling dawn, to the last promontory on the Pacific, which catches the parting kiss of the setting sun, it must make the outgoings of the morning and the evening to rejoice in the gladsome light of morals, and letters, and arts. Emperors, and kings, and parliaments the oldest and the strongest governments in Europe, must engage in this work, in some part or other of the continent, but no part of it shall be so faithfully and successfully per formed as that which was undertaken on the spot where we are now gathered, by the Pilgrim Fathers of New England." CRAYON SKETCHES, AND JOHN P. HALE. JOHN P. HALE is a free-and-easy, fat-and-social man, who can relish a dish of oysters, or a good joke, as well as any member of the Senate. He has the courage of Cromwell, and the fun of Falstaff. He has a strong hand at one end of his arm, and a strong head at the other. When he shakes the former, you feel a heart throbbing in the palm; when he shakes the latter, it is the signal of a storm that will hail for the space of an hour, and every stone will be the weight of a talent. Feote may rave and foam, and threaten to hang Hale, his genial and generous fellow senator, on the tallest tree in Mississippi ; but there will be a response so apropos, so full of humor, from such a sunshiny countenance, the peppery Missis- sippian will be ashamed of his impotent imprecations. There is more thunder and lightning in the crack of Bale s joke, than there is punishment in the crack of Foote s pistol. The pungent wit of the former is more destructive than the explo ding powder of the latter. The sarcasm and irony of the Northerner is more dreaded than the sulphur and saltpetre of the Southerner. The cool man of "Granite" is more than a match for the choleric representative of "Cotton." The small sword of wit cuts deeper than the bowie-knife of wrath. -En i Sra-vecLT3y J . C .Euttr* OFF-HAND TAKINGS. f3 Foote is a middle-aged gentleman, with a bald head, sear face, shrunken limbs, and restless manners, and so ignitable, it is a wonder he has not caught fire and burnt up long ago. Hale is in the prime of life, broad shouldered, broad chested, and stout limbed, and he has such control over his temper, he never forgets to be courteous, even to those who permit passion to rule reason, while they sink the glorious dignity of the statesman to the gladiatorial level of the blackguard and the bully. Hale can flog the powdery senator in debate, and fling him out of the window of the Capitol afterwards, as Oommodus threw Oleander out of the Roman palace. Foote has the most finished education, Hale the most prac tical sense ; Foote has read history, and is familiar with the past, Hale has associated with the people, and knows the neces sities of the present ; Foote understands parliamentary usages, Hale observes the rules of the Senate ; Foote is nervous, furious, and vituperative, Hale is pleasant, manly and earnest ; Foote has the rasping severity of Randolph, without his glow ing eloquence ; the brilliancy of Lee, without his chaste dignity; Hale has the self-reliance of Benton, without his general information. The former is a Cavalier, the latter a Roundhead. One would have fought to the death for King Charles, the other would have united with republican Oliver ; one is of the South, so extreme as to be tropical, the other of the North, so distant as to be frigid. When that great Nebuchadnezzar, the Compromise Bill, with its Lead of gold (without brains), its feet of Clay (without a foothold), was set up, Mr. Hale refused to bow before it ; consequently 4 74 CRAYOJV SKETCHES, AND he was bound hand and foot, and cast into the heated furnace , but he came out without the smell of fire upon his garments, During the last session of the Senate he was like Daniel (not the Webster) in the lions den, but he remained uninjured, although there was no angel present to keep the mouths of the lions closed. Mr. Hale is a man whose telescopic discernment enables him to discover danger at a distance, and when unwise or reckless statesmen plot the ruin of the nation, he sends up a rocket so that its showers of sparks, sheet of fire, and startling report, may attract the attention of the people. When that infamous Compromise Bill was before the Senate, he frequently fired an alarm gun, to warn his constituents and his country men. Although he is constitutionally indolent, when his mercury is made to rise to the blood heat of excitement he is a giant, and ordinary men are like grass-hoppers in his hands. He has not genius to originate, neither does he display much original skill ; but his words drop at the right time and in the right place, as the seed falls from the hands of the sower into the furrow. He puts new wine into old bottles, and bursts them. He is a man for the times, and speaks the language as well as the sentiments of the masses. The man bleached in the factory, and the man bronzed in the foundry, under stand him without the aid of an interpreter. Mr. Hale is sociable and affable in his manner, hearty and pleasant in his address. He has the courage to patronize and defend whatever is designed to promote the welfare of the human race, and the firmness to remain the unfaltering friend OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 75 of humanity. He speaks fluently and feelingly, and his style and sentiment are both forcible and persuasive. He is a man of foresight and sagacity, and keeps pace with the march of progress. He speaks in behalf of the African race, and pleads for the Abstinence cause. In personal appearance, Mr. Hale is a large, stout man, somewhat inclined to corpulency; has a full, healthy, rosy face ; dark hair, touched with frost ; blue eyes, beaming with mirthfulness ; an ample chest swelling with a generous heart, and shoulders strong enough to bear the cross of his party. We cannot resist the temptation to insert the following graphic sketch from the ready pen of Mrs. Swisshelm : " Hale is just as he looks in the Senate there. He has the greatest amount of droll humor and sly sarcasm that ever fell to the lot of one man ; but our opinion of him is, that the basis of his character is combativeness and firmness. Let any one walk up the pave behind him, and notice the way he sets down his foot! Every step says, there; and there he is. When he has taken a position he will keep it, because he took it for no other purpose. Attempts to drive him thence will only fasten him down. Rouse the lion in him, and you may kill, but never conquer him. Opposition is the most powerful incentive to action. He loves an antagonistic posi tion for the sake of its antagonism, and the reason he is so perfectly good-humored while contending most obstinately, is, that strife affords the most ample scope for his energies leaves no faculty to rust. At least, that is our opinion of him, T6 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND jnd we would trust our life to his stability and faithfulness, so long as the cause in which he labors is unpopular very unpopular ; but let him take the popular side of the question, and he would be a very small matter. Let the cause in which he labors become fashionable, and it is done with John P. Hale. Liberty may trust him to advocate her cause so long as she is an outcast, and while she has desperate battles to fight. He will be very respectful to her ladyship, while other people publicly spit upon her ; but if she becomes a reigning princess, and crowds of courtiers kneel at her feet, he will either turn round with a careless fling, walk off to attend to some other business, without thinking to go backwards out of the royal presence ; or he would hide behind a pillar of her majesty s palace, and shoot bits of potatoe at her out of a quill pop-gun. We do not believe he has a particle of vene ration for anything but weakness and misfortune, or that he could set a high value on anything that was not very difficult to obtain. " We walked up Pennsylvania Avenue behind him one day, and watched him wearing the outside off the heels of his boots with his firm dogged step, as he conversed with a gen tleman, turning his head on one side or the other, with an air of droll waggery that is almost peculiar to him, and we fancied we saw him, a little short-necked urchin, in slip and pinafore, with his little, fat fists clenched, and every nerve strung to its utmost tension, fighting with a youngster in breeches, twice his own size, for an apple which he deemed his peculiar pro perty. We watch the battle in imagination, until, with OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 77 bloody nose and well-pulled hair, he held the prize secure, and stood looking defiance at his antagonist, and the other young diplomatist with a snaky eye, and assumed look of indifference, calling out, as if in triumph, He! he! keep your old apple! I didn t want it! I ve got a whole load ! " There was the look of hesitation, a moment s pause, and, without a word, the object of contention was hurled at the head of the young intriguer, while John tottled off in pursuit of something better worth having ; and perfectly satisfied with the result of his encounter. " If he has not or does not, at some time of his manhood s career, re-enact this imaginary childish scene, we have greatly mistaken him, or he has and will exercise this supreme con trol of reason over natural bent, which, in this case, would be almost superhuman. If he does not, at some time, toss his fame into the face of the public, from whom he has won it, and start full chase after something else, he is not the John P. Hale we take him to be. With him a day of pursuit is worth twenty of possession. Abolitionists ought not to blame him if he really throws up his seat in the Senate, as it is rumored he will. He was true to the strongest impulses of his nature while he stood there alone, and fought their battles. He is alone no longer ! It is a mooted point if he be not in the majority, and he has not half enough work to keep him busy. The very impulses that drove him into the Senate are now driving him out of it. He may resist them, but it will \>e an unnatural warfare, and his spirit will chafe under it. 78 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND If Free Soil gains a triumph in Congress, and he stays there, just see if his good humor is not impaired if he does not grow ill-tempered for want of something with which to con tend. Like Alexander, he will take sick for want of more worlds to conquer." OFF-HAND TAKINGS. FATHER TAYLOR. / Such vast impressions did his sermons make, He always kept his flock awake. DR. WOLCOTT. I venerate the man whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrines and whose life Coincident, exhibit lucid proof That he is honest in the sacred cause. COWPER. ONE Sunday morning I went to the Sailors Chapel in Boston, to see and hear the far-famed mariners preacher, Father Taylor. He was reading the familiar hymn which commences with the well-known lines, " Come, thou fount of every blessing," when I entered the house of worship. The choir wedded the words to music the Divine blessing was invoked a chapter was read and then the sixteenth verse of the third chapter of Colossians was selected as the basis of the discourse. The striking peculiarities of the eccentric and celebrated preacher cannot fail to attract the attention of the seamen and landsmen who attend his church. He rises clum sily from the sofa in the pulpit, and puts his fore-finger on the text as though he anticipated the danger of losing it, or wag determined to stick to it. After reading it distinctly and delib erately, he is pretty sure to raise the spectacles from his eyes tmd let them rest over the organs of causality. Father Taylor does not ape the clerical stiffness which so 80 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND ill-becomes those who strive to make up in dignity what thej .ack in devotion and intellect. When he walks the pulpit floor, like a caged lion, or pounds the desk with his fists, there seems to be, and doubtless is, honesty in his zeal. When he distorts his weather-beaten face, and swings his out-stretched arms about him, and shakes his lean fingers in the faces of his li carers, we see that he has in him the elements of a good actor. He is an odd genius, and I have no hesitation in affirm ing that he will utter more wise sayings and more sayings that are otherwise, in a single sermon, than any other man in Massa chusetts. Not unfrequently he mixes his pathos and humor so evenly, the listener knows not whether to laugh or weep. One minute he appeals to Heaven, in a strain of sublimity that excites your admiration and astonishment; and the next moment he appeals to Mr. Foster, or some other member of his congregation, in a style not comporting with the idea most men have of the dignity of the pulpit. Now, with com pressed lips, grating teeth and flashing eyes, he denounces some vice or some heresy, in words steeped in a solution of brim stone ; and then, with a smiling countenance, upturned eyes, and outspread hands, he lavishes encomiums on hope, faith, love, virtue, piety. Now he pours out a torrent of adjectives, as though he resolved to exhaust the vocabulary ; then follows a stream of nouns, from his unfailing Cochituate of language: His sermons are ornamented with gems of poetry. The following extracts from the sermon I heard a week or O two since, will give the reader a tolerable idea of his matter ; his manner is unreportable, for he is the Booth of the Boston OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 81 pulpit. "Some men," said he, "will lie for a glass of grog, and some women will lie for a cup of tea. If God respects some sinners more than others, there will be a back hole in hell for liars." " Who are so low, vile, mean, hateful, as the wholesale dealers and the retail pedlars in lies?" He prefaced a quo tation from Proverbs with these words : " Solomon was a wise old fellow, although he had strange notions about some things." Speaking of backsliders, he observed : " They slide by moonshining and deceiving themselves." He ridiculed, with bitter severity, the Oratorios of the present day; said that "profane lips dared to imitate the groans of Christ upon the cross. Infidels, with instruments of music, endeavored to show the sufferings of the Saviour in the garden the driving of the nails, the dripping of the blood upon the accursed tree and they mimicked the blast of the angel s trumpet." It was an eloquent and just rebuke to those who trifle with sacred things. Father Taylor is a plain-looking man, and his bronzed face is strongly marked. He is now in the sunset of life, and his head is thickly sprinkled with grey hairs. When excited, his voice is harsh, and conveys the impression to the mind, that the "man behind it" hates the devil more than he loves Jesus. He is volcanic, and is often guided more by impulse than by intellect. Although he is in the autumn of his years, he can perform more service, endure more hardship, and preach better sermons, than half the young preachers of the present iay. 82 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND JOHN C. CALHOUN. No one at all acquainted with the political history of the United States, will deny the fact that John C. Calhoun, was one of the distinguished few whose voices penetrated every portion of our country. His bold and sententious and condensed utterances were also echoed in other lands, and excited indignation and admiration everywhere. The lovers of universal liberty admired his genius, while they deplored his course in the council chamber of state. Earnestly, eloquently, and perseveringly did he labor, in season and out of season, to defend and perpetuate slavery. Unlike such men as Jefferson, Randolph, Henry, and Clay, he regarded human slavery as an invaluable blessing promoting the welfare of society, advancing the prosperity of the nation, and perpetuating the free institutions of the Republic while they, on the contrary, declared involuntary servitude an unmitigated curse impairing our social happiness, hampering the welfare of our common country, and threatening the stability of our free institutions. John C. Calhoun was a sectional senator South Carolina was so vast in his eye, he could never look beyond its boundaries. He legislated and labored in his study and in the senate, not for the good of the United States, but for the protection and prosperity of South Carolina. That state was OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 83 all the world to him, and he knew no North, no East, no West. It is astonishing that any man, having such breadth of character, and such depth of intellect, did not have more comprehensive views Webster went for our coun try, however bounded Winthrop for our country, right or wrong, but Calhoun went for South Carolina for her men, her laws, her institutions, and her slaves. He toiled during a life-time, to persuade the world, that slavery was not an infringement on the rights of man. He was aware that it paid no respect to the institution of marriage, and made every cabin liable to become a brothel. He knew that whips, and chains, and yokes, and thumbscrews, and bloodhounds, were some of the accompaniments of such a state of society, yet he defended it. He knew that it separated husband from wife, and child from parent, and consigned three millions of human beings to stripes, and sorrow, and premature death ; yet he demanded its everlasting perpetuation. William Lloyd Garrison, speaking, said of him, with characteristic vigor, soon after Calhoun made an able^ speech in the senate : " There is no blood in him he is as cold as a corpse-. He is made of iron, not flesh ; he is hybridous, not natural." Having seen the most forbidding side of the picture, let us do him and ourselves the justice to look at the favorable side. He was a consistent man, there was no two-facedness, no double-heartedness, no dough in the composition of his nature. Whichever way the wind might blow whatever course the flood might take he waa 84 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND the same unfaltering and invincible advocate of sla\ery There was no chicanery, no humbug, no hoisting of false colors, no underhandedness in his course. He made the auction block his platform, and there he sounded the bugle blast in the ear of the nation, and acknowledged that he was the champion of chattel slavery. No electioneering tricks, no flattering nominations, no log rolling, no wire pulling, no \ efforts of friends, no party considerations ; nothing contained \ in the exchequer, could cause him to swerve a single hair, for a single moment, from his straightforward course. He was frank ; his votes, and speeches, and efforts were open and above board. He never dodged, never failed to commit himself when an opportunity was presented to show his hand ; and never wore the white feather when assailed by his fellow senators. He was personally a virtuous man, honest in his dealings (save with his slaves, he never paid them), sober (except when intoxicated with excitement, in defending slavery), chaste (his plantation was undoubtedly like others). I say, personally, he was a brave, honest, frank, chaste, and virtuous man. He had an active organization, and his fiery temperament made him an injudicious and unsafe counsellor, although his intellect was mightier than his impulses. When His head and heart were cool, he was generally right on all subjects^ save on P., He was a man of unbounded ambition, inflexible dignity, and great weight of character; besides, he was wilful in his resolutions and hi domi table in his perseverance. He had wonderful self-pos- sc?sion, and plenty of assurance for a score of ordinary men ; OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 9.^ some say he had a better balanced head than either of his great compeers ; Ihatliis. judgment was more correct, and his views more ^consistent than theirs. It is certain he was distinguished for clearness of conception, copiousness of logic, and appropriateness of illustration. His speeches are more remarkable for condensed logic, than luminous ornament. He had the vehemence of Clay, without his bonhommie ; the terseness of Benton, without his humanity ; the philosophy of Cass, without his double-dealing. If he was not so colossal as Webster, he was a closer reasoner, and his transparent earnestness won the admiration of those who were indig nant at his doctrines ; indeed, men of all parties, and in all parts of the country, entertained but one opinion respecting the consistency of John C. Calhoun. He was not a man of universal acquirements, although he understood jurisprudence, mathematics, Modern history, gene ral literature, the classic languages, and politics. The peculiar features for which he is noted, are his practical and subtle reasoning powers, his intuitive gifts of perception, and his magnetic influence over his associates and friends. In public, he spoke in a tone approximating to autocratic authority (excuse the alliteration). Occasionally he was vehement as a cataract; at such times he did not curb his passions, nor restraining invective, but dashed right on with lightning in his eyes, and thunder on his Jrps^ now tearing a bit of sophistry to shreds; now laboring an argument fused in. ths fire of his eloquence ; now lifting the veil from the goddess of Liberty, to show his auditors her face, then uttering sentiments 80 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND that might make the busts of Washington, and Adams, and Madison blush with shame. On, on, he dashed, with tho rapidity of a race-horse, out-speeding the swiftest reporters saying more words in a given time, than any other man. Wit is a weapon too small for our Hercules to wield ; poetry is not practical enough for him ; besides, slavery detests poetry, and cannot boast a single stanza in its defence ; pathos he has not ; but he has philosophy, history, argument, facts, at his fingers ends, and he uses them as they were never used before,, for he is the only prominent man who in any age, in any land plead for slavery as a blessed institution, to be sustained at all hazards, for the social and political welfare of the world. What a paradoxical man was the great Calhoun ; yet he was idolized by the South Carolinians, and they would have been willing to have crowned the great Nullifier their king, and then they would have become his dutiful subjects. A word or two respecting his personal appearance must conclude this sketch. Mr. Calhoun was a tall, thin, straight, wiry man, with sharp angular features ; hair, originally black, but turned quite grey before he died. It was coarse, and bristled up in the most combative manner imaginable, and trespassed .on that part of the forehead which is usually bare, consequently, some persons, unacquainted with the science of phrenology, have quoted his peculiar formation of head, as evidence against its doctrines. Doctor Lyman Beecher, the grandfather of Uncle Tom, and the father of the temperance enterprise, ia another i istance of this nature, which has been used by the OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 87 sceptical in the same way; whereas the doctor has a magnificent head, well balanced, and large at the right points, to make him the blessed, good man he is. Excuse this digression, I have a vagrant pen, and I have neither bit nor bridle in its nib this evening. I have the impression that Calhoun was of the nervous, bilious temperament, perhaps the bilious predominated. He had great vital and great muscular as well as great mental power. Great as was the reputation of Calhoun, it did not equal his ability. He had brain and bone enough to sustain himself in almost any contest. An author who had frequently seen him and heard him speak in Washington, says, " I do not now remember to have met an organization of greater power, during all my yisits at Washington. Webster had more vital power, and perhaps, as much muscular, but not as much mental. Calhoun s head was not as large as Webster s, though it was decidedly large. On a great occasion, Webster was decidedly the greatest man ; but under all circumstances, and when his powers were not wrought up and brought out by some powerful stimulus, he was probably not so great. In matters of detail and practical affairs, Calhoun, probably excelled; but for profound argument, Constitutional questions, conduct ing great matters, &c., Webster had the best developments. Still the powerful, the impressive, the forcible, the deep, and the efficient, are the prevailing characteristics of both, Calhoun s organization combines tremendous powers with great activity ; these two conditions are rarely united in any one man to as great a degree. He was indeed a great man. 88 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Clay s reputation was equal to his talents, which were of a brilliant, showy order. Not so with those of Calhoun. He was all that he was supposed to be. * * * * "It is doubtful if there was a higher forehead in Washington. Clay s appeared larger, for the hair retired in him ; but the development of his reasoning organs was, indeed, immense, especially comparison." In alluding to the fact, that Mr. Calhoun s hair " grew lower down on his fore head," he observes, "The fact, that the hair grew on the reasoning organs, does not affect either size or power, for it is as easy to think through the hair as without it." With the following specimens of his speech-making, I conclude this article. EXTRACTS FROM THE SPEECH OF JOHN C. CALHOUN, IN THE SOUTHERN CAUCUS, 1848. * * * " I consider the address indispensable. Whatever action is taken must proceed from the slaveholding states. If the Constitution be violated, and their rights encroached upon, it is for them to determine the mode and measure of redress. We can only suggest and advise. We are in the theatre of action, the witnesses of the alarming encroach ments which have been going on upon the r.ghts of the slaveholding part of the Confederacy. We see them plainly, we feel them deeply. They are rapid and alarming ; for who would have believed, even three years ago. that preparations, which have within a few days past commanded the support OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 89 of a majority of tlio Lower house of Congress, would nave been tolerated by any respectable portion of either house ? " We are in the midst of events scarcely of less import than those of our revolutionary era. The question is, are we to hold our position in this Confederacy upon the ground of equals, or are we to content ourselves with the position of Colonial Dependence ? Sir, it would be worse than Colonial Dependence. For who would not prefer to be taxed and governed without pretence of representation, than, under the form of representation, to be greviously oppressed by measures over which we have no control, and against which our remonstrances are unavailing ? " It is undeniable, that encroachments upon our rights have been rapid and alarming. They must be met. I conceive, that no Southern man can entertain, for one moment, the idea of tame submission. " The action of the South should be united, temperate, but decided. Our position must be taken deliberately, but held at every hazard. We wage no war of aggression. We ask only for the Constitution, and Union, and government of our fathers. We ask our Northern brethren to leave us those rights and privileges which our fathers held, and without securing which for their children, all know they would not have entered into this Union. These we must maintain. " It appears to me proper that we, who are on the theatre of action, should address our constituents of the slaveholding states ; briefly and accurately portray the progress of usurpa- tion and aggression, vividly exhibit the dangers which 90 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND threaten, and leave it in their hands to mark out the propel time of action. "What that should be, it is needless here to discuss, Whatever it is, it should be temperate, united, and decided." SLAVERY QUESTION IN THE SENATE, MARCH 4, 1850. * * * But will the North agree to this ? It is for her to answer this question. But I will say she cannot refuse, if she has half the love for the Union which she professes to have, or without justly exposing herself to the charge that her love of power and aggrandizement is far greater than her love of the Union. At all events, the responsibility of saving the Union is on the North and not the South. The South cannot save it by any act of hers, and the North may save it without any sacrifice whatever, unless to do justice and to perform her duties under the Constitution be regarded by her as a sacrifice. It is time, senators, that there should be an open and manly avowal on all sides as to what is intended to be done. If the question is not now settled, it is uncertain whether it ever can hereafter be ; and we, as the representatives of the states of this Union, regarded as governments, should come, to a distinct understanding as to our respective views, in order to ascertain whether the great questions at issue between the two sections can be settled or not. If you who repre^nt the stronger portion cannot agree to settle them on OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 9] the broad principle of justice and duty, say so, and let the states we represent agree t<r separate and part in peace. " If you are not willing we should part in peace, tell us so, and we shall know what to do when you require the question to submission or resistance. If you remain silent, you then compel us to infer what you intend. In that case, California will become the test question. If you admit her under all the difficulties that oppose her admission, you compel us to infer that you intend to exclude us from the whole of the acquired territories, with the intention of destroying irretrievably the equilibrium between the two sections. We would be blind not to perceive in that case, that your real objects are power and aggrandizement, and infatuated not to act accordingly. " I have now, senators, done my duty in expressing my opinions fully, freely, and candidly, on this solemn occasion. In doing so, I have been governed by the motives which have governed me in all the stages of the agitations of the slavery question since its commencement, and exerted myself to arrest it, with the intention of saving the Union, if it could be done ; and if it cannot, to save the section where it has pleased Pro vidence to cast my lot and which I sincerely believe has justice and the Constitution on its side. " Having faithfully done my duty to the best of my ability, both in the Union and my section, throughout the whole of this agitation, I shall have the consolation, let what will come, that I am free from all responsibility." 92 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND LEWIS CASS. HON. LEWIS CASS is a gallant general, a good citizen, ac eminent statesman, who has served his country at home and abroad, for many years, with honor to himself and credit to his country. He is a man of unimpeachable purity of cha racter, and his abstemious habits (unless he has met with a recent change) deserve the commendation of all good men. He is pugnacious, and often shakes his fist in the face of John Bull ; is ambitious, and has made high bids for the presidency In his efforts to provoke the former and secure the latter, he has displayed his weakest points. Lewis Cass is a great man physically and intellectually, There is nothing trashy or inane in his speeches ; he is not subject to poetical hysterics, and there is not much of the ma jestic or the sublime in his speeches. It is seldom that great and mighty thoughts leap from his mouth, as " Minerva sprang from the brain of Jove ;" but he is plain, practical, philosophical, argumentative, correct, and classical. He does not soar like an angel, but he stands erect like a man. He has a well- balanced, ratiocinative mind deeply experienced, and tho roughly cultivated. He cannot, like Webster, " heap Pelion upon Ossa," until his opponent is overwhelmed and crushed to the dust, but he digs deeply, until the victim is first under mined, and finally buried under his own premises. He is corpulent almost gross and has a dull face ; is a OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 93 perfect gentleman in his address, excellent company, when h is sufficiently acquainted to " unbend the brow," and in the convivial circle he can contribute his share of merriment. He speaks French fluently, and is familiar with other languages. He is a man whom his party delights to honor, and has been governor, representative, foreign minister, is now senator, an several times he has been almost President of the United States. He lives in a large, plain, democratic-looking house, in the beautiful city of Detroit. He is now ill with the ague* the only thing that can shake him. Senator Douglass has recently employed an artist to take his portrait. Perhaps he designs to hang the shadow on the wall, and take the place of the substance himself. He is highly esteemed in Michigan and has more influence there than any other man in the state. Permit me to record a joke, which has been exposed to the sun and air so long it has become dry, if not stale. " Tell Hale," said Cass, " that he is a Granite goose. " Tell Cass," replied Hale, " that he is a Wiohi-gander /" Here is a specimen of his style : SPEECH OF LEWIS CASS, ON THE DEATH OF DANIEL WEBSTER, DELIVERED IN U. S. SENATE, DECEMBER, 14, 1852. "MR. PRESIDENT. How Are The Mighty Fallen! was the pathetic lamentation when the leaders of Israel were struck down in the midst of their services and of their renown. Well may we repeat that national wail How are the mighty fallen ! * Since recovered. 94 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND when the impressive dispensations of Providence have so re cently carried mourning to the hearts of the American people, by summoning from life to death three of their eminent citizens, who, for almost half a century, had taken part and prominently, too in all the great questions, as well of peace as of war, which agitated and divided their country. " Full indeed they were of days and of honors, for, " The hand of the reaper Took the ears that were heavy but never brighter in intellect, purer in patriotism, nor more powerful in influence, than when the grave closed upon their labors, leaving their memory and then* career at once an in centive and an example for their countrymen in that long course of trial but I trust, of freedom <md prosperity, also which is open before us. Often divided in life, but only by honest convictions of duty, followed in a spirit of generous emulation, and not of personal opposition, *,hey are now united in death, and we may appropiately adopt, npon this striking occasion, the beautiful language addressed to the people of England by one of her most gifted sons, when they were called to mourn, as we are called now, a bereavement which spread sorrow dismay almost through the nation, and under cir cumstances of difficulty and of danger far greater than any wa can now reasonably anticipate in the progress of our history : Seek not for those a separate doom, Whom Fate made brothers in the tomb ; ) OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 05 But search the land of living naenj Where shall we find their like agfain ? "And, to-day, in the consideration of the message of the Chief Magistrate, it becomes us to respond to his communica tion commending itself, as it does, to the universal sentiment of the country of the death of the last lamented statesman, as a national misfortune. This mark of respect and regret^ was due alike to the memory of the dead, and to the feelings of the living. And I have listened with deep emotion to the eloquent testimonials to the mental power, and worth, and services of the departed patriot, which, to-day have been heard in the high place, and will be heard to-morrow, and commended, too, by the American people. " The voice of party is hushed in the presence of such a national calamity, and the grave closes upon the asperity of political contests, when it closes upon those who have taken part in them. " And well may we, who have so often witnessed his labors and his triumphs ; well may we, here, upon this theatre of his services and his renown,, recalling the efforts of his mighty understanding, and the admiration which always followed its exertion, well may we come with our tribute of acknow ledgment to his high and diversified powers, and to the influence he exercised upon his auditors, and, in fact, upon his country. He was, indeed, one of those remarkable men, who stand prominently forward upon the canvass of history, impressing their characteristics upon the age in which 90 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND live, and almost making it their own by the force of their genius, and by the splendor of their fame. The time which elapsed between the middle of the eighteenth century and our own day, was prolific of great events, and of distinguished men, who guided or were guided by them, far beyond any other equal period in the history of human society. But, in my opinion, even this favored epoch, has produced no man possessing a more massive and gigantic intellect, or who exhibited more profound powers of investigation, in the great department of political science to which he devoted himself in all its various ramifications, than Daniel Webstei . ***** u It was my good fortune to hear him upon one of these >ccasions, when, in this very hall, filled to overflowing with in audience, whose rapt attention indicated his powers and jheir expectations, he entered into an analysis of the Constitu sion, and of the great principles of our political organization, tvdth a vigor of argument, a force of illustration, and a felicity Df diction, which have rendered this effort of his mind one of the proudest monuments of American genius, and one of the noblest expositions which the operations of our government have called forth. I speak of its general effect, without concurring in all the views he presented, though the points of difference neither impair my estimate of the speaker, nor of the power he displayed in this elaborate debate. " The judgment of his contemporaries upon the character of his eloquence, will be confirmed by the future historian. " He grasped the questions involved in the subject before OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 97 him with a rare union of force and discrimination, and he presented them in an order of arrangement, marked at once with great perspicuity and with logical acuteness, so that, when he arrived at his conclusion, he seemed to reach it by a process of established propositions, interwoven with the hands of a master; and topics, barren of attraction, from their nature, were rendered interesting by illustrations and allusions, drawn from a vast storehouse of knowledge, and applied with a chastened taste, formed upon the best models of ancient and of modern learning ; and to these eminent qualifications v vas added an uninterrupted flow of rich and often racy, old- f ashioned English, worthy of the earlier masters of the language, whom he studied and admired. " As a statesman and a politician, his power was felt and acknowledged through the Republic, and all bore willing testimony to his enlarged views, and to his ardent patriotism. And he acquired an European reputation by the state papers lie prepared upon various questions of our foreign policy ; and one of these his refutation and exposure of an absurd and arrogant pretension of Austria is distinguished by lofty and generous sentiments, becoming the age in which he lived, and the great people in whose name he spoke, and is stamped with a vigor and research not less honorable in the exhibition than conclusive in the application ; and it will ever take rank in the history of diplomatic intercourse among the richest contributions to the commentaries upon the public law of the world. " And in internal as in external troubles he was true, and 5 98 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND tried, and faithful. And in the latest, may it be the last, as it was the most perilous, crisis of our country, rejecting all sectional consideration, and exposing himself to sectional denunciation, he stood up boldly, proudly, indeed, and with consummate ability, for the Constitutional rights of another portion of the Union, fiercely assailed by a spirit of aggres sion, as incompatible with our mutual obligations as with the duration of the Confederation itself. In that dark and doubt ful hour, his voice was heard above the storm, recalling his countrymen to a sense of their dangers and their duties, and tempering the lessons of reproach with the experience of age and the dictates of patriotism. " He who heard his memorable appeal to the public reason and conscience, made in this crowded chamber, with all eyes fixed upon the speaker, and almost all hearts swayed by his words of wisdom and of power, will sedulously guard its recollections as one of those precious incidents which, while they constitute the poetry of history, exert a permanent and decisive influence upon the destiny of nations. " And our deceased colleague added the kindlier affections of the mind ; and I recall, with almost painful sensibility, the associations of our boyhood, when we were school-fellows together, with all the troubles and the pleasures which belong to that relation of life, in its narrow world of preparation. He rendered himself dear by his disposition and deportment, and exhibited some of those peculiar characteristic features which, later in life, made him the ornament of the social circle ; and when study and knowledge of the world had OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 99 ripened his faculties, endowed him with powers of conversa tion I have not found surpassed in my intercourse with society, at home or abroad. His conduct and bearing at that early period have left an enduring impression upon my memory of mental traits, which his subsequent course in life, developed and confirmed. And the commanding position and ascendency of the man were foreshadowed by the standing and influence of the boy among the comrades who sur rounded him. " Fifty years ago, we parted he to prepare for his splendid career in the good old land of our ancestors, and I to encoun ter the rough toils and trials of life, in the great forest of the West. But ere long the report of his words and his deeds penetrated those recesses where human industry was pain fully but successfully contending with the obstacles of Nature, and I found that my early companion was assuming a position which confirmed my previous anticipations, and which could only be attained by the rare faculties with which he was gifted. Since then he has gone on, irradiating his path with the splendor of his exertions, till the whole hemisphere was bright with his glory, and never brighter than when he went down in the west, without a cloud to obscure his lustre, calm, clear, and glorious. Fortunate in life, he was not less fortunate in death, for he died with his fame undiminished, his faculties unbroken, and his usefulness unim paired; surrounded by weeping friends, and regarded with anxious solicitude by a grateful country, to whom the messen ger, that mocks at time and space, told from hour to hour the 100 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND progress of his disorder, and the approach of his fate. And beyond all this, he died in the faith of a Christian, humble, but hopeful, adding another to the roll of eminent men who have searched the Gospel of Jesus, and have found it the word and the will of God, given to direct us while here, and to sustain us in that hour of trial, when the things of this world are passing away, and the dark valley of the shadow of death is opening before us. " How are the Mighty Fallen ! we may yet exclaim, when reft of our greatest and wisest ; but they fall to rise again from death to life, when such quickening faith in the mercy of God, and in the Sacrifice of the Redeemer comes to shed upon them its happy influence, on this side of the grave and beyond it." OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 10] CHARLES C. BURLEIGH. CHARLES C. BURLEIGH, the eccentric and eloquent aboli tionist, is brother to William H. and George Burleigh, the celebrated poets. He is an out and out "come-outer" a non-compromising radical a splendid scholar an oft-hand orator. He is not so genial as Garrison but has more force not so bitter as Pillsbury, but his severity has a keener edge and cuts deeper less eloquent than Phillips, but more logical than he not so blunt as Foster, but, like him, he is a plain-dealer. His best thoughts are struck out at a heat, and come to the heart winged with words of fire. There is thunder and lightning in his logic and the concussion, as well as the conclusion, are irresistible. His arguments are not betinselled with gauze and silver spangles ; it is pure gold that glitters in his speeches. You look in vain for the double refined essence of nonsense and affectation, with which literary dandies perfume their productions. There is a smell of gun powder in the atmosphere, and a mighty fluttering of game, when he levels his gun at a multitude. His arguments are forcible his appeals pathetic his language classical. When he follows an opponent in debate, he begins at the begin ning, pursues his meanderings, and sweeps away his sophistry, as gossamer is swept by the wind. He may be seen selling 102 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND books* at -tfai door of the building where the convention ia held, one minute, and the next minute he may be seen on the platform, addressing an audience. Unmoved by the cat-calls in the gallery, or the scribbling of the reporters at his elbow, he speaks right on, as though, like the prophet Ezekiel, he had swallowed the parchment roll. There is no flaw in his unpremeditated addresses you cannot discover any welding marks. I do not set him up " too steep," when I venture the assertion, that his addresses found in the abolition papers, will compare favorably with the best speeches made in the Senate Chamber at Washington. Notwithstanding his superior talents and his surpassing power of language, he is a wild man, who ought to be caught and shaved, for his beard stands, or rather hangs, in the way of his usefulness. Unlike Samson, his weakness is in his hair, and he could better slay the Philis tines and shake the pillars of the temple, if he would permit some one to crop off his locks. The first time the writer saw him, he looked like a madman just out of Bedlam but he spoke like an Apostle whose lips had been touched with a live coal from the altar of inspiration. I have seen him frequently since that time, and think that he looks better than he formerly did as for his speaking, his last effort is always the best. Mr. Burleigh is a tall, thin man, with light eyes that glow and sparkle when he speaks. He wears a golden beard, long enough to please the taste of the most fastidious Nazarin ; permits the hair on his head to grow long, parts it in the middle, and it rolls in auburn ringlets over his narrow OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 103 shoulders ; dresses plainly, and gives abundant proof that dame Fashion seldom or never replenishes his wardrobe. Is somewhat inclined to Quakerism although his creed does not appear in the brim of his beaver or the cut of his coat. His character is irreproachable. He has labored untiringly for the welfare of humanity for many years. MJl CKATON SKETCHES, AND HENRY WARD BEECHER. HENRY WARD BEECHER is one of the boldest thinkers and bravest speakers in America. He not only wages war with unpopular vices, but has the courage to seize national evils by the throat; the mealy-mouthed, Janus-faced politician, while fishing for votes and catching suckers in the alehouse, he holds up to everlasting indignation and contempt; the gambler, who in the great game of life " stakes his soul and lets the devil win it ;" the lecherous libertine, whose look is lust, whose touch is pollution ; the miser, who cheats the pak sewing girl, and defrauds his apprentice ; the drunkard ; the death-dealer ; the oppressor, are all scourged by him ; and every word he speaks is a blow ; every blow inflicts a wound. Were he more ambitious than religious, he might employ the irreverent language of Pope, and say, " Yes, I am proud to see Men not afraid of God, afraid of me." Mr. Beecher has studied the great folio of nature, and he can read men, whether they be bound in boards, sheep, or calf. He seems to be acquainted with the haunts and the habits, the slang and the signs of the great army of sinners. He -o OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 105 never was a drunkard, but he speaks like one fresh from the spirit land ; he never was a gambler, yet he speaks about high, low, jack, and the game, as though he had studied tho pack as well as THE BOOK ; he never was a dandy, but he knows " how such die of a rose in aromatic pain ;" he never was a demagogue, yet he knows how to unmask the. dema gogue. Mr. Beecher s invaluable lectures to young men com prise one of the richest galleries of word-painting to be found in the world of literature. Now he shows us an obese, greasy, wheezing, broken-down, political hack ; then a ripe, rosy, plump, luscious rascal, " whose spotted hide covers a tiger ;" here we see a lank, lean miser, who would fling his last penny into his chest, sit upon the lid and swallow the key, for fear he might lose it ; there we see the drunkard, with his floating eyes and fiery face, &c., &c. Mr. Beecher has a style of his own ; it is more figurative than argumentative, more popular than classical. He has a fervid imagination, and although he seldom soars to the sub lime, the beautiful is quite accessible to him ; his humor is like a spirited colt difficult to ride and hard at the mouth, sheering from the road frequently at the sight of its own sha dow. He has great power of origination, and the skill to Beecherize what he borrows until it becomes his own. His mind is not a mint where every piece of metal bears the im pression of a die, but a mine where gold can be obtained by the ingot ; and he is a fool, and not an alchymist, who rejects it because there is some dross mixed with the precious ore. He is a popular, but not an eloquent speaker ; his matter is 5* 10G CRAYON SKETCHES, AND more entertaining than his manner. He is graphic, thrilling, earnest, forcible, but the burden of his reputation seems not to encumber him. When he goes from his closet to his pulpit, he has power over the minds of his hearers ; his sermons peninsulate the preacher with the congregation. The subject of this sketch has more courage than most men of his cloth. While some of his contemporaries made an auction block of the pulpit, and sold the Saviour in the person of the slave, for a few pieces of silver, or for fear of offending the " silver greys," he uncringingly denounced the damnable deed, and employed his prolific pen and tongue in defending the down-trodden and oppressed. His sermons and editorials are not still-born ; they have open eyes and throbbing hearts, and they will continue to live and speak when the wicked efforts of those who betray humanity will be forgotten ; or if remembered, remembered with scorn. Mr. Beecher is about thirty-five years of age, of common size and stature ; has brown hair, blue eyes, pale complexion ; a noble head, and thoughtful face. He puts on no awkward airs of assumed dignity, but is sociable, pleasant, and commu nicative. He is not only admired, but loved by the people of his charge. I will add to this imperfect and hasty sketch the words of Hood : "Thrice blessed is the man with whom The gracious prodigality of nature The balm, the bliss, the beauty, and the bloom, The beauteous Providence in every feature Recall the good Creator to his creature ; Making all earth a fane, all heaven its dome 1" OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 107 The following extracts will give the reader an idea of hia style . " Our citizens have been lynched for the suspicion of hold ing free sentiments ; letters and papers have been refused a channel in the national mail ; it has been freely said, and it was no vain threat, that a lamp-post or tree should be that man s rostrum who dared to own abolitionism in Southern territory ; free colored citizens have been kidnapped, carried into hopeless slavery from our midst; our ships and boats could not carry colored cooks, stewards, or sailors, without having their service withheld from them ; our whole free colored population are denied the right of travel and residence in slave States, which the Constitution guaranties to all citizens ; they are arrested if found, and sold, if proved free, to pay jail fees. "When our States, justly incensed at high outrages perpe trated against citizens and commerce, protested, they were answered with scorn and defiance. When, to avoid public scandal, and as the most direct and peaceable method, they sent venerable men to defend our citizens in the courts of slave States, their lives were threatened, innocent females in their family insulted, and all of them driven headlong home again. ****** " When such men as Henry Clay, Lewis Cass, and Daniel Webster stand up without a blush to declare that Northern citizens are bound to provide for catching and restoring fugi tive slaves, they separate themselves from the sympathy of nine out of every ten true men in the North and West. Does Mr. Webster believe that he is the Exponent of Massachusetts, 108 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND of New England, in this monstrous inhumanity ? Pass enact ments enough to fill all the archives of the Senate, and youi slave-catcher sliall not budge an inch faster or farther than he now does in the North. Every village will spurn him. Every yeoman along the valleys will run the slave and trip the shameless hunter. Bread and shelter, protection and direc tion will be the slave s portion north of Mason and Dixon s line, with more certainty and effect every year that elapses, until the day of Emancipation. It will be so, not from any special liking to the blacks, for they are not favorites ; not from any hostility to the South, for on any other question than slavery the South will find no truer friends than in the North. It will be so, because, since the world began, the sympathies of common men have been with tlie weak and oppressed. In that sympathy, they have conformed to the fundamental law of humanity which lies deeper in the con sciousness of honest men, than any national compact can ever go. Man cannot plant parchments as deep as God plants principles. The Senate of the United States is august ; and such men as lead her counsels are men of might. But no man, and no senate of men, when once the eyes of a commu nity are open to a question of humanity can reason and enact them back again to a state of indifference, and still less can they enlist them along with the remorseless hunters of human ilesh. And of all the very men who will justify Mr. Webster s adhesion to the South, if a trembling woman, far spent with travel and want, holding her babe to her bare bosom, true ir her utmost misery to motherhood, should timidly beg a morse OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 109 of bread, a place to sleep, or a night s hiding-place from a swift pursuer 4 is there one of them all who would hesitate what to do ? Is there a New England village that would not vomit out the wretch that should dare harm the slave mother? There are thousands of merchants that will say Mr. Webster is right, who the next moment will give a fugitive slave a dollar to speed on with ! There are thousands who will say we ought to stick to the Constitution, who, when the caso comes, would sooner cut their right hand off than be party to a slave s recovery. " We solemnly appeal to Christians of every name, to all sober and humane men, un wrenched by party feelings, to all that love man, to behold and ponder this iniquity which is done among us ! Shall an army of wretched victims, without a crime, unconvicted of wrong, pursuing honest occupations, be sent back to a loathed and detestable slavery ? Here is no * abstract question. We ask you, shall men now free shall members of the Church shall children from the school shall even ministers of the Gospel be seized, ironed, s,nd in two hours be on the road to a servitude to them worse than death ? " For our own selves, we do not hesitate to say, what every man who has a spark of manhood in him will say wHh us, that no force should bring us into such horrible bondage. Before we would yield ourselves to go away to linger and long for death through burning years of injustice, we would die a thousand deaths. Every house should be our fortress ; and when fortress and refuge failed us, then our pursuers 110 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND should release our souls to the hands of God who gave them, before they should degrade them by a living slavery ! Who shall deny these feelings and such refuge to a black man ? "With such solemn convictions, no law, impious, infidel to God and humanity, shall have respect or observance at our hands. We desire no collision with it. We shall not rashly dash upon it. We shall not attempt a rescue, nor interrupt the officers, if they do not interrupt us. We prefer to labor peaceably for its early repeal, meanwhile saving from its mer ciless jaws as many victims as we can. But in those provi sions which respect aid to fugitives, may God do so to us, yea and more also, if we do not spurn it as we would any other mandate of Satan. If in God s Providence, fugitives ask bread or shelter, raiment or conveyance, at our hands, my own chil dren shall lack bread before they ; my own flesh shall sting with cold ere they shall lack raiment. I will both shelter them, conceal them, or speed their flight ; and w r hile under my shelter or under my convoy, they shall be to me as my own flesh and blood ; and whatever defence I would put forth for my own children, that shall these poor, despised, and per secuted creatures have in my house or upon the road. The man who shall betray a fellow creature to bondage, who shall obey this law to the peril of his soul, and to the loss of his manhood, were he brother, son, or father, shall never pollute my hand with the grasp of hideous friendship, or cast his swarthy shadow across my threshold ! For such service to those whose helplessness and poverty make them peculiarly God s children, I shall cheerfully take the pains and penalties OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 1 1 1 of this Bill. Bonds and fines shall be honors ; imprisonment and suffering will be passports to fame not long to linger!" EXTRACTS FROM H. W. BEECHER s SPEECH AT THE GREAT KOSSUTH DINNER. " Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen, I am not accustomed to making speeches on such an occasion as this, and yet I did not feel at liberty to decline. I am sure that no sentiment could have been given to me to speak to, which I more reli giously believe. Since I can remember anything, I remember my aged father let neither morning nor evening fail, that he aid not supplicate God to send abroad the light of civil and religious liberty. And he believed what he prayed ; and if I had not, I should not have been what I am now. Yes, I so thoroughly believe in it, that it is to me a part of my reli gion. In addressing you to-night, I cannot speak as though it were an honor merely to be a supplicant to the cause to which I am designated, but as if you were standing before the altar of God, and I were put there as a man to teach you duty. [Applause.] Now, gentlemen, civil and religious lib erty is a thing that governments may declare and recognise, but which governments never make, any more than govern ments make a man. God made a man, and He never made one without the hope of liberty in him ; and if there be a man on this earth that has not got that, then he ain t made ! [^Great laughter and applause.] And because this is a part of God s talents let to us, and let on interest, and which we are bound, as receiving it from Him, to trade well upon. 112 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND therefore it is that every government and every nation that has citizens who are worthy to be called men, and are worthy to call their mothers Mother, therefore it is that every such nation is perpetually tending towards liberty no matter un der what oppressions as a seed put under a rock, or under a board, >r in the dark shadow of a wall, yet, so it has vitality, will attempt to grow, will seek the water, send its root down to it, and then seek out where light and heat may be found So, put a man under what superincumbent oppression you please, there always will be reaching out a root that will have Liberty there always will be reaching out a stem for tho light of God s precious civil and religious liberty ! [Ap plause.] But, gentlemen, it is an easy thing for us to speak about civil and religious Liberty. It is easy for us who have it, to praise it. Oh ! methinks we praise it, as I can imagine an old curmudgeon, to whom Providence has given gold, and who will not give it to the Hungarians as I would give it, if I had it. And the first time I ever envied such a man was lately. But I can imagine him dressed in velvet, with plush on which to rest his foot, flushed with wine, and surrounded with luxurious appliances, and fat and glowing in his abun dance, this old usurer take out his gold, and talk and talk over and over about the benefits of life, while the beggars are on the sidewalk by his door, and get neither a crumb from his table nor a morsel of charity. I ask, what is the use of money tc such a creature as that, except to damn him ? [Laughter and applause.] So it is with every man who is talking, talking continually about civil and religious liberty. Now, I want tc OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 113 know what they do with civil and religious liberty. [Cheers.] * * * * ^ or ^ o we interfere with nations by our example only. We are interfering by the propagation of oui ideas. We do propagate our ideas ; we do it on purpose ; not by our literature only, but by our diplomacy, bad as our diplomacy is (and few think worse of it than I), nevertheless it is not possible for diplomacy to go out of the United States without conveying, more or less, the impression of Liberty, any more than for a person to go out of a room where odors are and not carry some of the perfume in his garments. It is not possible to convey messages, to write them on paper, that are not more or less testimonials to the nations of the world. This is not all. There is a worse conspiracy than that. Why there are revolutionary societies on this continent, who have their emissaries in France, Italy and Prussia, and almost every part of the European continent. There is the Bible So ciety, one of the most revolutionary societies on the globe. There is the Foreign Missionary Society. Do not think I mean to play on words. The sum total of all Revolutions is contained in the New Testament. It contains the greatest magazine of bomb-shells, torpedoes and rockets, and other de vastating elements of all other books put together ; and that man that does send the Bible, and a Protestant Minister tc preach the doctrines of the Bible (it is no figure of speech to say it), is just as surely preparing them for civil and religious liberty, as the sun is preparing the tree for its blossoms and fruits, when in the spring it begins to warm the roots, and swell the buds and bring them out. 114 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND " Now, having interfered thus far, shall we begin to talk about backing out, when there is required a little pluck as the English call it ? [Cheers.] So long as it is safe, you can fight, but the moment it is not quite so safe, you are a little addicted to peace principles. [Laughter.] So long as it is safe, you are willing to send your missionaries, and all our pious men may read to our audiences, and our most conserva tive men may wipe their eyes and cry, " Blessed be God !" [Loud cheering.] Gentlemen, I m a little like a river, so that if you stop me by cheers, it dams me up, and I don t want to be damned ! [Great laughter.] Therefore I hope you will not cheer. [Cries of go on, go on. ] I say that while we re-, joice even the most conservative of us in all this early in terference, which I believe God directs and prospers, will you shrink when the tug of war appears ? Have not the husband men gone out and sown the seed broadcast, and has not the seed sprung up and flourished, and grown green, and from green to yellow, and will you not now come and aid to reap the harvest? If men are ashamed to reap they should be ashamed to sow. Either stop praying * thy Kingdom come, or else when it does come, recognise it. [Laughter and cheers.] For my own part, gentlemen, I have no sympathy whatever with those who believe that it is our chief duty to talk bravely, but take good care when the time comes not to do anything. "I have but a word more to say. [Cries of go on, go on. ] It seems to me that if the history of the world had been ran sacked to find an occasion where we might, with propriety, bring our doctrines to the test, no better time could be found OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 115 than that which is now cooie. I think that above all lands Hungary <is the land, and above all other men, Louis Kossuth is the man. Stop one moment and think of Hungary, with more than twelve millions of united people standing centrally almost between occidental Europe and Asia, standing in a posi tion, fitted above all others, to make it the land of liberty for all the world. It seems as if God for a long while had had his eye upon Hungary, and he has given her what he has not given to Italy or France. He has given her sound families, purity of religion, and institutions which prepare the people for self- government. They are all ready there never was a nation so well prepared. If we begin in France, many, many as are her excellencies, there is a primary work to be done in the education of the lower classes of the people. But in Hungary, of all other lands over which God looks, he says to us : > 4 Take possession of that land in the name of Liberty! " 11 fi CRAYON SKETCHES, AND ABBOTT LAWRENCE. THE first time the writer saw ABBOTT LAWRENCE, the great cotton-lord, was in Brattle Square church. He was standing in the broad aisle, conversing with a negro, who is a brother member of the same religious society to which the subject of this sketch belongs. While the beauty and fashion, the wealth and wisdom, the virtue and piety of that church were pressing homewards, the distinguished man who is now at the Court of St James, was holding a brief tete-a-tete with his black brother, and I had a fine opportunity to take his portrait. Mr. Lawrence is a tall, portly, noble and dignified-looking man, about sixty years of age. His head is bald, and shines as though it came fresh from the hands of a skilful varnisher and polisher ; and it is quite evident that the shining qualities of the head are not confined to the exterior of the skull, but seem rather to result from something brilliant within. He has a calm, pleasant face, indicating, to the minutest line, that he is not afraid to see the sheriff or the clamorous creditor. He wore, on this occasion, a thin cravat, light vest and a dress coat (I think) of olive green. I saw him again at a " mass meeting " in Faneuil Hall, the very time when he said his breeches-pocket contained the OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 117 evidence that Gen. Taylor was a Whig ! The old " Cradle of Liberty " was packed with people. It was no easy task foi those who came late to gain admittance, but, being accustomed to crowds, and determined to see and hear the speakers, I pushed my way through to the front gallery, where I obtained a seat and a view of the platform. Our subject was in the chair, and in more senses than one he filled it well. He was surrounded by men well known to fame. Some of them were acquainted with him when he was a poor, awkward boy, employed as a clerk in a store in the city of Boston. One of them told the writer that when Mr. Lawrence left his native town of Groton, he came to the capital of Massachu setts with a pair of buckskin gloves on his hands. It was during the Summer season, and some of the city gents laughed at the verdancy of the country lad. That he after wards pulled off his gloves, the " cities of spindles " he has erected, bear the most unequivocal testimony. At the proper time he arose and made a speech. It con tained humor, pathos, and logic enough to be interesting. He is more of a business than a literary man ; a better financier than statesman, and would never have been more than a moderate statesman if he had not been a first-rate financier. He is indebted to his brains for his money, and to his mone} - for his honors. He went through the mill first, then graduated, at the counting-house, and recently journeyed to London as minister-plenipotentiary. Mr. Lawrence is a magnificent man. He does everything by wholesale and nothing ic the retail line. Not satisfied 118 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND with the murmuring of a single mill, he must make every idle stream turn a crank for him. Look at Lowell and Lawrence, the cities erected by his enterprise ! He would not be Mayor of Boston, but he would like to be President of the United States ; is liberal to the poor, though he will not allow his funds to filter through his own hands to the needy. He prefers giving a large sum when he gives anything, but it must be distributed by those who are willing to come in con tact with the sorrowing and distressed. Mr. Lawrence is a practical business man, of pleasing manners and polite address. Although he has devoted a large portion of his life to business, he is familiar with the modern history of nations, and knows enough respecting tho etiquette of courts and the usages of diplomacy to fill the sta tion he occupies with credit to himself and honor to his country. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 119 RALPH WALDO EMERSON. RALPH WALDO EMERSON is one of the most erratic and capricious men in America. Some of the wiseacres who at first declared him a will-o -the-wisp, have long since made the discovery that he is a fiery comet of the first magnitude, sweeping through the heavens, and eclipsing the glory of some of the fixed stars in our literary firmament. He is emphatically a democrat of the world, and believes that what Plato thought another man may think, what Paul felt another man may feel, what Shakspeare sang others may know to be true. As for popes, emperors, kings, queens, princes, and presidents, he looks upon them as grown-up children in mas querade, uncrown them, disrobe them, and bring them on a fair level with their fellow beings, and their superiors may be found among their subjects. In his essay on Self-Reliance, he says : " Our reading is mendicant and sycophantic in history, our imagination makes fools of us, plays us false. Kingdom and lordship, power and estate, are a gaudier vocabulary than private John or Edward in a small house and common day s works, but the things of life are the same to both. Why all this deference to Alfred and Scanderberg and Gustavus ? Suppose they were virtuous, did they wear out virtue ?" He has no patience with the chicken-hearted, who have to refer 120 CRA/ON SKETCHES, AND to mouldy records and old almanacs to ascertain if they may say their souls are their own. We overlook present good in our insane attempts to pry into the mysteries of the dark past. We put the past in front of our faces, instead of keeping it behind our backs, where it legitimately belongs. Hear him : " He dare not say I think I am, but quotes some saint or sage. He is ashamed before the blade of grass or blowing rose. These roses under my window make no reference to former roses, or to better ones ; they are for what they are ; they exist with God to day." " But man postpones or remembers ; he does not live in the present, but with reverted eye laments the past, or, heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on tip-toe to foresee the future." This idealistic philosopher and Titian thinker is not san guine in his hopes of progress. He has the impression that men say " go," and stand still ; that radicals shout " reform," and do not improve themselves ; that many Christians go to church for the same reason that the multitude went into the wilderness. If society improves here, it retrogrades there; when the tide of prosperity flows in one place, it ebbs in another. We have maps, charts, books and globes, but. neglect to study the beautiful earth and the bright heavens. We go fast (even by steam), but what we have gained in speed we have lost in strength ; we have acquired a know ledge of science and sacrificed our health ; the telegraph is our " errand boy," and we die for the lack of exercise ; we lose our roses in our teens, and grow grey in the morning ol life. If we are wiser, we are also older than our fathers were OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 121 at twice our age. We gape and gaze at every novelty that comes before us. A quack with his nostrums, a priest with his nonsense say to us, " Shut your eyes, open your mouth, and swallow ;" and we, like boa-constrictors, swallow the whole, and then mistake an undigested stomach-full for a heart-full. Mr. Emerson is a terse, vivid, and graphic writer. Some times there is a glow of poetry behind a veil of mist in his essays. It is difficult to tell at what he is driving. He is often like the sun in a fog ; we know there is light and heat, but the vapor hangs like a thin curtain between us and the luminary, as though the monarch of the skies was trying to hide his spots. He now and then deals in unintelligible inversions, inexplicable mysticisms, and seems to shake up his disjointed and unsorted ideas in ollapodiana style, as though he designed to give us the " clippings, parings, and shreds of his thoughts." If Swedenborg be the Shakspeare of theology, Emerson is the Swedenborg of philosophy. Even his incongruous agglomerations are brilliant, as they are incomprehensible. Read the following as a specimen of that style : " The Gothic cathedral is a blossoming in stone, sub dued by the insatiable demand of harmony in man. The mountain of granite blooms into an eternal flower, with the lightness and delicate finish as well as the serial proportions and perspective of vegetable beauty. In like manner all public facts are to be individualized, all private facts are to bo generalized. Then at once history becomes fluid and true, and biography deep and sublime." 6 122 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Mr. Emerson is a poetical as well as a prose writer, but there is more poetry in his prose than in his poems. In Europe he is regarded as the essayist of America. During his tour through Great Britain, he met with a cordial recep tion, and his lectures were numerously attended. He is by some entitled the " Carlyle of America," but he is evidently a better and a greater man than Carlyle. The pupil is wiser than the teacher. The chip is larger than the block. He has a more opulent intellect, much better taste, and higher and holier aims, than the snarling, cynical philosopher of the Old World. The only time the writer had an opportunity to hear Mr. Emerson, was at a mass meeting in Worcester. He was in - vited to speak, and responded with great reluctance, and then made a failure. He stammered, halted, blundered, hesitated, through a five minutes speech. The people were astonished at his awkwardness. He cannot make an extemporaneous speech. He would not have appeared to such great disadvan tage, perhaps, had he not followed directly in the wake of Wendell Phillips. Mr. Emerson is in the prime of life, and is an intellectual-looking man ; has dark brown hair, blue eyes, a pale, thoughtful face, not a great development of forehead, and is between forty and fifty years of age. He is a sociable, accessible, republican sort of a man, and a great admirer of nature. Had he been a Persian he would have worshipped the sun. He is celebrated the world over as a lyceum lec turer. He is in independent circumstances. He is a strange compound of contradictions always right in practice, often OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 123 right in theory. He is a sun, rising in the East and setting in the West, but occasionally he alarms and astonishes us by rising and shining at midnight. The literary lilliputians, who have endeavored to pin rtmer. son to the earth, find that he is in good standing with the gods ; of course, their labors, not of love but of jealousy, are lost. He loves his brother man, whether he belongs to the green-jacket tribe or the royal family. He looks upon the flowers as his friends. " The spendthrift crocus, bursting from the mould, Naked and shivering with its cup of gold," has honey and fragrance for him. The birds are his compa nions, and he interprets their warblings. He reads the les sons that are stereotyped on the rocks in a word, to hirn the world is a book and the sky its blue cover; deserts and oceans arc its fly-leaves, and the busy nations the illustrations of the volume. Kossuth probably never listened to a more eloquent speech than the following. SPEECH OF RALPH WALDO EMERSON. "SiR. The fatigues of your many public visits, in such unbroken succession, as may compare with * the toils of a campaign, forbid us to detain you long. The people of this town share with their countrymen the admiration of valor and perseverance ; they, like their compatriots, have been hungry to see the man whose extraordinary eloquence is seconded b} ]24 CRAT-ON SKETCHES, AND the splendor and the solidity of his actions. But, as it is the privilege of the people of this town to keep a hallowed mound which has a place in the story of the country as Concord is one of the monuments of freedom we knew beforehand that you could not go by us ; you could not take all your steps in the pilgrimage of American liberty, until you had seen with your eyes the ruins of the little bridge, where a handful of brave farmers opened our Revolution. Therefore, we sat and waited for you. " And now, Sir, we are heartily glad to see you, at last, in these fields. We set no more value than you do, on cheers and huzzas. But we think that the graves of our heroes around us throb to-day to a footstep that sounded like their own ; The mighty tread Brings from the dust the sound of liberty. " Sir, we have watched with attention your progress through the land, and the varying feeling with which you have been received, and the unvarying tone and countenance which you have maintained. We wish to discriminate in oar regard. We wish to reserve our honor for actions of the noblest strain. We please ourselves that in you we meet one whose temper was long since tried in the fire, and made equal to all events ; a man so truly in- love with the greatest future, that he cannot be diverted to any less. " It is our republican doctrine, too, that the wide variety of opinions is an advantage; I believe, I may say of the people of this country at large, that their sympathy is more worth, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 125 because it stands the test of party. It is not a blind wave it is the living soul, contending with living souls. It is, in every expression, antagonized. No opinion will pass, but must stand the tug of war. As you see, the love you win ia worth something ; for it has been argued through ; its foun dation searched ; it has proved sound and whole ; it may be avowed; it will last; and it will draw all opinion to itself. " We have seen, with great pleasure, that there is nothing accidental in your attitude. We have se^n that you are organically in that cause you plead. The man of freedom, you are also the man of fate. You do not elect, but you are elected by God and your genius to your task. We do not, therefore, affect to thank you. We only see you the angel of freedom, crossing sea and land ; crossing parties, nationali ties, private interests, and self-esteems ; dividing populations, where you go, and drawing to your part only the good. We are afraid you are growing popular, Sir ; you may be called to the dangers of prosperity. But hitherto, you have had, in all countries, and in all parties, only the men of heart. I do not know but you will have the million yet. Then, may your strength be equal to your day ! But remember, Sir, that every thing great and excellent in the world is in minorities. " Far be from us, sir, any tone of patronage ; we ought rather to ask yours. We know the austere condition of liberty that it must be reconquered over and over again ; yea, day by day ; that, it is a state of war ; that it is always slipping from those who boast it, to those who right for it ; and you, the foremost soldier of freedom in this age it is foi 126 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND us to crave your judgment who are we, that we should die- tate to you ? "You have won your own. We only affirm it. This country of working-men greets in you a worker. This Re public greets in you a republican. We only say, Well done, good and faithful. You have earned your own nobility at home. We admit you ad eundem (as they say at college). We admit you to the same degree, without new trial. We suspend all rules before so paramount a merit. You may well sit a doctor in the college of liberty. You have achieved your right to interpret our Washington. And I speak the sense, not only of every generous American, but the law of mind, when I say, that it is not those who live idly in the city called after his name, but those who, all over the world, think and act like him, who can claim to explain the sentiment of Washington. " Sir, whatever obstruction from selfishness, indifference, or from property (which always sympathises with possession) you may encounter, we congratulate you, that you have known how to convert calamities into powers, exile into a campaign, present defeat into lasting victory. For this new crusade which you preach to willing and to unwilling ears in America, is a seed of armed men. You have got your story told in every palace, and log hut, and prairie camp, through out this continent. And, as the shores of Europe and America approach every month, and their politics will one day mingle, when the crisis arrives, it will find us all instructed beforehand in the rights and wrongs of Hungary, and parties already to her freedom/ 1 Engta-7-ed "b-j j.CB^ OFF-HAND TAKINGS. JOHN VAN BUREN. PRINCE JOHN is the Duke of York, the distinguished son of King Martin the First ; is the Jupiter Tonans of his party, the Jove of jolly fellows, a royal roystering republican, a genius and a good fellow, admired and adored by the masses. He can accommodate himself to the society of the voters in the " Sixth Ward," or the company of peers with laced gaunt lets, knights in golden mantles, or Presidents at the " White House," without losing his identity. He is John Van Buren, and nobody else, whether he be sitting cheek-by-jowl with Tom, Dick, and Harry at the corner grocery, or debating with the Cokes and Littletons of the law in chancery, or hugging and kissing Queen Victoria in her palace. When the obese, wheezing, antediluvian Hunkers met him in the arena of combat, he attacked them vigorously and repulsed them with great (slaughter. This apostle of the " young democracy" bids fair to occupy an important niche in the Pantheon of the present time. He has a philosophical and penetrating mind, which has had the advantages and disadvantages of every degree of cultivation in the palace of the President and in the pothouse of the demagogue. He knows there are zealots, bigots, and earnest Christians in our churches; true patriots and truckling 128 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND sycophants in our political parties ; devoted philanthropists and hollow-hearted pretenders in our benevolent associations, and he governs himself accordingly. He knows the man- about-town, and permits him to be on sociable terms, for that comports with his idea of republicanism. He allows the hackman, the bar-tender, the wood-sawyer and the butcher-boy to call him Jack, and slap him on the shoulder, for the same reason the sportsman plays with his dogs at the commence ment of the chase. John Van Buren is fond of the chase, and he will hunt the rats to the barn, and then set the buildings on fire, for he is truly a "barnburner." Sometimes he has to contend with eloquent reasoners and men of imperious talent. On such occasions he displays great versatility of mind, searching analysis, nice taste, sound judgment, vivid fancy, polished scorn and convincing logic. He can be comic, dramatic, energetic, picturesque, sedate, seductive, inductive, and deduc tive. He punished Croswell (a political editor) over the remains of Silas Wright, as Marc Antony did Brutus over the dead body of Ca3sar ; and when the man of " mighty pens" attempted to retreat, he got his "foot in the gra- ting." At a mass meeting, when Prince John was the mouthpiece of his party, one of the " unterrified " proposed three cheers for Cass. " Oh, don t," said the waggish orator, with a look of mock gravity; "it will be like whistling at a funeral." His speeches are often enlivened with caustic wit and unmis takable home-thrusts Sometimes he leads his hearers through OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 120 a dead level of political history, without either song or story to change the dull monotony and cheer the impatient hearer, He writes clearly and forcibly, regardless of finish or orna ment ; has as much shrewdness, adroitness, and world-wisdom as his father, but less secretiveness, less suavity and less dignity ; can excel his father at stump speaking, but cannot equal him in writing a Message. John annihilates his enemies by the simoon of his sarcasm ; his father catches them in the trap of stratagem, and compliments them into bosom friendship. Indeed, he is an unconverted Paul, pursuing (not persecuting) hunkers (not Christians) to strange cities, while his father is Absalom (without the locks), winning the hearts of the people. Prince John is a favorite among the ladies. It is currently reported that when Queen Victoria presented her lily-white hand for him to kiss, according to court etiquette, he, in the face of such usages, with republican gallantry folded his arms around her neck, and gave her a hearty smack upon her cheek. It is also said that during his widower- hood he paid some attention to a lady of fortune in Western New York, and once upon a time, when they were riding on horseback, he ventured to pop the question. The lady changed the subject by asking him to overtake her at the same time giving her horse a hint which caused him to bound forward with the speed of the wind. John was astride a livery stable hack, and was soon distanced; and not a little mortified at seeing the lady s glove upon the road ! If it be true that this distinguished " son of 6* 130 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Y ork" has refrained from the use of wine, there is a brilliant future before him. He is so frank, so generous, and so gifted, he is the man the people will delight tc honor ; but he must not, like Alcibiades, deface the imagea of the gods and expect to be pardoned on the score of eccen tricky- Mr. Van Buren is one of the first men in the " Empire State." lie sustains the same relationship to the Democratic party that Seward holds to the Whig party. In persona] appearance, he is a tall, spare man, with a " locofocoish" look, somewhat round-shouldered, and stoops a little when he walks, as though he had to bear upon his back the responsibility of the party he lately rejuvenated. His head is prematurely bald, and the scanty supply of hair that is left is soft, thin, and of a foxy color, and has that phosphorescent appearance which indicates a readiness to blaze the moment there is any friction of brain hence his flashes of wit when he is rubbed. He is about forty years of age, has an ample forehead, expres sive eyes, and a countenance denoting a high order of intellect. He is an eminent lawyer, a great statesman, a progress politician. There is a sort of don t-care-a-copper-ativeness about him, a reckless spirit of dare-anything-ism, which is repulsive to the amiable, though delightful to the disciples of rowdyism. In his happiest moods, when speaking from the tri bune, he is chaste, classical, philosophical, and the illuminati become his enthusiastic admirers. He only needs the grace ful polish, the serene dignity of his father, added to his othet OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 1S1 best attributes, to render him one of the most useful, honora ble and distinguished men of the nineteenth century. That he is destined, if his life is spared, to hold an impor tant relation to the politics of his country, is the sincere belie! of CRAYON. 112 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. " THERE," said our driver, " is the birth-place of John G. Whittier," when he pointed to a plain farm-house on the edge of the town of Haverhill, situated a short walk from the road side or, as the poet himself describes the old homestead "Our farm-house was situated in a lonely valley, half sur rounded with woods, with no neighbors in sight." Soon after my arrival at the busy and beautiful village of Amesbury, where the great poet of humanity now lives, I ascer tained his whereabouts, and gave him a letter of introduction, written by our mutual friend, W. A. W , an untiring co-laborer in the work-field of reform. I found him at home, in his Quaker cottage, where his friends and visitors are sure to meet with a kind reception. On the adjoining lot is another nest in the bushes, where a family of singers give vocal utter ance to the poetry Whittier writes. Mr. W. responded to the rap at the door, and invited me to take a chair in a plain, neat room, which commands a view of a large and beautiful garden, where he spends a share of his leisure time, when his health will permit him to work there. He gave me an introduction to his excellent mother, and after a little chat on the common topics of conversation, politely invited me to remain and taka tea with him. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 133 I knew quite well that I was in the presence of one of the puresfcminded and most gifted men in America ; a man whose name and fame are world-wide, and " as familiar as household words ;" a man whose mighty thoughts are winged with words of fire; but he is so unassuming, so accessible, so frank, and so well " posted up " on all matter of news, that, whatever sub ject is broached, one feels at home in the presence of a friend, while conversing with him. This eminent poet of the slave is forty years of age. His temperament is nervous-bilious ; he is tall, slender, and straight as an Indian ; has a superb head ; his brow looks like a white cloud, under his raven hair ; eyes large, black as sloes, and glowing with expression. He belongs to the society of Friends, and in matters of dress and address, he is of u the strictest sort." Should a stranger meet him in the street, with his collarless coat and broad-brimmed hat, he would not discover anything remarkable in his appearance, certainly would not dream that he had seen the Elliott of America. But, let him uncover that head, and see those star- like eyes flashing under such a magnificent forehead, and he would know, at a glance, that a great heart, a great soul, and a great intellect, must light up such a radiant frontispiece. His fellow townsmen are proud of his fame, as well they may be, for Amesbury will be known all over the world, to the end of time, as the residence of John G. Whittier, " the poet of the poor." Wherever he discovers the talisman of intellect he recog nises a brother ; " though his skin and bones were of the color of night, they are transparent, and the everlasting stars shine 134 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND through them with attractive beams." He knows that com plexion is not a crime, crisped hair is not a sin, thick lips are not a transgression, and he has bared his arms to avert the blow that would plough the quivering flesh of the toil-worn slave. He has heard the wail of the distracted mother, who, like Rachel, refuses to be comforted because her child has been torn from her bosom and sold into hopeless servitude, where her eye cannot pity its sorrows, where her hand cannot allevi ate its distress ; and he has denounced such fiendish cruelty with an eloquence and pathos approximating to inspiration. He has seen hollow-hearted statesmen tear the stripes from our fl ag and put them on the backs of our countrymen ; and he has spiced sheets that will preserve such mummies in the amber and pitch of infamy for ever. He has seen the fugitive flying from the house of bondage, with hunters and blood-hounds on his track in hot pursuit, and he has shouted, " God speed the slave !" until lungless echo has repeated the cry on every hill top of the free North. He has seen where the red-hot brand ing-iron has been pressed on the shrinking flesh of a freeman s hand, until the sizzling blood spouted from the wound ; and the angel of his muse touched his lips with a burning coal from the altar of God, whilst he immortalized the patient hero, and annihilated everything but the damnable infamy of the heart less, soulless persecutors. Mr. Whittier is a sincere lover of truth and right, and his language is, " In vain, and long, enduring wrong, the weak may strive against the strong, but the day shall yet appear, when the might with the right and the truth shall be, and OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 135 come what there may, to stand in the way, that day the world shall see." (Pardon my drawing the lines into prose. I quote from memory, and fear I might do still greater injustice to the author, by measuring the sentiment off into verse.) Such men as he, are excluded from the South, but slaveholders can no more keep out his sentiments than the fool could keep the wind out of the barn-yard by closing the gate. Judging by the emotions excited by his writings, we are led to the con clusion that he usually writes with tears in his eyes, but a certain magazine publisher, whose likeness accompanied one of the numbers of his magazine, can testify that his satire punishes like the sting of a scorpion. Read the following lines : " A moony breadth of virgin face, By thought unviolated, A patient mouth to take from scorn The hook with bank-notes baited, Its self-complacent sleekness shows How thrift goes with the fawner , An unctuous unconcern for all, Which nice folks call dishonor." An eminent statesman will find it difficult to outlive the following lines : " So fallen, so lost ! the light withdrawn Which once he wore ! The glory from his grey hairs gone For ever more. 136 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND ** Let not the land once proud of him Insult him now, Nor brand with deeper shame his dim, "Dishonored brow. " But let its humbled sons instead, From sea to lake, A long lament as for the dead, In sadness make " Then pay the reverence of old days To his dead fame ; Walk backward with averted gaze, And hide the shame." Whittier s poetry is eloquence measured with a golden reed, verse on fire, pathos crying in the notes of the nightingale, philosophy playing on the harp, humor laughing in numbers, wit rained down from heaven in a shower of stars. His Avrit- ings are not free from imperfections of style and sentiment ; but men seldom notice pebbles, while looking at the lights in the cerulean arch above. He is the author of several volumes of prose, which are widely circulated. His verses are full of philosophy, beauty, and sublimity. He sympathizes with the unfortunate, and chastises the oppressor with a whip of adders. In some of his patriotic appeals he reminds us of the old prophets. Had Isaiah lived in these times, he might have written the following lines without impairing his reputa tion : OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 137 " Now, by ouv fathers ashes ! where s the spirit Of the true-hearted and the unshackled gone ? Sons of the old freemen, do we but inherit Their names alone ? i " Is the old Pilgrim spirit quenched within us ? Stoops the proud manhood of our souls so low, That mammon s lure or party s wile can win U3 To silence now ? 11 No ! When our land to ruin s brink is verging, In God s name let us speak while there is time ! Now, when the padlocks for our lips are forging, SILENCE is CRIME ! " Some of his best poems have been published in beautiful style in Boston lately, but the work is so expensive the masses are not able to buy it. His writings do not need such costly embellishments to be appreciated, any more than the sun needs a stained window through which to shine. The lark and the nightingale need not the costume of the peacock to ensure admiration. Mr. Whittier is one of the editors of the " National Era? and I may say, in a whisper, to the ladies, he is a bachelor The reader is here presented with a short specimen of Mr. Whittier s prose composition. AN INCIDENT OF THE INDIAN WAE OF 1695. " The township of Haverhill, even as late as the close of the seventeenth century, was a frontier settlement, occupying an advanced position in the great wilderness, which, unbroken I S3 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND by <he clearing of a white man, extended from the Merrimack river to the French villages on the river St Francois. A tra. i of twelve miles on the river and three or four northwardly was .occupied by scattered settlers, while in the centre of the town compact village of some thirty houses had grown up. In tho immediate vicinity there were but few Indians, and these generally peaceful and inoffensive. On the breaking out of the Narragansett war, the inhabitants had erected fortifications, and taken other measures for defence; but, with the horrible exception of one man, who was found slain in the woods in 16*76, none of the inhabitants were molested ; and it was not until about the year 1689, that the safety of the settlem-wct was seriously threatened. Three person^ were killed in that year. In 1690, six garrisons were established in different parts of the town, with a small company of soldiers attached to each. Two of these houses are still standing. They were built of brick, two stories high, with a single outside door, so small and narrow that but one person could enter at a time ? the windows few, and only about two and a half feet long by eighteen inches wide, wiih thick diamond glass, secured with lead, and crossed inside with bars of iron. The basement had but two rooms, and the chamber was entered by a ladder instead of stairs, so that the inmates, if driven thither, could cut off communication with the rooms below. Many private houses were strengthened and fortified. We remember one, familiar to our boyhood, a venerable old building of wood, with brick between the weatherboards and ceiling, with a massive balustrade over th OFF-HAND TAAlNUS. 139 door, constructed of oak timber and plank, with holes through the latter for firing upon assailants. The door opened upon y stone-paved hall or entry, leading into the huge single room of the basement, which was lighted by two small windows ; the ceiling black with the smoke of a century and a half a huge fire-place, calculated for eight-foot wood, occupying one entire siae while overhead, suspended from the timbers, or on shelves fastened to them, were household stores, farming utensils, fishing rods, guns, bunches of herbs, gathered perhaps a century ago, strings of dried apples and pumpkins, links of mottled sausages, spare- ribs, and flitches of bacon; the fire light of an evening dimly revealing the checked woollen coverlet of the bed in one far-off corner and in another, the pewter plates on the dresser Caught and reflected the flame as shields of armies the sunshine. "Tradition has preserved many incidents of life in the garrisons. In times of unusual peril, the settlers generally resorted at night to the fortified houses, taking thither their flocks and herds, and such household valuables as were most likely to strike the fancy or minister to the comfort or vanity of the heathen marauders. False alarms were frequent. The smoke of a distant fire, the bark of a dog in the deep woods, a stump or bush, taken in the uncertain light of stars and moon for the appearance of a man, were sufficient to spread alarm through the entire settlement, and to cause the armed men. of the garrison to pass v/hole nights in sleepless watching. " It is said that at Haseltine s garrison-house, the sentinel on 140 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND duty saw, as he thought, an Indian inside of the paling which surrounded the building, and apparently seeking to gain an entrance. He promptly raised his musket and fired at the intruder, alarming thereby the entire garrison. The women and children left their beds, and the men seized their guns, and commenced firing on the suspicious object, but it seemed to bear a charmed life and remained unharmed. As the morning dawned, however, the mystery was solved by the discovery of a black quilted petticoat hanging on the clothes line, completely riddled with balls." OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 141 WASHINGTON IRVING. IT is really surprising that a country so young as America, can count so many men of extraordinary talent and true genius. I know that unappreciating asses and conceited ascetics, who glory in denouncing the land they disgrace, tell us, with all the gravity of ignorant and impertinent assurance, that there are no great men (of course they except them selves) in the United States, as though intellect was bounded by state lines, or blighted by the atmosphere on this side the Atlantic. To such an extent have the unthinking masses caught this infection of contempt for their own countrymen, that poets and preachers, actors and authors, of all degrees of talent, are, comparatively, unrecognised until they have been endorsed by an European reputation. Indeed, this remark applies to persons who are not devoted to literary pursuits. If a man would succeed in sailing a boat, or picking a lock, or mowing a field of grain, his fortune is made when England acknowledges the superiority of his skill, and it is much to the credit of the mother country, that she is ever ready to acknowledge the peculiar gifts and graces of her transatlantic rival. We are indebted to famous old England for the discovery that Cooper and Irving were men of true genius, and that the latter could write in a style which would be no discredit to When Dickens was in this country, he paid a 142 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND very handsome and merited compliment to the celebrated author of the " Alhambra " and " Knickerbocker." I begac by alluding to men and women of genius, with the intention of glancing at a few of them, but I must postpone that plea sant task for the present, and proceed at once with my sketch of the American Goldsmith. I know not among his own countrymen, any author with whom to compare him. He has more polish and less wit than Paulding; he is not so much given to detail, and has greater wealth of imagery than Cooper; he has a smoother style, and a more fascinating manner than Hawthorne ; and is no more like Emerson, than a candle is like a comet. In many points he is unlike the author of the " Vicar of Wakefield." Goldsmith was bashful, awkward, and of ordinary personal appearance ; Irving has the assurance of a well-bred gentleman, is graceful in his manners and movements, and his form of perfect proportion is surmounted by a magnificent head and handsome face. Notwithstanding these and other dissimilarities, their style is alike. There is the same glowing rhetoric, the same opulence of illustration, the same perfection of finish. This is not the result of education ; there has been no effort to imitate the conversational ease, the tender shiftings, the pleasant pathos, the gentle sportiveness, the splendid raillery of Goldsmith. Irving excels in " literary light horsemanship ;" he never stops to argue his case, and yet there is a meaning and a depth in his philosophy, which answers the purpose of the most elaborate logic ; and here I may be permitted to say, that not a few of our writers who are now in active service, and OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 143 who make no pretensions whatever to prove their positions by mathematical demonstration, give the appreciative reader that proof which sinks lower and weighs heavier than the profound- est argument. Read some of the best things by N. P. Willis, and he has written some of the best things in the English language, and you will find sermons in a sentence, poems in parentheses, scattered with princely profusion over the works which come from his prolific pen. Yet, Mr. Willis is not a metaphysician, he is not a sermonizer, not a discussionist, but he has the genius to invent, and the pluck to print what he discovers, without waiting to hunt up mouldy precedents to sustain him. I have noticed more originality often in a sin gle page of the " Home Journal," than I have found in the next octavo that I perseveringly waded through. This is but a single instance to show that conviction does not always depend on solid argument, and that sound philosophy is not necessarily excluded from the works of those who write, because they cannot help it ; men, whose impulses are often more reliable than the intellect of those who weigh every word, and use square and compass on every sentence, before they venture to feed those who are hungering and thirsting after knowledge. The popularity of Irving arises principally from the fact, that while his style is elegant, and his thoughts are full of suggestions, he does not soar above the comprehension of the mass of readers, while he never fails to gratify the refined taste of the most fastidious, and satisfy the demand of the best thinkers. 144 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Being of the sanguine, nervous temperament, he imparts the thrilling glow of his exuberant nature to the rich productions of his magic pen, so that the reader becomes intensely interested; indeed, one almost feels the author s heart throbbing at the point of his pen, and the pulse beating in every paragraph ; he is genial as the light, and when he puts forth an intellectual effort, it seems as though his soul arose like a sun in his breast, shedding warmth, and light, and beauty, on the enchanting page. His readers, not only admire his genius but love the man ; his humor is so amiable, his pathos so touching, and his philosophy so true to nature, that he commands our affection, while he irresistibly compels our attention. Then, again, his cordial greeting, his constant urbanity, his genuine courtesy, his gentlemanly address, and his spotless character, all contribute to form life-lasting friendships. Who ever heard any one speak contemptuously of Washington Irving ? Everybody acquainted with his writings desire him all the happiness and all the success he aimed at. Such flexibility of style, such purity of sentiment, such perfection of finish, is rarely found in prose writers of the present day. Who has such richness of ideality, such copiousness of language, such exuberance of fancy? His writings are chaste as the snow, and* surpassingly beautiful in their elegant uniformity. His physical organization is perfect. Although now quite advanced in life, he is erect as a palm tree, and walks with the elastic vigor of a young man. He is not above the com mon size, of ordinary stature, with a contemplative cast of facet, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 145 dark hair, dark complexion, and dark pensive eyes, which kindle when he becomes interested in conversation. Speci mens of his stvle may be found in all our books of choice prqse selections. The following is from a beautiful work, entitled " Homes and Haunts of American Authors :" "Washington Irving, although so obviously adapted by natural endowments for the career in which he has acquired such eminence, was educated, like many men of letters, for the legal profession ; he, however, early abandoned the idea of practice at the bar for the more lucrative vocation of a merchant. His brothers were established in business, in the city of New York, and invited him to take an interest in their house, with the understanding that his literary tastes should be gratified by abundant leisure. The unfortunate crisis in mercantile affairs that followed the peace of 1815, involved his family, and threw him upon his own resources for subsistence. To this apparent disaster is owing his subse quent devotion to literature. The strong bias of his own nature, however, had already indicated his destiny; his inaptitude for affairs of business, his sensibility to the beautiful, his native humor, and the love he early exhibited for wandering, observing, and indulging in day dreams, would infallibly have led him to record his fancies and his feelings. " Indeed, he had already done so with effect, in a series of letters, which appeared in a newspaper of which his brother was editor. His tendency to a free, meditative, and adven turous life, was confirmed by his visit to Europe, in early t 146 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND youth. Born in the city of New York, on the 3d of April, 1783, he pursued his studies, his rambles, and occasional pencraft there, until 1804, when ill health made it expedient for him to go abroad. He sailed for Bordeaux, and thence roamed over the most beautiful portions of southern Europe, visited Switzerland and Holland, sojourned in Paris, and returned home in 1806. In 1809, * Knickerbocker s History of New York, appeared, then followed the Sketch Book/ Bracebridge Hall, * Tales of a Traveller, Life of Columbus,* Conquest of Granada, Alhambra, &c. He was afterwards appointed Secretary of Legation to the American Embassy, in London, which office he held until the return of Mr. McLane, in 1831. During his stay in England, he received one of the fifty guinea gold medals, provided by George IV., for emi nence in historical composition and the degree of LL. IX from the University of Oxford ; on his return to New York, in 1832, he was welcomed by a festival. "He afterwards wrote the Tour on the Prairies, Newstead Abbey, Legends of Spain, Astoria, The Adven tures of Captain Bonneville, and other works, and is now engaged on the Life of Washington. " OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 14T G. W. BETHUNE. Br refering to Griswold s popular and beautiful book of American Poetry I find that the Rev. George. "W. Bethune, the poet and the preacher, was born in the Empire State. His reputation as a scholar and an orator are such as to render his name quite familiar to American citizens, in all parts of this Confederacy. He is the author of several volumes of literary and religious discourses, which are as much distinguished as his poems, by a genial loving spirit, and a classical elegance of diction. In 1847 he edited an edition of Walton s Angler, supplying many ingenious and learned notes, and in the same year he published a volume of " Lays of Love and Faith." The following graphic sketch I have been permitted to copy ill advance of publication from a splendid work now in press in Boston. The work to which the writer is so deeply indebted is entitled the " Church-goer ;" it is from the pen of my friend Dr. J. R. Dix, a sketch of whom may be found in another portion of this volume and here I will venture the prediction that his series of pulpit sketches will have an immense circula tion in this country. The allusion to the English clergymen* in the following extract, although by no means disrespectful, offended one of our Yankee aristocrats to such an extent that * The articles were published first in a weekly periodical in Boston. 148 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND he foolishly exhibited his bad temper and worse taste by denouncing the writer and the publisher. " There he stands, and so let him for a few moments, whilst the reporters are sharpening their pencils the people settling down in their places, and your humble servant all eye all ear. "Externally, Dr. George W. Bethune is of the portly, parso nic order, and in respect of adipose matter he forms a very striking contrast to the reverend gentleman upon whom, the reader will remember, I accidentally stumbled in Philadelphia. He was none of your lean, hungry, ascetic looking men, such for instance as was in appearance the late Moses Stuart, who, when I saw him in his dusty old study at Andover, looked as musty and as dry as any of the Fathers on his shelves. No, the Doctor rather reminded me of that sleek and oily gentleman, Friar Tuck, whose very name is suggestive of venison pasties and dainty bits of warden pie. Neither did he at all provoke remembrances of certain hard-working Curates. Far from it ; he was of the Bishop order that sort of bishop I mean who holds a fat diocese, and dispenses di vinity in lawn sleeves. Mind, I speak only of externals, for I believe that very few of the old British bishops to whom I refer are, so far as mental endowments or usefulness are con cerned, at all comparable with our orator of the Phi Beta Kappa. " Dr. Bethune s face possesses a shrewd but certainly not a highly intellectual expression it is too fleshy for that. The forehead is broad, but not high ; and on its summit the long, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 149 light colored straight hair is parted in the centre and combed hack behind the ears. The eyes are of a greyish or blueish tint, and rather small. The nose is short, and the mouth large too large indeed for symmetry, and the plump cheeks are whiskerless. After what was just now said, the reader will be prepared for a double chin, a considerable amplitude of waistcoat, and for a stomach like that which Shakspeare described as capon lined. Altogether, on surveying the Doctor, you would at once pronounce him to be something out of the common, whilst his unaffected and offhand manner would convince you that no one was farther removed from any thing like the consciousness thereof, or of affectation of any kind, than himself. " Dr. Bethune s oratory is chaste, poetical and glowing. A ripe scholar, his sermons are always models of style ; and without too much elaboration, they possess exquisite finish. Some of his discourses remind us of a polished shaft crowned with its graceful capital of carved acanthus leaves, symmetry, elegance, and firmness, all combining to form a perfect whole. If they do not exhibit the profound thought that characterizes the sermons of a Hall or a Boardman, they exhibit the flowers of oratory in all their beauty and glory. His command of language is great, he at times displays even an affluence of diction, and an opulence of imagery. A shrewd observer of men and manners, he is fond of shooting folly as it flies, and when it so pleases him he can be as sarcastic as Randolph, or as sour as Burgess. The shams of the day are his abhor rence, and he fearlessly attacks them. No man has a highe/ 150 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND respect for the * powers that be, but no minister holds hia own so independently, or with more dignity sustains his sacred office. His descriptive passages remind us somewhat of the verbal grandeurs of Croly, the author of The Angel of the World, and the Rector of St. Stephen s, Walbrook, London. The last time I heard that distinguished English Divine, his subject was one which led him to refer incidentally to the splendors of Ancient Nineveh, the city whose long- buried glories have since been revealed by Layard. Certainly such a magnificent specimen of word-painting I never before heard. Listening to him was like reading scenes from his own gorgeous, eloquent Salathiel, or perusing the Apocalypse by flashes of lightning ! With a marvellous pomp of language he described the glories of the now ruined cities, and with amazing fluency heaped splendor on splendor, until, as the eye grows dazzled by gazing on the changing glories of a tropic sunset, when clouds of amber and vermilion, piled on each other, assume a thousand fantastic shapes, so the mind became almost overwhelmed by his many and superb illustrations. Thus is it sometimes in the case of Dr. Bethune. Occasionally he over-colors his pulpit pictures, so that in place, as it were, of the delicious harmony of a Claude, we now and then behold the extravagant gorgeousness with which Turner used to cover his canvass. " Dr. Bethune well supports the dignity of the pulpit. He appears to feel that it is no place for trumpery show, or idle display. He commands respect as well by his manner as his He uses but little action, and that is always graceful OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 151 as graceful indeed as it can be, when we remember that he confines himself to his notes. Did he preach extemporaneously he would be far more effective. Alas ! for written discourses, what they gain in correctness they lose in warmth. When will ministers fling their manuscripts away and trust to the inspiration of the moment? There is to me something supremely ridiculous in a man s clutching the leaves of his sermon book with one hand, for fear he should lose his place, whilst with the other he is frantically beating empty air ! It is like a bird with a lame wing, or a race horse with a fettered hoof. I question whether Wesley or Whitefield would have produced a tithe of the effect they did, had they read their sermons. It is a pedantic, mind-cramping, inspiration-destroy ing practice, and the less we have of it the better. For my own part, I would rather hear the humblest preacher out of book, than the most admired minister who is tied to his written lines. Some folks may sneer at my taste perhaps let them. I do not of course advocate unstudied sermons, for I take it to be an insult to any congregation for a minister to go into the pulpit unprepared. What I deprecate is, the dull, dry system of reading, and often of badly reading, a coldly correct composition a consequence of which is, that there is seldom a spark of genuine feeling elicited from the time the text is announced until a final Amen closes the dreary discourse. " Dr. Bethune is an author. Scattered among hymn books and annuals we find some very charming productions from his pen. Griswold, in his Poets and Poetry of America, 152 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND assigns to him a niche which I scarcely know whether to con sider an honor or otherwise. For, turning over the leaves of the same compilation, I noticed the other day that from amongst the works of another * poet, of America, who also has a place given him in this walhalla of harmony, the Doctor had extracted, as a specimen of poetry/ a strange description of a captain, who, when his alarmed passengers were " busy at their prayers in the cabin, behaved in the most unseaman-like way, for we are told that " We are lost, the captain shouted, As he staggered down the stairs ! " Now this may be suggestive of drunkenness and piety, but certainly not of poetry ; and so we may doubt whether to be magnified in Griswold is any great compliment after all. Seriously, though, Dr. Bethune is, if not a great bard, a very pleasing poet of the Alaric A. Watts school, and to prove it we here insert the following stanzas : TO MY WIFE. " Away from thee ! the morning breaks, But morning brings no joy to me ; Alas ! my spirit only wakes To know that I am afar from thee ; In dreams I saw thy blessed face. And thou wert nestled on my breast ; In dreams I felt thy fond embrace, And to mine own thy heart was pressed OFF-HAND TAKINGS. " Afar from thee ! tis solitude ! Though smiling crowds around me be, The kind, the beautiful, the good, For I can only think of thee ; Of thee, the kindest, loveliest, best, My earliest and my only one ; Without thee, I am all unblest, And wholly blest with thee alone. " Afar from thee ! the words of praise My listless ear unheeded greet j What sweetest seemed in better days, Without thee seems no longer sweet The dearest joy fame can bestow, Is in thy moistened eye to see, And in thy cheek s unusual glow, Thou deem st me not unworthy thee " Afar from thee ! the night is come, But slumbers from my pillow flee ; Oh ! who can rest so far from home ? And my heart s home is, love, wi I kneel me down in silent prayer, And then, I know that thou art nigh ; For God, who seest everywhere, Bends on us both his watchful eye. " Together in his lov d embrace, No distance can our hearts divide; Forgotten quite the mediate space, I kneel thy kneeling form beside, 1* 104 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND My tranquil frame then sinks to sleep, But soars the spirit far and free ; Oh ! welcome be night s slumbers deep, For then, sweet love, I am with thee. " Besides poems, Dr. Bethune has made some valu ^n- tributions to literature, both in theological and scientific paths. His orations and occasional discourses, says one of his re viewers, show that " he is a man of large and generous views, uniting to the attainments of the scholar a profound know ledge of mankind. In discourses prepared for public occasions, it is almost impossible that allusions, more or less direct, and more or less connected with the occasion to the institutions, the policy, the legislation of the country, and the duties of its citizens should not often occur. Dr. Bethune s political philosophy is liberal and enlightened; it is the uncompro mising application of Christian morality to public life, and there is no nobler and truer political philosophy than this. One of the most remarkable discourses in this volume is that entitled 4 The Claims of our Country on its Literary Men. We could wish that it might be read attentively by all those in our coun try who devote themselves to letters, whether in the retirement of our academic institutions, or in the hours snatched from other pursuits. Its wise counsels are expressed in a manly style, and sometimes with eloquence. " The Doctor is the author of the Introduction to Walton rind Cotton s Angler, which is prefixed to the best American edition of that charming work, and few are able to " whip the water " with more success than the pastor of the Dutch OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 155 Reformed Church in Brooklyn. In this contemplativa man s recreation, as good quaint old Izaak hath it, he is not, j in my opinion, overstepping the proprieties of parson-hood, for were not Peter and James and Simon fishermen ? Some caviller may say * Aye, but they were piscatorial for a living? No matter, we think Dr. Bethune may preach all the better for an occasional ramble by the running brooks, for such souls as his can find good in everything. Doubtless he has studied many a sermon with rod and reel in hand, and quite as useful ones as if they had been painfully composed with some of the musty old Fathers on one side of him, and a heap of dusty Commentators on the other. As I have intimated, Dr. Bethune is the pastor of a Dutch Reformed Church, in Brooklyn, N. Y. The edifice is new and handsome, and the congregation rather fashionable, I believe, but of such matteri I know little and care less." 156 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND E. P. WHITTLE-. DURING the past week the weather has been summer-like. It seemed as though the sky stooped down to clasp the earth in its blue arms, and when night came with its thousand eyes, it seemed but a step from sod to star. Winter paid us a visit to-day, and furnished us with a pattern of the white dress she intends to wear this season. Owing to the unwalkable condition of the streets, and the threatening aspect of the skies, the audience was not so large as usual at the Music Hall. By the time the first comers had devoured the contents of the evening papers, E. P. Whipple, the justly celebrated critic, essayist, and lecturer, made his appearance. I had often seen him in my walks about the city, and wondered who he was. I knew by his step and look, that he was no ordinary man. He is a short, slender person, with a superbly developed head, a white, high, broad forehead, smooth brown hair, parted carefully and brushed behind his ears, large star-like eyes, flashing with magnetism, a thin, pale, sickly face, written all over with thought-marks. A little strip of white collar turned over a black neck-cloth, having the appearance of a large snow flake fresh from the clouds, was about his neck, the black neck-cloth was rounded as gracefully as one of his OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 15^ own periods, and tied as handsomely as though some of hia rhetoric had been woven into silk and fastened there. Mr. Whipple speaks distinctly, in a sharp, nervous, energetic manner, with a graceful, yet monotonous gesticulation, emphasizing every dozen words with a jerk of the head and a swing of the arm, as though he were pumping the blood from the vitals to the brain. Indeed, his head is a large reservoir of a stream of vitals, too slender to supply the demand of the brain. If one could just chop off Van * * * * head (it would be a small loss, you know), and put Whipple s cranium on his broad shoulders, under his great heaving lungs, there would be animal power sufficient to work the mental mill, which at present has too much machinery to operate well. (It would be necessary to change hearts also.) Then how his voice would ring, and chime, and toll start ling, cheering, and aweing his hearers. How his great eyes would flash with human lightning. How he would wing his thunder-bolts with electricity. Now his weak voice staggers under the heavy load of his Titan thoughts. Now his white cheeks cannot call sufficient blood from his heart to redden them in the midst of a storm of excitement. He thinks too much, and acts too little. Were he to study less and ramble more, he would not thus offer his body a living sacrifice on the altar of literature. Let him exchange Parnassus for Wachusetts the Elysian fields of belles lettres for Boston Common, the fount of Helicon for Cochituate Lake, the society of the Gods for the society of Men, he would enjoy better health and have a stronger body, and propelling power 158 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND enough to work his brain-miL to better advantage. Mr, Whipple is an effective writer, an honest critic, a brilliant essayist. Although not more than thirty years of age, he has eaten more libraries than a University could digest in one generation. He is an encyclopedia individualized, and seems to be thoroughly familiar with history, science, art, agriculture, geology, theology, poetry, and almost everything else desirable to know. This evening he gave us a splendid lecture on Heroism. Were I to give you its beauties, I should have to quote the whole of it. It was packed full of meaning, terse, vigorous, classical, and original; beautiful in language and mighty in thought. He is an earnest man who speaks with the authority of a prophet, and labors with the zeal of an Apostle. He says Milton was a hero, who plucked out his eyes and laid them on the altar of his country s weal. So I say Whipple is a hero, who tears out his vitals and offers them a sacrifice at the shrines of science. The interest enkindled at the commencement of his lecture is constantly kept up by the beauty and grandeur of his images, and the life-like pictures that hang up on the walls of his memory. We see Jupiter nodding on the summit of Olympus. Hercules lifting his club. Apollo stringing his bow. Neptune swaying his trident. Bacchus draining his goblet, and Mammon grasping his gold. The fictions of mythology, the facts in history, and the truths of religion, are skilfully employed to interest and inform the listener. Mr Whipple is a man of ardent enthusiasm and vivid imagination. He has a keen relish for the elegancies of art, and the OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 150 beauties of nature. He lias a ready appreciation of the pro prieties of language, thought, and manners, as established b} the usages of society, and a refined sympathy with the best sentiments of the purest intellects, hence he is a critic. He has been brought up^ not with a silver spoon, but a book in his mouth, and has; acquired such a command of the best language, he is able to give us " thoughts that breathe, in words that burn ;" hence he is a lecturer. In the commencement of his lecture, he gave us a graphic sketch of the sneak ; he then defined heroism, and afterwards described the hero soldier, the hero patriot, the hero reformer and the hero Christian. If the enterprising and enlightened people of * * * * desire to hear one of the best lectures of the season from the faithful lips of one of our first men, let them forthwith secure the invaluable services of Mr. Whipple. I have the impression that Mr. W. is a native of Massachusetts, of humble parentage, and that he is self-taught. When quite young, he secured a situation as clerk in a large library, where he had ample opportunities for intellectual culture. At the meeting, I noticed an unappreciating goose of a girl, directly in front of him, who had the bad manners to open her book and read during the delivery of some of the richest portions of the lecture. An unappreciating ass of a man also hissed him when he said Louis Napoleon was a sneak and not a hero. One dear little woman was so pleased she laughed and nodded and looked from side to side, where she saw scores of sympathizers. The following extracts from his lecture will give an idea of his style : 160 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND "The noblest and most exhilarating objects the human mind could contemplate were," he said, " those which exhibited the mind in an exalted aspect. Heroes inspired our weakness with the energy of their strength, and taught us to feel that we, not they, were unnatural; that nature, obstructed in common men, appeared unchecked in them. They were so filled with the wine of life they had, in Fletcher s phrase, * so much of man thrust into them that they appeared in colossal proportions. Heroism was genius in action. "This principle was no sparkling epigram of action, but gradually developed itself in the mind until it rose to action. There was a unity between the will and the intelligence of the Hero. He was not perched upon a giddy height of thought, but stood upon the table of human character and action. Opposition tended but to call out the qualities of his courage, and urged him on through all impediments. His eye ever had the impression of looking into the distance. No fear of death disturbing him ; it was lost in the intensity of his life. " In the heroism of the soldier, glory was the absorbing idea. It was this which distinguished the man from the brute in the bloody field. Glory made the grim battle-field seem as a vision of youth to the warrior s eye. In such men as Bayard, this principle of glory was sublime; in men like Napoleon the idea degenerated into a thirst after universal fame. " The Patriot Hero took a place above the soldier. He was self sacrificing, elevated, and inspired with a love of country that made death sweet in her service. The idea and senti OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 161 ment of country was felt in his heait, and dilated his indi viduality to the size of the national individuality. He regarded every wrong to his country as a wrong to himself. " The Reformer felt the full force of the responsibility that rested upon him, when the seed of reformation was dropped into his heart to be nurtured into action. Many were tho obstacles against which he has to contend ; and not least the accusations of those whom he was sacrificing himself to benefit. Heroism," continued the lecturer, " was distinguished by a principle positive of love not of negative hate. They might be soldiers, patriots and reformers, but not Heroic, except by a principle of love. It was love of his own country, not hatred of any other, which made the heroic patriot ; nor was it fear or hate of hell, but love of God, which made the heroic saint. This latter was the highest degree of heroism, but yet it was a kind of heroism not eagerly coveted nor zealously approved. The patriot of the Heavenly Kingdom was the true pilgrim. The still, deep ecstasy which imparadised his spirit, could but ill describe itself in words. Its full power could only be seen in the vir tues which it created ; in the triumphant faith which defied the pains of the rack, and lifted the spirit above the world. He regretted his deficiencies, in trying to paint the character of Heroism for them. From a consideration of its records they would rise, not as from memories of the past, but living forces of the present, which would graft upon the mind ita deathless energies." 162 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND G. C. HEBBE. DURING my short stay at the city of Washington, I availed myself of an opportunity, afforded by a letter of introduction, to call and see the renowned Dr. G. C. Hebbe. He is so well known at the capitol of our country, I found little difficulty in ascertaining his whereabouts. After threading my way as best I could through the crowd that occupied the spacious sidewalks (for I happened to hit upon a time when multitudes were hungering after the loaves and fishes of office), I ascended a flight of stone steps in front of a private house, and pulled the bell, which brought an immediate response. " Does Dr. Hebbe board here ?" I inquired. " He does," was the reply from a modest waiting maid. " I should like to have this letter presented to him." "Walk in, sir, if you please," said the servant, and hastened to the apartment occupied by the author it is my intention to sketch. In a few moments came a request for the writer to visit him in his study. I met him at the door, where he gave me a cordial greeting, free from affectation, and full of that heartiness which is one of his peculiar character istics. After announcing the object of my visit, he very generously volunteered to render any assistance in his power, He had the kindness to offer me letters of introduction to aved"by J C Buttre OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 103 several of the United States senators, with whom he was per sonally and intimately acquainted. I found him, on my second visit, buried in books, working vigorously at something for his publishers, De Witt & Davenport. The Doctor s study is not a dusty garret, like those honored by some of our most celebrated writers of prose and poetry ; but a spacious, airy, neatly furnished apartment, commanding tt fine view from its windows. The distinguished occupant of this apartment is a vigorous and classical writer, whose magical pen has multiplied friends to his party. Having had the advantage, in early youth, of the best schools and universities in the old world, and having further improved his mind by travel and intercourse with many of the first and best men in Europe, we need not be at all surprised that his fluent pen created the sensation it did, when he wrote his political pamphlets ; neither is it a matter of surprise, that when expatriated to this country, he at once was welcomed by the ablest writers of America, for his fame and his works had preceded him. Perhaps, no man in this country is so thoroughly familiar with ancient and modern history certainly, no man in the United States has written so voluminously as he, on the intensely interesting subject of Uni versal History. He is a profound philosopher, a deep thinker, a cogent reasoner, a caustic antagonist, and a never-tiring student. He never twangs his bow without piercing the mark with his arrow, which though sharp, is never pointed with poison. In person, he is tall, well proportioned ; has a fresh, healthy 164 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND face (ladies pronounce him handsome) ; dark hair ; lofty forehead ; dark, dreamy eyes, which light up in conversation. He speaks and writes our language much better than a majority of even our literary men. The following letter which was written by a friend, gives a condensed and graphic sketch of the life of this noted man, and with it I close this " taking." " Dr. Hebbe s family is originally from Bohemia ; where one of its members received a large landed estate, together with the title of Baron, in the tenth century, from the emperor, Henry the Fowler, on account of great military services in the war against the Magyars. In the sixteenth century, the family of Hebbe adopted the Protestant religion, and suffered terribly during the following century from the persecution of the Catholics. Thirteen of its members lost their life by the sword and the axe, and only two were saved ; one of whom rose to high military dignity in France. The other again entered the Swedish army, and was badly wounded in the battle of Lutzen. He came then to Sweden, where he bought large estates having become very wealthy by his marriage with a Dutch lady, of immense riches. He had several children, all of whom became distinguished by high positions and wealth, as well as by noble traits of character. " Dr. Hebbe s grandfather married a Grecian lady of wonder ful beauty, whose only daughter became afterwards, grand governess of the children of the unfortunate king, Gustavus OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 1C5 Adolphus IV., of Sweden. His father distinguished himself in the service of France was severely wounded; married an Italian lady, and was reputed to be one of the most learned men of Europe. " Dr. Hebbe received a most accomplished education, and graduated with the greatest distinction at the celebrated University of Upsala, in Sweden, arid became soon known as one of the most liberal minded men of his country. He visited many parts of the Orient world, and became, in a few years, known as the author of many of the most powerful political articles in several continental papers. He had, meanwhile, married a young lady of much genius and extra ordinary mental abilities and discharged, several times, the honorable duties of a judge, and became very popular. He was an intimate friend of the chief leaders of the opposition at the Swedish Diet, and was the chief instrument in defeat ing the attempt of the king to extend his royal prerogatives. His administrative qualities recommended him, however, to the attention of the king, who offered him the management of all his private affairs and his immense landed property ; but this offer was most respectfully declined by Dr., or rather, Judge Hebbe, who was soon found to be one of the leaders in the revolutionary movement, which took place in 1838, and which led to the imprisonment of Judge Cresenstolpe and some other of the leaders, and the exile of Judge Hebbe and some others. "In 1843, Dr. Hebbe arrived in this country, where he soon became distinguished as the ablest political writer, in that 166 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND then widely circulating periodical, called the New World, and as author of several political pamphlets, and as the accom plished translator of many of the finest works of fiction of the day. In 1848, he began the publication of his great * Universal History, which has stamped him as a man of the most profound learning, the deepest philosophical mind, and the highest order of literary genius. This work will embrace twenty volumes, and has already cost its eloquent and high- minded author more than fifteen years of incredible labor. " Dr. Hebbe is one of the ablest Democratic leaders, and it is generally conceded that he did more than any other man for the triumphant election of Mr. Pierce. He numbers, per haps, more warmly attached friends than any other man in this country; thanks to his affable manners and swest temper." OFF-HAND VTAKINGS. RUFUS CHOATE. RUFUS CHOATE is the Brougham of the Western World. He is not so profound a metaphysician nor so great a philoso pher as the English Lord; but he is equally eloquent, and there is more lightning in his oratory. When he speaks, his black eyes glow with electricity, his hair stands erect, as though his head were a galvanic battery, charging each individual hair with the subtile fluid. He is furious as a madman in his gestures, and not unfrequently tears his coat from the collar to the waist, when he becomes intensely excited. He walks from one end of the platform to the other, and swings his arms backwards and forwards as though he intended to take a leap into the middle of the room and land upon the heads of his hearers. If he ever should take a hop, step, and jump, in the midst of one of his orations, there would be danger of his tumbling down the throats of some of the gaping multitude, whose mouths are ever open to swallow every syllable ho utters. No wonder the people gape and gaze with such as tonishment and admiration, for he has such a beautiful gallery of pictures in the chambers of his imagination such an affluence of language so retentive a memory such varied learning such luminous eloquence and so eccentric a manner of delivery. Often, when he finishes a period in his most ener getic style, the listener involuntarily looks up to see if the fiery bolt just launched from his lips, has not raised the roof, or at 168 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND least gone through the ceiling. It is as difficult to report his speeches, as it would be to report the trumpetings of the storm, with the moaning wind, the pattering rain, the vivid lightnings and the crashing of the thunders. He begins like an eagle soaring from his eyrie, and continues his upward flight over the mountain tops, up higher and still higher, and higher still, with the clouds under his feet and a crown of o " stars about his head ; and when he descends, he shines like Moses coming down from the mountain, and like him, he breaks the Commandments when he finds the people worship ping the idol of another party. You may talk about torrents of eloquence he is the very Niagara of eloquence, with the silver spray, the effulgent bow, and the wasteless waters foam ing and flashing through a narrow channel of rocks. His speeches are brilliant with unmeasured poetry, and abound in attic wit, biting invective, glowing rhetoric, and " logic on fire." " He can hew out a Colossus from a rock, or carve heads on cherry stones." He is not a glancing stream, fettered with ice half the year ; but a magnificent and mighty river, run ning South ; and as he sweeps on, he swallows up allusions, quotations, figures, from Hesiod, and Homer, and Virgil, and Voltaire, and Shakspeare, and Milton, and Washington and Webster, still flowing on, " Like to the Pontic Sea, Whose current and compulsive course Never feels retiring ebb, but keeps right on To the Propontic and the Hellespont." To drop the figure and take up the fact, he has intensity of OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 169 purpose, and often allows his impulsiveness to control his judgment. Every great effort he makes at the Bar or on the rostrum, so excites his nervous system, that he cannot sleep sufficiently to satisfy the wants of his physical nature. But he is fond of fame and of money, and seems determined to keep up his reputation and his revenue ; consequently, his services are available when fair opportunities are afforded for the improvement of either. Yet he is not a mercenary man ; for, notwithstanding his vast practice, he has not secured a great fortune. His speeches sound better than they read. Indeed, it would not be gratifying to the vanity of him self or his numerous friends to pass his extemporaneous speeches through the crucible of criticism. He skips from one topic to another with the agility of a squirrel, a fact unnoticed amid the blaze of his surpassing eloquence, until the storm has passed by and the fever is over, and then we behold the best a reporter can do in the columns of the newspaper. Mr. Choate is a dark complexioned, thin, cadaverous look ing man, with keen black eyes, and a profusion of unkempt hair, of a glossy black hue. He is between forty and fifty years of age, and of a nervous bilious temperament. He is a conservative Whig of the Webster school, and has made eloquent speeches recently upon the leading political questions of the day. Mr. Choate is one of the most popular orators of modern times. We have abler lawyers in America, but the Bar has not a more brilliant and successful advocate, We have more experienced statesmen, but few serve their country with more fervid zeal. It is indeed a rich treat to 8 170 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND listen to the gorgeous words which drop from his lips like apples of gold in pictures of silver. We subjoin a specimen of his style of oratory, taken from a discourse, delivered before the Faculty, Students, and Alumni of Dartmouth College, on the day preceding Com mencement, July 27th, 1853, commemorative of Daniel Webster. RUFUS CHOATE ON DANIEL WEBSTER. " IT would be a strange neglect of a beautiful and approved custom of the schools of learning, and of one of the most pious and appropriate of the offices of literature, if the col lege in which the intellectual life of Daniel Webster began, and to which his name imparts charm and illustration, should give no formal expression to her grief in the common sorrow ; if she should not draw near, one of the most sad, in the procession of the bereaved, to the tomb at the sea, nor find, in her classic shades, one affectionate and grateful leaf to set in the garland with which they have bound the brow of her child, the mightiest departed. Others mourn and praise him by his more distant and more general titles to fame and remem brance ; his supremacy of intellect, his statesmanship of so many years, his eloquence of reason and of the heart, his love of country, incorruptible, conscientious, and ruling every hour and act; that greatness combined of genius, of character, of manner, of place, of achievement, which was just now among us, and is not, and yet lives still and evermore. You come, his cherishing mother, to own a closer tie, to indulge OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 17 1 an emotion more personal and more fond grief and exulta tion contending for mastery, as in the bosom of the desolated parent, whose tears could not hinder him from exclaiming. I would not exchange my dead son for any living one of Christendom. **-:* ; With prospects bright, upon the world he came Pure love of virtue, strong desire of fame; Men watched the way his lofty mind would take. And all foretold the progress he would make. " And yet, if on some day as that season was drawing to its close, it had been foretold to him, that before his life prolonged to little more than threescore years and ten should end, he should see that country, in which he was coming to act his part, expanded across a continent; the thirteen states of 1801 multiplied to thirty-one; the territory of the Northwest and the great valley below sown full of those stars of empire ; the Mississippi forded, and the Sabine, and Rio Grande, and the Nueces; the ponderous gates of the Rocky Mountains opened to shut no more ; the great tranquil sea become our sea ; her area seven times larger, her people five times more in number ; that through all experiences of trial, the madness of party, the injustice of foreign powers, the vast enlargement of her borders, the antagonisms of inte rior interest and feeling the spirit of nationality would grow stronger still and more plastic; that the tide of American feeling would run ever fuller; that her agriculture would grow more scientific ; her arts more various and instructed, 172 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND and better rewarded ; her commerce winged to a wider and still wider flight ; that the part she would play in human affairs would grow nobler ever, and more recognised ; that in this vast growth of national greatness time would be found for the higher necessities of the soul ; that her popular and her higher education would go on advancing; that her charities and all her enterprises of philanthropy would go on enlarging ; that her age of lettered glory would find its aus picious dawn : and then it had been also foretold him that even so, with her grace and strength, should his fame grow and be established and cherished, there where she should garner up her heart ; that by long gradations of service and labor ho should rise to be, before he should taste of death, of the peer less among her great ones ; that he should win the double honor, and wear the double wreath of professional and public supremacy ; that he should become her wisest to counsel and her most eloquent to persuade ; that he should come to be called the Defender of the Constitution and the preserver of honorable peace ; that the austere glory of suffering to save the Union should be his ; that his death, at the summit of greatness, on the verge of a ripe and venerable age, should be distinguished, less by the flags at half-mast on ocean and lake, less by the minute-gun, less by the public procession, and the appointed eulogy, than by the sudden paleness overspreading all faces, by gushing tears, by sorrow, thoughtful, boding, silent, the sense of desolateness, as if renown and grace were dead ; as if the hunter s path, and the sailor s in the great solitude of wilderness or sea, henceforward were more lonely OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 173 and less safe than before ; had this prediction been whispered, how calmly had that perfect sobriety of mind put it all aside as a pernicious or idle dream ! Yet, in the fulfilment of that prediction is told the remaining story of his life. ***** " But it is time that the eulogy was spoken. My heart goes back into the coffin there with him, and I would pause, I went, it is a day or two since, alone, to see again the home which he so dearly loved, the chamber where he died, the grave in which they laid him, all habited as when His look drew audience still as night, Or summer s noontide air, till the heavens be no more. Throughout that spacious and calm scene all things to the eye showed at first unchanged. The books in the library, the portraits, the table at which he wrote, the scientific culture of the land, the course of agricul tural occupation, the coming in of harvests, fruit of the seed his own hand had scattered, the animals and implements of husbandry, the trees planted by him in lines, in copses, in orchards, by thousands, the seat under the noble elm on which he used to sit to feel the southwest wind at evening, or hear the breathings of the sea, or the not less audible music of the starry heavens, all seemed at first unchanged. The sun of a bright day, from which, however, something of the fervors of mid-summer were wanting, fell temperately on them all, filled the air on all sides with the utterances of life, and gleamed on the long line of ocean. Some of those whom on earth he 174 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND loved best, still were there. The great mind still seemed to preside ; the great presence to be with you. You might expect to hear again the rich and playful tones of the voice of the old hospitality. Yet a moment more, and all the scene took on the aspect of one great monument, inscribed with his name, and sacred to his memory. And such it shall be in all the future of America ! The sensation of desolate- ness, and loneliness, and darkness with which you see it now will pass away ; the sharp grief of love and friendship will become soothed ; men will repair thither, as they are wont to commemorate the great days of history ; the same glance shall take in, and the same emotions shall greet and bless the Harbor of the Pilgrims and the Tomb of Webster." OFF-HAND TAKINGS. HORACE MANN. THE name and fame of the distinguished subject of this sketch are world-wide. He is known, honored, and appre ciated as the promoter of education and the defender of the oppressed. The mantle dropped by the lamented Adams sits gracefully upon his shoulders. He is eminent as a writer, a speaker, a scholar, and a statesman. His essays and his speeches command the attention and win the admiration of all who read or hear them. He never fails to get the eyes and ears, if not the hearts, of his hearers, whether they be little children in a common school, or larger ones in Congress. He is a prophet who hath honor in his own and other coun tries. The first time the writer saw him, was at the opening of a primary school in Boston. Several prominent men had spoken to the children present, in unintelligible language ; in fact, they spoke to the youths as they were accustomed to speak to adults. By-and-by, a tall, thin, graceful man, with a high forehead and silvery hair, arose in one corner of the room, and in a familiar manner asked the children to let him see their red lips and bright eyes. In a moment a sea of sunny faces was turned toward him. He told them to perse vere in the acquisition of knowledge, and asked them if they ever saw a honey-bee go out from its hive on a May morning in pursuit of its sweets. They said they had seen the bee on his tour among the flowers. " Now," continued the speaker, 176 CRAYON SKETCHES, ANE " when he comes from the leaves he does not bring a whole hive on his back, but he flies home with a little at a time. You must copy the example of the bees, and gather the sweets of knowledge from book leaves, as they gather honey from flower leaves." The children were intensely interested in his stories, comparisons, allusions, and admonitions. The next time I saw this prominent and popular MANN, was at the dedication of a grammar school in Boston. Many of the first citizens were present, and listened with delight to his extemporaneous and appropriate speech. His tongue is like the pen of a ready writer. It costs him little or no effort to round a period handsomely, or polish a sentence until it becomes transparent with beauty, and as for grammatical inaccuracies, even in his impromptu efforts, they are out of the question. Last winter he delivered the introductory lec ture before the Mercantile Library Association. Tremont Temple was packed, from the orchestra to the entrance. Many persons were obliged to leave the crowded doors for want of accommodation. After the usual preliminaries, the orator appeared on the platform and was warmly greeted by the vast audience. He commenced at once by leaping, at a single bound, into the middle of his lecture, and he addressed the young merchants in a strain of surpassing power and elo quence. The last survivor of that large assembly cannot outlive the impression that masterly effort made on every appreciating mind. He spoke forcibly, rapidly, emphatically. Wit, humor, pathos, irony, argument, flowed from his lips as freely as water from an unfailing fountain. Those who carry OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 177 their souls in the sacks of their stomachs, and those who carry their hearts in their breeches-pockets, were shown up as Mar shal Tu&ey exhibits the light-fingered gentlemen who some times visit the City of Notions. He did not spare the wine- bottle nor the tobacco-box, the coffee-pot nor the tea-kettle. He pronounced woes against those who will not breathe pure air, and drink cold water, and eat plain food, and sleep on hard beds in ventilated rooms. He has a stout heart and a strong hand, and the whip he holds over the backs of glut tons and imbibers has a silver lash and a golden handle, and although every blow reaches the red, the wounded and the whipped save their lamentations for the secret chamber where they sit upon the stool of repentance. If it be true that New England is farther from perdition and nearer paradise than any other portion of America, it is owing to the superiority of her public schools. Horace Mann has done more than any other person to elevate the educa tional advantages of New England. His praise is in all the schools. His system of instruction is almost universally adopted. The moral atmosphere of Washington is sure to spoil the principles of some men whom the multitude delight to honor. Not so with Horace Mann. He does not wear a double face. He does not blow hot and cold in the same breaj 1 ? - He does not amend, abridge, or alter his speeches to suit the latitude in which he lives. Even the Hercules of the senate, the mighty Expounder of the Constitution, has felt the weight of his arm, and staggered under the force of his blow Horace Mann not only goes for free soil and free men, but foi 8* 1^8 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND free air and the free use of cold water. He is liberal-minded; generous-hearted, dignified in his deportment, genteel in his address, and his character is like Caesar s wife, above suspicion. He is not only admired, but really beloved, by his friends, acquaintances, and constituents. He has a classical face and forehead.. The organ of benevolence is prominently developed, as are the organs of causality, comparison, ideality, and sublimity. He is a poet, although he may not have exhibited any symptoms of that sort in rhyme. In his happiest efforts before an audience, he often leads them high up the mountain so that they may see the promised land where the nations shall dwell in the good time coming. Mr. Mann is a cogent reasoner, a deep thinker, a ready debater, an elegant writer, a splendid speaker. There is a lit tle lisping impediment on his tongue until he becomes excited. Anti-progress men cannot bribe him, nor scare him, nor gag him, nor cope with him at the press, or in the forum. He is remarkable for his originality, and his ideas are like pictures painted on glass, by those ancients who had the art, now lost, of making the colors penetrate the surface so that the object appeared as vividly on one side as the other. He may be called a "proverbial philosopher," a prose poet, a sayer as well as a doer of good things. Some of the " old liners " in literature and theology, do not approve his liberal sentiments. They have not the courage to assail him openly, but they damn him with faint praise in private circles. He is apt to indulge a taste for alliteration. It is almost the only blemish OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 179 in his essays and speeches. There is no man in New England so well qualified in every respect to occupy the post of honoi and duty rendered vacant by the death of John Quincy Adams, as he. Mrs. Jane Swisshelm has the following in one of her inirm table sketches : HON. HORACE MANN. " The people of the district of the old man eloquent cer tainly did a very becoming thing when they sent Horace Mann to take his place in the House of Representatives. One does not feel that he, or any other man, can Jill the place of John Quincy Adams ; but in looking at Horace Mann, we felt it was becomingly occupied. In the general characteris tics of personal appearance, he is strikingly like our neighbor, Hon. William Wilkins tall, erect, and thin, with hair of that singular whiteness which shows the premature bleaching of care or sorrow. It is said that his hair turned thus in twenty- four hours after the death of his wife. He afterwards married Miss Peabody, a sister to the wife of Hawthorne, author of the Scarlet Letter. His movements show a large amount of muscular energy and activity, but the most remarkable fea ture in his personal appearance is that singular transparency of complexion, and that uncommon cleanliness, that gives one a kind of spiritual look. He has long been a warm public advocate of a plentiful use of fresh air and pure water, or a physiological education, as necessary to develope the natural powers of the mind ; and he certainly is a good example of 180 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND the system. To look in his face, you would not dream his brain was ever clouded with impure humors, and you Ipok not on, but into his face, through the clear white skin, for the spirit within. His conversational powers we have seldom seen equalled. One is attracted, fascinated by the steadfastness of his gaze, and the information to be gained by his rapid con versation. Yet our sensations, while listening to him, were not all pleasurable. His eye has that piercing expression which is so often described as looking one through and through, and we did not choose to have him read on our withered brow, a record of all the cups of tea we had drank. Then his enunciation of every one of his rapidly spoken words is so very correct, and the rendering of his sentences so very perfect, that it made the contrast of our blundering answers somewhat mortifying. " His affections must be of the strongest class, but they are not apparent to a stranger. His appearance is that of a half- disembodied intelligence of a superior order. We never saw an old man for whom we had so much respect and admira tion, with so little affection ; but then he looks as if he could not get the gout or the rheumatism, or the bilious fever, and nothing about him appeals to one s pity ; so he has no occa* sion to be loved by any but the few he loves. He has none of that broad, good-humored smile, that invites the love of all the world, and promises an ample return. His smile is as dis criminating as his look is penetrating, and shows that his heart is approached through his reason; that he loves but few, and loves them passing well. His stock of information OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 181 is very large and very accurate, for on almost any subject of general interest, he is ready, at a moment s warning, to give you the general view and the minute details ; but education, education for all, is the topic he loves best, and he can give one clearer views of its importance in fifteen minutes talking, than can be obtained from reading a dozen respectable essays on the subject. We should rather listen to his talk, than any one whom we have ever heard lecture on education. Any one visiting Washington may know him without the trouble of pointing out. He is the tall, straight, thin gentleman, with the clean face, white hair, gold-rimmed spectacles, blact clothes, and firm, quick motions." 182 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND REV. DOCTOR BOARDMAN. THE Rev. Dr. Boardman preaches in a neat and beautiful church in Walnut street, Philadelphia ; the building will seat about a thousand persons, has galleries on three sides, a hand some pulpit, trimmed with red silk velvet, pews wide, well- cushioned and accessible. The only opportunity I had to hear the celebrated preacher and author who has occupied, for fifteen years, his present post of honor and duty and responsibility, was on my home return from Washington, when he delivered one of his inimitable and eloquent lectures to the merchants of Philadelphia. Some of the solid men of the Quaker city were present. The house, a spacious one, was so crowded it was with difficulty the preacher wedged his way to the pulpit. Scores went away, unable to obtain even a standee good evidence that the Doctor "wears well," that he has not "run out," that he is still popular. He read the opening hymn in a clear, distinct, manly voice. The hymn was well sung by a thoroughly disciplined choir. Good singing is one of the most attractive and delightful features of public worship it is the language of heaven the dialect of angels. It seems to give us "the sense of wings " on \\hich we float sky-ward. Who ever heard of a vile deed being done immediately after OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 183 singing a sacred song? Here the congregation joins with the choir in singing; this is surely much better than being happy by proxy. After singing, the preacher read a chapter giving Solomon s opinion of a virtuous woman. The prayer which followed was fervid, honest, and impressive. The text was from the writings of Solomon, " many women have done virtuously," an eloquent extract from the Merchant s Magazine followed ; it was written by a lady who complains of her lord because of his neglect. The speaker regrets that he cannot deny the grave imputations brought against merchants who allow themselves to be so submerged in business they seem to forget their families. But I intend to sketch persons and not sermons. The Rev. Doctor Boardman has a good voice. It is mellow, with a gentle grate and quaver in it, which seems to leave his peculiar mark on the word he utters. His gesticulation is graceful, natural, and emphatic. The peculiar manner in which he " fixes " his eyes upon his hearers and the way in which his lips come together, when he has concluded a sentence, (he desires to be pondered and remembered,) and the manner in which he throws his face forward, as he does occasionally, gives the idea that his words are arrows from a shaft stronger than steel, that hit the heart of the appreciating hearer. His matter is solid not heavy, sprightly not light, practical not mechanical, classical not cobwebish, it is philosophical, argu mentative, and scriptural. Such matter as any sensible man may hear day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, and never suffer a surfeit, or starve for lack of 184 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND spiritual food. There is no need of making points to keep up the interest, no need of his using spice to sharpen the appe tite. When he is severe his sarcasm cuts like a lancet. He is not a subtle metaphysician, not a prating pedant not a noisy bunkum declaimer. He has a strong clear intellect, and common sense of that uncommon quality which is closely allied to genius. He is well educated, and what he knows he knows thoroughly, and has complete mastery of the stock of wisdom always on hand. His language is now strong, now soft, now bold, now beautiful. His sarcasm is refined, compact, steeped in humor, and spiced with irony. He has many brilliant qualities, often breaking forth in bursts of kindling magnificence. He is generally moderate, some- times vehement, always majestic, commanding the attention, impressing the impartial, and overawing the sceptical. His sermons are his own, not copies, not echoes, not shadows, but real transcripts of his own heart and brain ; shining here and there with lucidus ordo. His sentences are so perfectly finished they are fit for the reviewer as they fall from his lips. He was rather uncivil to the ladies who lead the Woman s Rights party, declaring they were Amazonians quarreling with Providence for creating them women instead of creating them men. In person he is rather tall, well formed, has dark brown hair, carelessly pushed back from a noble, prominent forehead ; has an oval face, blue eyes (I think), straight nose, thin, may I say literary, lips, dresses in a most unministerial manner, with a black neck tie in place of the white cravat. He is upwards of forty years of age. Long life to him and may he OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 185 always have the grace, the gift, and the courage to rebuke evii in whatever latitude it may exist, whatever alias it may assume ; may he not be too timid to call it hard names and grapple with it, forgetting fame, knowing nothing but Christ and him crucified. 186 CTJAYON SKETCITF.8, AND SOLON ROBINSON THE noise in the world which " Hot Corn" has made, and is still making, may cause, in some of our readers, curiosity to know something respecting its author, whose personal appear ance has been dimly shadowed forth in the posting bills of that popular book. We therefore add Solon Robinson to our Gallery of the Noticeables of America. To the readers of agricultural journals the name of Solon Robinson has been as familiar as any other household word for twenty years, and to many of them his face and general appearance are familiar ; but a more particular acquaintance will be none the less acceptable to those who have seen him than to those who have not, while to the purchasers of fifty thousand volumes of his first book, who have had a glance at his appearance as indicated in the rough wood-cut of the " poster" before alluded to, the present pen-sketch may be par ticularly acceptable. In personal appearance, as seen in the street, Mr. Robinson looks like an old man ; his head is gray, and his beard, which he wears long, is entirely white. He is six feet high stoop- shouldered long-limbed has an awkward gait, walks with a long stride and always with a cane, and is not overwell dressed. He generally wears black, and sports a Quaker-looking hat, generally " the worse for wear." A stranger would suppose, to see him pass rapidly through OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 187 the thronged streets of New York, that he saw nothing but his boots, yet few of the quick young eyes of the crowd see more than he does, for he searches to the very bottom of everything, and penetrates all with a mere glance. Solon Robinson is a true specimen of Yankee character, and possesses great versatility of talent. He could build a ship or a log-cabin write a philippic or a sermon " set the table in a roar," or draw tears from a " full house." His nature is an odd compound^ of seriousness and mirth. His voice is soft enough for a parlor and quiet conversation, or full, clear, and distinct enough, when he speaks in the open air, for thousands of people to hear him. His eyes are blue, but very sharp ; his hair was of a soft dark brown, and skin fair, in all of which he resembles his mother, as well as in form and stature. His nature is truthful and candid if he likes you, you will know it if he does not, you will not long remain in doubt as to the fact. He is too plain and blunt ever to be personally popular. The vicious will always hate him. Those who read his book will see that he is no friend to Vice, particularly that which makes the world vicious the Rum Traffic. His aim is to build up (not to pull down) society to his own level. His versatility of talent has surprised a good many people. They have wondered that a man who could write so well upon farming, could give such graphic reports as he does every week of the cattle and horse markets of New York, should also have the power to draw tears from the million with the story of "Little Katy." They think, perhaps, as one did of old, " How can he get wisdom that holdeth the plow, and that 188 CRAYOV fiKK ^H^S AXD glorieth in the goad, that driveth oxen, and is occupied in theii labors, and whose talk is of bullocks ; who giveth his mind to make furrows, and is diligent to give the kine fodder." Yet the subject of this sketch has got all the wisdom he possesses, amid just such scenes and occupations, for he was born and has always lived amid the green fields, and has fol lowed after the plow and led the kine until within a few years past, and has not- yet done talking of bullocks, having made the reports of the New York Cattle Market a prominent feature in the Tribune. Solon Robinson was born October 21st, 1803, about a mile south of the village of Tolland, Connecticut. His father, whose name was Jacob, the son and grandson of Jacob, and lineal descendant of James, the Puritan, whose son came over with the Pilgrims, was born in Scotland parish, a few miles east of the scene of the great bull-frog fight, or fright, which has made their native town of Windham wide-world renowned. Solon s mother was Salinda Ladd, of Coventry. His father, a small farmer on the hard lands of that part of the state, and a cooper, died when Solon, the fourth son, was about six years old, and his mother, who had one son a week after her hus band s death, found herself, as many a widow has, obliged to sell everything to pay debts, and to put her boys out to places with farmers, who would teach them to hold the plow and talk of bullocks. After a second marriage, and a sixth son, she died, and his three eldest brothers subsequently, with a similar pulmonary complaint. Solon, himself, has several times been " given up OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 189 by the doctors" with the same complaint. Once he was cured by electricity once by cold water. His education was just such as might be expected in the old school house, at the corner of the cross roads, where he attended at irregular intervals. At fourteen he closed this course of study with ability to spell the hard words of Noah Webster s spelling-book and to write his name in a good round hand. After that he went to learn the trade of a carpenter; hia master found him exceedingly useful when an old roof was to be mended or a new one built. This work he was com pelled to quit because he had not sufficient strength, but the knowledge gained by it he found very useful in after life, especially during his log-cabin experiences in the West. He then, like many other Yankee boys went peddling, and after many and various other avocations wrote some graphic papers in the Albany Cultivator, which attracted much atten tion. For several years he has been connected with the press in the city of New York, and is now the associate, on the Tribune, of Horace Greeley and C. A. Dana. Of the former it is needless to say anything in praise, and scarcely is it so of Mr. Dana, who is one of the most accomp lished of American editors, and who has done much to raise the Tribune to its present high position. The Hot, Corn stories have made their author a celebrity, and with Mrs. Stowe, and a few more favored writers, Solon Robinson enjoys a reputation more extensive, perhaps, than that of any othei living sketcher of men and manners. 190 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND JOHN ROSS DIX Is one of the most fluent and forcible writers in America, and having made his mark on the present age by the produc tions of his classic pen, I will endeavor to gratify the general reader by inserting the following " off-hand " sketch, which was written by me for an editorial friend at a time when family afflictions incapacitated him for superintending the management of his paper. Mr. Dix is a native of Bristol England, and now editor of the " Waverley Magazine," pub lished in Boston : In this issue of our paper we close the interesting series of articles entitled " Passages from the History of a "Wasted Life." They have been to the " Life Boat " what the thrilling tale of "Uncle Tom s Cabin" was to the "National Era? Our readers will be delighted to know that our enterprising and excellent fellow-townsman, B. B. Mussey Esq., has made arrangements with the distinguished author of this truthful narrative to publish it forthwith, so that its appreciating admirers, and others, may have it in a more beautiful and a less ephemeral form. During the many years A hat we have been connected with the press, nothing has appeared in the columns of our Temperance Jouinals, whose melting pathos, sparkling poetry, earnest air, and laughing humor, have OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 191 created such a sensation in the great circle of Temperance readers. The magnificent poem entitled "To-Morrow," which appeared in last week s paper, is a perfect gem ; and stamps its author as a man of rare genius. Indeed, there is so much feeling and passion in these lines, we seem to feel the pulsa tions of the heart out of which they throbbed and see the radiant light of the cultured brain that conceived them. It is not a matter of astonishment that such an eminent man as Lucius M. Sargent, who stands at the head of Tem perance literature in this country, should volunteer his approval of the work in question. From all quarters the same verdict is rendered by disinterested parties ; even the enemies of our common cause admire the thrilling style and truthful history of our author. Here it may not be amiss to say, that this inimitable series of sketches is not the maiden- effort of our highly esteemed friend and correspondent. His prolific pen, like a match ignited by friction, has blazed through many folios. He is the author of the " Pen and Ink Sketches" "Loiterings in and about Boston " " Life of John B. Gough " " Pen Portraits of English Preachers," and per haps a dozen other different works. Doubtless, our readers would be gratified with a personal sketch of one, in whose remarkable history they have been so intensely interested. We were on the point of mentioning his name ; but, as we are not authorized to take that liberty, we will proceed by saying, our author is a well-formed man of common stature rather slender of the nervous bilious 192 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND temperament has black curly hair a handsomely developed forehead a nose that would have suited Napoleon and his pale classic face is lit up with a pair of black eyes, in which nis soul shines like a star in the firmament. He is very sensitive and nervous ; when excited, he cannot maintain his seat a minute, but moves about quickly, as though he would twitch his limbs from their ligaments. At such times he has a habit of shutting and opening his eyes rapidly, while light flashes from them, like lightning from a summer cloud. He dresses neatly, not foppishly ; has the air of a well-bred gentleman ; converses fluently, is acquainted personally with most of our literary lions on both sides of the Atlantic ; reads much and in addition to his literary and scientific attainments, has a large stock of general knowledge. He is a regular apothecary and surgeon ; and has been editor of a journal in England. His style is peculiar to himself; clear, graphic, eloquent, and original. At some future time we may write a criticism on that subject ; at present we will add but a word or two by way of urging our readers to procure an early copy of " Passages from the History of a Wasted Life." His style reminds one of De Quincy somewhat there is in it the same bonhommie and graphic energy the same manly courage which dares to utter the truth in plain Saxon words, which are strong as " hooks of steel." He never " glories in his shame," but like the author of the " Opium Eater," tells his story frankly, that his experience may be a lesson and a warning to others. His " Life of Chatterton," the boy-poet, although one of his earliest efforts, is full of memorable pas- OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 193 sages. His miscellaneous writings, to be found in the periodi cal literature of the day, would make a volume which would be a valuable acquisition to any library. Those who are familiar with the productions of his pen, must have admired his chatty, sketchy, dashing way of word painting. He writes rapidly, and seldom re-touches his most elaborate essays and their smoothness is not to be attributed to the file and polisher, but to the fine texture of the natural enamel. Owing to his intuitive and quick habit of thought, and the entire command he has acquired over his intellectual resources, he is ever ready at a moment s warning to write a " leader " for a newspaper, a lyric for an annual, or an essay for the most fastidious review. The autobiography of John B. Gough, which has been scattered broadcast over the American Con tinent, and republished in Europe, was written by him in a single week. We have not space in the present crowded columns of our little sheet, to amplify on a theme which deserves more space and an abler pen. Here is the beautiful poem alluded to, with a preface from his own pen ; I clip it from one of the passages of his history. " Before I more particularly allude to this residence of mine in Chambers, I may, perhaps, as an indication of the morbid condition of my mind at this period, be permitted to present the reader with a copy of some verses, written at midnight, during a fit of deep despondency. No one has a more thorough contempt than myself for occasional verses, made to order ; and I trust the reader will not suspect that these 9 194 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND were written to gratify a stupid vanity. They were penned one dreary night, in a bare room, almost within the shadow of the towers of Westminster Abbey, the great bell of which was booming twelve o clock over the wilderness of London, whose dull mysterious roar sounded even then. TO-MORROW. SWEET day from whose perpetual dawn Half of Life s little light we borrow ; Veil of the future yet undrawn ! Hope s own blue beautiful To-MoRROW ! Day ever rising never risen ! Time ever coming never come ! Thou, who dost paint the soul s dim prison With landscapes of Elysium, Still peeps thy morning-star behind, Though sorrowful TO-DAY is glooming; And o er the vexed, tempestuous mind, The thunder-peals of thought are booming ! When the heart to its black depths is stirred, Still, in each pause of raging sorrow, A Voice, a soft, blest Voice is heard ! Tis thine the sky-lark of Hope s heaven, To-MoRROW f What hoards of Happiness to be, Lie somewhere in thy secret keeping ! Aye keeps, as keeps a sunny sea The rich wrecks in its bosom sleeping ! Yet, blest in but expected pleasures, Earth s millions wait, and watch thy dawn: As well the owners of those treasures Might wait to see the deep gulf yawn, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. And give them back their gold ! Oh ! when That burial-vault of wealth shall ope, Then shall the soul and not till then, Unfold the landscape of thy dream, oh ! Hope 1 Like some bright host with untried powers, Bright, marching in the morning sun, Started TO-!)AY, with all its Hours, Prepared a bright career to run ; Like that lost army, madly strewing The battle field ere day is done From all that field s dumb death and ruin, But one voice heard, and that a dying one ; Such this TO-DAY S last hours now taking flight, With all their hopes and aims and prospects bright, And purposes sublime, to everlasting Night ! Then, wherefore hail a Day new-born, As though, upon its soundless wing, Some dove unto life s Ark forlorn The olive branch of Peace might bring? No Eden Bird this bosom s emblem ! The stormy Petrel s mine might form, That builds no nest, but fluttering trembling, Lives out at sea, and fights the storm ! Screaming its sad song o er the abyss, Heard but by men distressed : as this, Lost on the world s dull ear, may reach lone misery**. 196 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND The following, from the pen of Mr. Dix, has never before appeared in print. While it affords a specimen of our author s style, it cannot fail to interest the reader. it A PAIR OF ROMISH PORTRAITS. FATHER GAVAZZI AND CARDINAL WISEMAN. "Travel, with us, reader, to the Princess Concert Hall, for in that spacious and splendid Hall, a famous Monk is about to lecture on the abuses of the Roman Catholic Church. Light is about to be emitted from a dark church lantern. The Canon Laws and Papal Usurpation is to be the subject of the oration. Look at that swarthy man, on the platform, whose fine figure is draped in the flowing robes of his religious order ; a cross being worked on the left breast. Look at his broad forehead, his dark, glancing, half-sinister eyes, and listen to his magnificent voice. The Concert Room is as crowded, as if Jenny Lind were to sing, for here is a mighty gathering of exiles and patriots of every grade. There is Mazzini, tall and gaunt, with his olive-complexioned face, large melancholy eyes, and fine head ; and others, of lesser note, are to be seen in the crowd of brave men and fair women. All these are attracted not less by sympathy for suffering humanity than by the exquisite beauty of Italy s language, embellished by the splendid delivery of the monk. Members of the House of Commons muster in great force ; and, indeed, all intellectual London has its representatives present at the Hall. *ravazzi commenced his oration. At first his tones were OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 197 low and solemn, gradually he warmed up with his theme, and then, with amazing vigor he poured forth a rushing tide of eloquence. Satire, sarcasm, invective, pathos, sublimity, antf piety followed each other in rapid succession. His forn dilated, and his eyes flashed, as he denounced the rascalities of Popery, and his garments, flowing in the wind of stormy applause, rendered his appearance highly picturesque. He evidently made his expose with a gusto ; after any point he would partially stoop, lean forward, clap his hands, and a triumphant smile would play on his features. The enthusiasm which for two hours pervaded the assembly, and which the vigorous declamation of the orator, never allowed to flag for a moment, found frequent utterance in the most energetic bursts of uproarious applause. It would require so fluent was he a regular staff of stenographers to fairly report a speech of Father Gavazzi, for the eloquence of the monk is of a higher and different order than that which the gallery men of the great legislative assemblies usually have to do with." ****** Here is a sketch from the life of Cardinal Wiseman : " Slowly, and with an air which some might mistake for dig nity, and which it is very possible was meant to express it, came on the prime emissary of the Vatican. Before him was one official bearing a lofty triple, gilded cross, and a second carry ing a magnificent crosier ; and on either side of the " proud prelate " slowly walked two priests, in amber-colored robes, richly braided with gold, supporting his train. With tall 198 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND robust form, towering above these appeared Cardinal Wiseman. He was superbly clothed ; on his head pressed a mitre, all glistening with gold and jewels ; a robe of amber colors, pro fusely decorated with gold embroidery, and on the back embroidered with a gorgeously wrought cross, enveloped his portly frame ; and from beneath the rustling garment appeared trowsers (profanely so to speak) of white satin, glistening with gold spangles, and white satin shoes also spangled with auriferous ornaments; his great, fat hands were enclosed in white gloves, elaborately embroidered, and over these were rings of dazzling lustre but conspicuous among all was the large Episcopal signet, which appeared gloomy and grim among its sparkling companion-gems, like the dark church of which it was a symbol, when compared with that of a simpler but a far purer and more resplendent faith. Shade of Wolsey ! we mentally exclaimed, as we gazed on the new Cardinal, can the priest upon whom we gaze be the man who has set Protestant London at defiance? Is that vulgar, coarse, and sensual-looking individual, the head of the Catholic Church in Britain ? The universal homage that was paid him as he slowly paced the aisles of St. George s Cathedral presented us with an affirmative reply. Engrave 1 "BjJ.C Entire OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 199 j P. T. BARNUM. P. T. BARNUM, the chief caterer for the amusements of the million, the prince of showmen, the curiosity king, the ex-editor, ex-school teacher, ex-clerk, ex-merchant, is one of the most remarkable men of any age in any country, and my book would be incomplete without some allusion to his wonderful energy and successful enterprise. He has been regarded by multitudes as a strange something, part humbug, part human, part Hercules. At present he is the proprietor of the American Museum, and one of the sleeping, but not one of the sleepy, partners of the firm which controls the New York Illustrated News. He is a writer of more than medio cre ability, and he ranks high as a platform speaker, while his financiering skill is unsurpassed even among Yankees. Whatever he touches turns to gold, whether it be Joice Heth, or Jenny Lind, Tom Thumb, or a pair of giants. For his generous efforts in assisting the unfortunate and aiding young beginners, he has endeared himself to many recipients of his bountiful benevolence ; for his disinterested labors to promote the temperance cause, he deserves the gratitude and admira tion of our race ; at his own expense he has travelled and toiled, week after week, in the face of obloquy and opposition, to secure the advancement of a glorious reform which is identv 200 CRAYON SKETCHES^ AND fied with the happiness of every member of the human family. Barnum is a man and not a humbug. He is an extraordinary man, he is a great man. See with what tact, boldness, and practical good common sense he managed the Jenny Lind affair : did he not deserve the princely profit he received from his well directed efforts to secure the services of the queen of song, and the admirable manner in which he carried out his well directed plans ? It was risk enough for a corporation to hazard, and required as much enterprise as a community possesses to execute the arrangements after they had been made. With what Napoleonic energy, and superior generalship did he foil the attempt made to decoy the bird from his hands after he had caught it from the bush ; what a knowledge of human nature has he displayed in the tact and skill with which he has brought out cunning contrivances for the entertainment of the curious. Now he shows a "fictitious" nurse of Washing ton, now a mermaid, half cod-fish and half monkey, manu factured more to please than to deceive the public, now an amiable and handsome dwarf, is exhibited in the presence of the Queen and nobility of England. Now, for the sake of notoriety, he calls himself a humbug, and the cry is echoed by the press all over the Union. But he always gave his patrons their money s worth of amusement, and it cannot be proved that he ever received the price of a ticket " under false pretences ;" that Joice Heth was not 163 years of age has never been proved, that the mer maid which is now in the Boston Museum was not the creature OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 201 it purported to be was no fault of his. If it is not a natural ii is a mechanical curiosity. The woolley horse was a natural curiosity, for which he paid the sum of five hundred dollars. Barnum is a shrewd man, who has the art and mystery of making large sums of money in a short time, and then he has the magnanimity to distribute it unostentatiously among those who will make wise appropriations of it. He is a scheming speculative man, but far removed from selfishness, and would never sacrifice nor deny his principles to obtain place, or power, or fame, or fortune. He is a business man, and his rules for success in business, deserve to be written in gold, and preserved in frames of silver in every counting room, work-shop, foundry, and factory, and dwelling, in the land. He is a gentleman, polite not finical, courteous not affected, and truthful without dissimulation in his personal intercourse with his fellow men. He is a philanthropist. Where is the man who gives more generously, and makes less parade about it ? In politics he is a cold water Democrat ; in religion he is a cold water Universalist. Mr. Barnum is a native of Danbury, Connecticut, and is now forty-three years of age. He is a fine-looking man, well formed and somewhat above the ordinary size and stature. He has a noble forehead, expressive eyes, and a mouth finely cut and indicative of decision and energy ; there is a mixture of mirthfulness,* shrewdness and benevolence in his counte- * While lecturing out West on the subject of temperance, some one in th Meeting cried out, " What shall we do with our surplus grain?" "w ee( j the starving wives and children of drunkards," replied Barnum. 202 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND nance, which comports with his character. He dresses neatly without much ornament, is very accessible, and treats even the humblest person with much kindness, and never cuts an old acquaintance in the hour of trial and misfortune. He is charitable and strictly honorable in all his business trans actions. He has a beautiful home, and is very happy in his domestic relations. One of his daughters was recently married. The following description of his residence will form a fitting close to this sketch. It comes from one of his own townsmen. P. T. BARNUM, AND HIS RESIDENCE. One of the first places which a stranger visits on coming here, is Iranistan, the residence of P. T. Barnum, proprietor of the American Museum and importer of heavenly minstrelsy into our unharmonious country. It stands upon a level plateau, about half a mile from the main street, a unique and mag nificent building, in the Oriental and Turkish style its wings, piazzas, galleries, pinnacles, and dome giving it a light and airy appearance. It is especially beautiful, when viewed by moonlight. The grounds are laid out in excellent taste, with the gardener s cottage, the green-houses and the stables built in a style of architecture corresponding sufficiently to that of the house, without being stiff copies of it, all disposed in the best manner for a pleasing general effect. The gates are con stantly thrown open, and, in pleasant weather, visitors may at almost any time be seen riding or walking through the grounds of this earthly paradise. Is it thus thrown open to OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 203 the public merely to gratify an ostentations pride ? I think not. It is a Sabbath evening, and the sun is just setting. Groups of gentlemen and ladies are threading the walks among the trees the hard-working mechanic with his wife and children, all dressed in their best, are sauntering over paths thickly strewed with tiny seashells, admiring the flowers and rare shrubs that border the walks, or throwing crumbs to the tame fishes in the fish-pond, or gazing at the rare exotics in the green-houses, and all enjoying the costly scene, as really, for the moment, as if it were their own. The proprietor, if he is at home, simply enjoys the innocent pleasure which his establishment affords the people, and I really believe, that if he were conditioned to hold it guarded with the exclusiveness which characterizes some of the snobbish aristocracy of our land, he would sooner burn it to the ground. But the chances are that, instead of being at home, stretched upon a luxurious sofa, this Sunday evening, he started in his buggy some hour or two since, to fulfil an appointment to lecture upon temperance in some country village, distant ten or fifteen miles. His heart is thoroughly interested in this reform, which, heaven knows, is unpopular enough in Connecticut, and he is constantly sacrificing his money and ease to promote it. Although unaccustomed to public speaking, his addresses tell upon an audience in a most effective manner. With many others, I was once accustomed to associate the name of Barnum with humbug, but the truth is, there is no humbug about the man Barnum. He may have taken th 204 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND advantage of the craving for humbugs, which is one of the passions of mankind, but he is a real man, with noble qualities and feelings and no humbug. He is proving in many ways that the public know nothing of, that he unites benevolence and enlarged views to his acknowledged business tact, talent, and enterprise. This latter has indeed been placed above all cavil by his engagement with the famed Swedish Nightingale ; for who in America could have given us Jenny Lind, but Barnum ? OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 205 DR. E. KANE. IT was announced that Dr. E. Kane, of Arctic Expedition notoriety, would lecture before the citizens of Boston, on Mon day evening, consequently an immense audience convened at an early hour to see and hear the intrepid traveller. While we were patiently waiting the arrival of the great tourist, a sudden outburst of applause advertised the arrival of a short, stout, fat, corpulent old gentleman, whose large round head was thickly covered with long dark hair, carefully parted in the middle and combed behind his ears. He had a low fore head, full, fat face, light inexpressive eyes, and his jaws seemed to cave in as though he had lost his teeth. He looked more like a Dutch ploughman from the valley of the Mohawk, than a learned lawyer, but it really was Chief Justice Shaw, the most distinguished jurist in Massachusetts. Another explosion of applause, and a slender man of average height, weighing perhaps one hundred and twenty-five pounds, walked gracefully toward the desk. It was the heroic adven turer, who has probably seen as much of the physical world as any living man of his age. He has black hair with a curl in it, carefully brushed aside, leaving one of his lofty temples 206 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND bare and concealing the other. His pale thin face is lit up with a pair of small round blue eyes, and his mouth is shaded with a short black moustache, which terminates in an impe rial ; his long nose indicates clearness of brain, and his earnest countenance denotes unfaltering integrity of purpose. His voice, though clear and flexible, has not sufficient volume and power to fill the great hall where he lectured . He extem porised nearly half the time, and spoke fluently and cor rectly. In his right hand he held a fish pole, with which he pointed to the diagrams on the wall in front of the audience. His lecture was the shortest of the season, and might have been made the most interesting one had he confined himself to the history of his search for Sir John Franklin, instead of giving us a geographical history of the North Pole. A report of a part of his lectuie, however, I am sure will be intensely interesting. " It is difficult," the lecturer remarked in opening, " as we look at a map of the world, to believe that all the world, save a very limited expanse, was wrapped in ignorance. Nor has that ignorance totally disappeared, for there are portions of the globe entirely unknown to the civilized world, and much exploration is needed to reveal vast regions, still hidden from the knowledge of man. The vicinity of the North Pole is among those portions yet to be explored. It is shut out from us by a vast barrier of ice. The early settlers of Iceland revealed an extension of ice far to the north. It was then shown to extend to Hudson and Baffin s Bays, and Captain Cook defined its existence in Behring s Straits. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 207 " Modern science has taught us to lay down the limits of this vast ice barrier, and to define the boundaries of a great polar continent. The ice barrier, commencing at Labrador, extends to that portion known as Lost Greenland, and then comes across the Atlantic to Spitzbergen, thence to Nova Zembla. On the northern coast of Russia it may further be traced, and also north of America, while whalers have found it throughout Behring s Straits. This immense body of ice bounds a circle 6000 miles in circumference, and encloses an area one-third larger than the continent of Europe. It can be safely stated that this ice barrier is not continuous, but is a ring surrounding an open sea. How solemn is the conception of such a vast inland sea, shut in by ice, on whose coast no human being has yet trod ! " There are facts to show the necessity and certainty that there is a vast inland sea at the North. There must be some vast receptacle for the drainage of the polar regions, and the great Siberian rivers. To prove that water must actually exist, we have only to observe the icebergs. These floating masses cannot be formed without terra firma, and it is a remarkable fact that out of 360 in only 30 are icebergs to be found, showing that land cannot exist in any considerable portion of the country." " Again, Baffin s Bay was long thought to be a close bay, but it is now known to be connected with the Arctic sea. Within the Bay, and covering an area of 90,000 square miles, there is an open sea from June to October. We find here a 208 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND vacant space with water at 40 temperature eight degrees higher than freezing point. This is due to the polar ice drift. ****** " A halt is ordered, and rising twenty feet in the air is a ridge to oppose the progress of our party. Quickly the sledge is taken to pieces, the various parts are conveyed over the ridge, it is again put together, and the party move on. Another halt, and a black river flows directly across the path of our party. The gutta percha boats are taken out, the sledge is again taken to pieces and carried across, again to be put together. No hesitancy is allowed, and although the hours of work in a day are many, yet ten miles is considered good progress. " Another halt, and the day s work is done. A snow-hut is erected, the men remove their wet boots and stockings, wash their feet in snow, and step into a wolf-skin blanket, spread upon water-proof cloth, thrown upon the icy ground. A lamp is lighted, and water is procured from the snow. The supper is prepared, another wolf skin is thrown over the fatigued explorer, and he sleeps only to wake again to renewed labor. The food to be used by Dr. Kane s Expedition is dried pemmican, which is composed of the muscles of oxen, prepared in the marrow of these animals, forming a nutritious article of sustenance. " All unnecessary baggage will be avoided, and the smallest needful quantity of food and raiment will be proportioned to each man. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 209 " The line of travel to be pursued will be due north until we reach the headlands of Greenland, and then we shall descend in search. It has been determined to make the expedition one of scientific importance, and for this purpose every obser vation possible will be made and chronicled. Natural history, the mysteries of northern migration, in a word, all subjects that are worthy of investigation will be made objects of search by the expedition. Prof. Henry of the Smithsonian Institute, always ready to advance every endeavor to attain knowledge, has furnished the party with a supply of instru ments for observations, and the Secretary of the Navy will apply to Congress for appropriations necessary to carry forward the work. And now an appeal is made to Boston for sympathy and aid. " Whether Sir John Franklin is alive or not, is not now the subject under discussion. Our duty to attempt to rescue him if alive, or to seek the solution of his fate is plain. Traces can be found, and it is incumbent on us to attempt to find them." In concluding, Dr. Kane asked the sympathy of all the good and kind, for the party who are soon to leave for a region where even day and night are unknown, and all is dreary and desolate. The Hall was densely crowded, and Dr. Kane s lecture was listened to with marked attention by all. 210 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND NATHANIEI HAWTHORNE. WHAT grand accommodations are provided for the people of this generation ! Rivers are bridged, hills are tunnelled, ships are launched, while fire, wind, and water are harnessed arid compelled to turn a crank here, and roll a wheel there, and drive a wedge yonder. The elements once controlled us. We were blown about by the wind, scorched by the lightning, and drowned in the flood. Now the sea is the " highway of nations," the lightning our messenger, and the wind our hard working slave. Then, again, we have such advantages in this " land of the free and home of the brave." Our kind-hearted relative, Uncle Sam, is such a clever old chap, who knows how to provide for his twenty millions of nephews and nieces. In every place, that is any place, drop a letter into his post box, and forthwith he mounts the stage-seat, and with a bland smile drops the billet on the breakfast table the next morning, one thousand miles away. If one desires to ride, he yokes his team of fire and water, and his steeds, with lungs of fire and manes of smoke, speed forward with wings on their heels. Accept my grateful acknowledgments, good, dear, kind Uncle Sam, for the delightful ride I have had from Boston to Concord this glorious morning. The trees are in full blossom ; OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 211 birds are flying from busli to bush, and they have set to music the poetry Spring has written ; lambs, with no fear of the butcher and no thought of the glutton before them, are frolick ing in the green meadows ; and lovely children, apparently as innocent as lambs, and certainly more beautiful than flowers, are on their way to school with bouquets in their hands. A kind friend has invited me to accompany him to the monument erected to the memory of the first battle fought during the revolutionary struggle. We have passed several ancient buildings, relics of the "olden time." From that window looking eastward, the old lady who now occupies the house saw the soldiers passing over the hill, with their hand kerchiefs in their sides to staunch the blood gushing from their gaping wounds. We have now reached the spot where some say the first blood was shed in the battle for freedom in America. A shaft of granite, about thirty feet high, marks the spot where the first victims were sacrificed on the altar of Liberty. On the 19th of April, 1775, three hundred intrepid rural soldiers drove before them five times that number of regular British troops, and forced them to find shelter behind their own bul warks. There goes a tall, lean, venerable, senatorial looking man, his head whitened with the snows of seventy winters. It is Judge Hoar, the distinguished jurist and the noted hero of the South Carolina explosion. Ralph Waldo Emerson, the essay ist and lecturer, lives in that large square, unpoetical-looking cottage, so handsomely situated; and that Gothic summer* 212 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND house in his garden was built by his intimate friend Alcott, the author of the " Delphic Oracles." In the old parsonage yonder, near the monument, Nathaniel Hawthorne, the author of the " Scarlet Letter," and other popular books, was born. Here is a good back-ground for a picture : suppose we take his portrait. Until within a few years, the author of " Twice Told Tales " has remained in comparative obscurity ; for it is one of the sins of the American people, that they rarely appreciate genius on this side of the Atlantic until it has been discovered by some critic on the other side. Besides, the few here who think they have grown to full fame seem anxious to make the number grow " beautifully less," and while they hold the keys of the temple of fame, no man is allowed to step over its threshold, who comes unheralded by a .trumpeter from England. Thank, fortune and his own genius, he has worked his way to true appreciation without using cant or claptrap humbug and hypocrisy. Long ago he should have stood in the company of such men as Irving, Paulding, Bancroft and Prescott ; but he was too poor and too honest to purchase labored puffs and eloquent eulogies in the magazines. No thanks to the critics (who tried to kill him by letting him alone severely) for the prominent position he now occupies. Edgar A.Poe, speaking of Hawthorne, says that he is pecu liar, not original something like the German Tieck in his manner and in the selection of his subjects, while his same ness, or monotony, or peculiarity is mistaken for originality. He is less original but almost as allegorical as John Bunyan, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 213 and when we read the " Old Arm Chair," " Sights from a Steeple," "Little Annie s Ramble," " Sunday at Home," "A Rill from the Town Pump," " The Toll Gatherer s Day," " The Haunted Mind," " The Snow Flakes," " Night Sketches," and the "Celestial Railroad," we find as many figures and as much dreaming in Hawthorne s progress as we do in "Pilgrim s Progress." He has not the polish of Irving, the poetry of Lamb, nor the variety of Hazlitt. The subject of this sketch is to all intents and purposes a first-rate story teller ; for he has invention and imagination, refined style, exquisite taste, delicate humor, melting pathos, and scholar ship sufficient and ingenuity enough to employ all the materials and attributes he possesses to the best account. A friend of mine informed me to-day that Hawthorne is such a modest man that he will not look another in the face that he is so bashful he avoids society, and will sometimes leave his house to avoid the contact of visitors. In person he is a little above the ordinary stature has dark hair and dark, dreamy eyes. He is seen so seldom in public, it is as difficult to describe him as to paint a figure of the fleet ing air. 214 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND SAMUEL F. B. MORSE. WHAT an age of invention and improvement is this! Our path is paved with rails of iron, on which steeds of steam outrace the eagle ; our portraits are painted by the sun, so accurately that ugly people, who are vain, seldom look a daguerreotypist in the face ; but the greatest and most impor tant invention of this century, is the Magnetic Telegraph, as a communicator of intelligence by signs, which it records in cha racters so palpable that he who runs may read while no one can run so fast as the news can fly. The railroad, the steam boat, sun-painting, are not to be compared for a moment with the invention perfected by Professor Morse. Watts, Fulton, Franklin, and other men deserve our affectionate admiration, but Morse overshadows them all ; and he will live for ever, fresh in the recollection of his countrymen ; while those who would deprive him of his honor, fairly won, and his reward, so niggardly bestowed, will sink to insignificance. I do not now refer to the men who have suggested improvements in the method of recording the communication received and transmitted on the wires, but to those who, through envy and jealousy, manifest a mean reluctance to give honor to whom honor is due, and withhold the consideration to which Pro fessor Morse is so well entitled. The distinguished American artist who invented the Elec- OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 215 trie Telegraph, is the eldest son of the Rev. Jedediah Morse, the first writer on geography in this country. He was born in Charlestown, Massachusetts, and is now about sixty years of age. He studied at Yale College, where he graduated in 1810. Having an irresistible desire to become a painter, his father reluctantly gave his consent, and permitted him to sail for London under the care of Washington Allston. After his arrival in the great Babylon of Britain, he became acquainted with Leslie, and their first efforts were portraits of each other. So industrious and successful was Mr. Morse in his profession, that two years after his landing in London he exhibited, at the Royal Academy, his famous picture of " The Dying Her cules." He received the most nattering compliments from connossieurs, and the model which he made to assist him in painting his picture, obtained the sculpture prize for him. When he returned to the United States, he settled in Boston, where he had to contend with so many discouragements, he quitted the city of " Notions " and went to New Hampshire, and painted portraits for a trifling consideration say from $10 to $15 each. Afterwards he plied his pencil in Charleston, South Carolina, where his talents were appreciated, and where he was more generously compensated for his labors. In 1822 he commenced operations in the city of New York, where he became popular as a painter, and where he was handsomely compensated for his skill. It was there, under the auspices of the City Corporation, he painted the full-length likeness of Lafayette. About this time he was mainly instrumental in organizing 216 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND the Artists Association, from which grew the National Academy of Design. He was the first president of this famous institution, and he delivered the first course of lectures on Art in America. In the year 1829 he again visited Europe, and was absent from his native land three years. " On his return from Europe," says the author of the "Men of the Time," " a gentleman in describing the experiments that had just been made in Paris with the electro magnet, the question arose as to the time occupied by the electric fluid in passing through the wire, stated to be about one hundred feet in length. On the reply that it was instantaneous (recollecting the experiments of Franklin), he suggested that it might be carried to any distance, and that the electric spark could be made a means of conveying and recording intelligence. This suggestion, which drew some casual observation of assent from the party, took deep hold of Professor Morse, who undertook to develope the idea which he originated, and before the end of the voyage, he had drawn out and written the general plan of the invention, with which his name will be inseparably connected." After landing in New York, he resumed the practice of his profession, devoting his leisure moments to the accomplish ment of his object. In 1835 he demonstrated the feasibility of his plan in the New York University, by putting a model telegraph in operation. Two years afterwards, "Wheatstone, of England, and Steinheil, of Bavaria, also invented magnetic telegraphs, differing from each other, and both inferior to the invention of Professor Morse. CFF-HAND TAKINGS. 217 Since that time the entire world has been made acquainted with the progress and history of the invention. Professor Morse has received honors and presents from various sources. At the suggestion of Steinheil, his system was adopted in Germany ; the sultan of Turkey bestowed on him the " order of glory," with a diploma decorated with diamonds; the king of Prussia, though not wishing the discovery to be sneezed at, gave him a gold snuff-box ; the king of Wiirtemberg gave him a gold medal. In 1840 he received his patent from Washington. The first news carried over the wires was the announcement of the nomination of James K. Polk as the candidate selected by the Democrats for the Presidency. Now there are nearly twenty thousand miles of wire in opera tion in this and other countries. This lightning compeller has such a passion for painting, that even now he speaks of resuming his pencil. I do not like to hunt up coincidences, but it is somewhat singular that the man who taught our fathers and grandfathers geography, should have a son whose inventive genius has taught us how to annihilate the distance which divides one part of the world from the other and that the inventor should have a brother, the editor of the " New York Observer," whose business can be so much improved and accelerated by this great discovery. Columbus discovered this continent, Washington made it free, Franklin caught the lightning, and Morse has harnessed it and made it our mes- lenger. 10 2 IS CRAYON SKETCHES, AND GEORGE W. KENDALL GEORGE W. KENDALL, known the world over as the editor of the New Orleans Picayune, is a " Green Mountain Boy/ who passed the days of his boyhood in the beautiful town of Burlington. When he attained his majority, he visited the city of New York, where he remained until 1835, when he went to New Orleans ; there he assumed the editorial management of one of the most popular papers in America (the New Orleans Picayune). His attic wit, his exquisite taste, his elegant com positions, were admired and appreciated on both sides of the Atlantic. Hood in his palmiest days was not a cleverer pun ster. Douglas Jerrold has never displayed more genuine wit. He may be styled the merry- Andrew of the press, a-nd yet he is not a harlequin nor a clown, but a polished gentle- man, saying the pleasantest things in the most delightful manner. His humor is irresistible his wit sharp as a two- edged sword his pathos sure to move the heart and unseal the fountain of tears. Hypochondria has no chance to survive the first scratch of his magic pen. Volumes of amusing and touching articles might easily be selected from his model paper. As a paragraphist and essayist he occupies a proud position. But he wields the sword as well as the pen. In the spring of 1841, partly for the benefit of his health, and OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 21fe partly to gratify his love of adventure, lie set out for Austin with the Santa Fe Expedition ; and when he returned wrote a most interesting history of it, giving a graphic account of his captivity and sufferings in Mexico. He resumed his editorial functions and duties, and remained in the Cresent city until the commencement of the Mexican war, when he once more abandoned his literary labors, and attended General Taylor as a member of his staff, through the whole of his campaigns. At the close of the war he made the tour of Europe. He has obtained an enviable repu tation as the author of a splendid " History of the War be tween the United States and Mexico." He is a sociable, agreeable, accessible gentleman, whose extraordinary talents and manly bearing command the respect of a vast multitude of friends. The Picayune is a brilliant sheet, abounding in good things , and, unlike many of its contemporaries, it is not indebted to the confectioner for them. SAMUEL HOUSTON. GEN. SAMUEL HOUSTON, United States senator from Texas, is an extraordinary man, whose common sense and courage have won for him the good opinion of his appreciating coun trymen, everywhere. Although a self-taught and self-mad^ man, he has few superiors in debate on the floor of the senate- 220 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND chamber, and fewer equals on the field, in the perilous hou of battle. Indeed, he displays equal courage and coolness, whether acting in the capacity of statesman or soldier. We admire him as the hero of San Jacinto, when he captures Santa Anna, and we applaud him as the herald of freedom, when he throttles the "little giant" of Illinois, and virtually says to the demagogue, " Get thee behind me, Satan." He is one of nature s noblemen, whom the people delight to honor, and his fame will be fresh in the memory of the mul titude when the name of Douglas will be forgotten ; or, if remembered, be associated with Arnold and infamy. Gen. Houston is tall and straight as an Indian, of perfect propor tions, with sharp gray eyes, and a nose like the beak of an eagle. He usually wears a profusion of hair upon his face. His commanding countenance and towering figure contrast finely with the pigmy proportions and plebeian features of the ambitious and heartless man who would enslave nations for the gratification of his wicked vanity. I am indebted to " The Men of the Time " for the following sketch of his history : " Gen. Samuel Houston, United States senator from Texas, ;vas born in Rockbridge county, Virginia, March 2, 1793. He lost his father when quite young, and his mother removed with her family to the banks of the Tennessee, at that time the limit of civilization. Here the future senator received but a scanty education ; he passed several years among the Cherokee Indians, and in fact, through all his life, he seems to have held opinion with Rousseau, and retained a predilection for the savage mode of life. After serving for a time as clerk to a OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 221 country trader, and keeping a school, he became disgusted with mercantile and scholastic pursuits, and, in 1813, he enlisted in the army, and served under General Jackson in the war with the Creek Indians. He distinguished himself highly on several occasions, and at the conclusion of the wai he had risen to the rank of lieutenant ; but he soon resigned his commission and commenced the study of law at Nash ville. It was about this time that he began his political life, After holding several minor offices in Tennessee, he was, in 1823, elected to Congress, and continued a member of that body until, in 182Y, he became Governor of the State of Ten nessee. In 1829, before the expiration of his gubernatorial term, he resigned his office, and went to take up his abode among the Cherokees in Arkansas. During his residence among the Indians, lie became acquainted with the frauds practised upon them by government agents, and undertook a mission to Washington for the purpose of exposing them. In the execution of this philanthropic project he seems to have met with little success ; he became involved in several law- suite, and returned in disgust to his savage friends. During a visit to Texas, he was requested to allow his name to be used in the canvass, for a convention which was to meet to form a constitution for Texas prior to its admission into the Mexican union. He consented, and was unanimously elected. The constitution drawn up by the convention was rejected by Santa Anna, at that time in power, and the disaffection of the Texans caused thereby, was still further heightened by a de mand upon them to give up their arms. They determined 222 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND upon resistance ; a militia was organized, and Austin, th$ founder of the colony, was elected commander-in-chief, in which office he was shortly after succeeded by Houston. He conducted the war with vigor and ability, and finally brought it to a successful termination by the battle of San Jacinto, which was fought in April, 1836. The Mexicans were totally routed, with the loss of several hundred men, while the Tex- ans had but seven killed and thirty wounded. Santa Anna himself fell into the hands of the victors, and it was with great difficulty that they were prevented from taking sum mary vengeance upon him. In May, 1836, he signed a treaty acknowledging the independence of Texas, and in October of the same year, Houston was inaugurated the first president of the republic. At the end of his term of office, as the same person could not constitutionally be elected president twice in succession, he became a member of the congress. In 1841, however, he was again elevated to the presidential chair. During the whole time that he held that office, it was his favorite policy to effect the annexation of Texas to the United States, but he retired from office before he saw the consum mation of his wishes. In 1844, Texas became one of the States of the Union, and General Houston was elected to the Sen*^,of which body he is still a member." OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 223 PIERRE SOULE. PIERRE SOULE, formerly senator from Louisiana, now minister at the court of Spain, was bom in France. After receiving a collegiate education, while yet in his teens, ho took part in a conspiracy against the Bourbons, which fact being discovered, he fled to a small village where he assumed the humble occupation of a shepherd. At the termination of twelve months or more, he turned his steps to Paris, where he associated with Barthelemy and Mery for the purpose of pub lishing a liberal paper. His republican sentiments soon became distasteful to the authorities, and he was put on his trial for treason ; but when his lawyer appealed to the court for clemency on the score of his youth, Soule was displeased at this, and at once arose, denying the criminality of his conduct in strains of impassioned eloquence ; but his speech did not save him, so he sought an asylum in the United States. He landed at Baltimore, but took up his residence in New Orleans, in the fall of 1825. Having studied the English lan guage and the law, he passed a very creditable examination, and rose rapidly in his profession. In 1847, he was elected U. S. Senator from Louisiana, and was re-elected in 1849. He is a graceful and eloquent speaker ; it is said, indeed, that the mantle of Calhoun has fallen upon his shoulders. The slight French accent which marks his pronunciation, is as pleasant as a dash of olive oil on a dish of salad. He is a 224 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND man of fine proportions, with coal black hair ; large iuirrin. ous eyes, shining like black moons in the firmament of his handsome face. He is a polished gentleman, a successful lawyer, a respectable but not a profound statesman. He caught the filibuster fever at Washington, but the sea air and the climate of Spain have proved a most effectual cure, for he broke out in court dress there, so that the nation understands the diagnosis of his disease. WM. THACKERAY. I HAVE just sharpened my pencil, I wish I could sharpen my wit as easily. Now I will fold my paper, then my arms, and wait patiently for the speaker. There he comes; that grey-haired man, who approaches the desk, must be the lecturer. No, that is the sexton, who mounts the platform to light the candles. There goes a silver-haired man toward the organ ; I am told Thackeray is prematurely grey that must be him. Pshaw, that s the organist ! That s him, the tall, rosy, robust man, whose face is so much younger than his head, it looks like a rose under a snow-ball. The aristocracy of Boston are present, and they cheer the lecturer faintly, for kid gloves and thin boots render it impossible to create a real rackety, thackery, thundering welcome ; besides it is vulgar to allow one s heart to throb so rapturously as to reach to one s feet and fingers. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 225 There stands the great satirist, the inimitable humorist, the famous novelist. He can crush a humbug and scare the blue devils from the town, as easily as a farmer can frighten the crows from his corn-field. Thackeray is a great man, and there is a good deal of him. He must be upwards of six feet in height, for he towers up above common men as the Alps tower above common mountains, and like the Alps he is crowned with snow. He has a wide forehead of respectable height ; eyebrows, handsomely arched and neatly pencilled ; fat English cheeks (such as roast beef, plum pud ding, and pure air can make) ; a pair of unfrosted whiskers (that appear in the distance like an inch and a half of mouse- colored moss, under his ears) ; heavy aristocratic chin and finely chiselled mouth. A low black stock hugs a linen col lar, too lazy to stand erect his shirt bosom is unjewelled (real gentlemen in Europe are never bedizened with jewelry), a plain watch guard, terminating in a cross of gold which leans against his dark vest, is all the ornament that is visible on his person. See what a free and easy, I may add, indolent, way he has of leaning on the desk, and lolling from side to side ; then his hearty, healthy face, lit up with eyes that gleam through golden spectacles, seems to say, " How-de-do, Jonathan ? you have given me a generous welcome ; you are not a fair weather friend, for the inclement skies and the streets of mire and clay have not detained you at home." It is not enthusiasm, nor a propensity to over-estimate the worth of Mr. Thackeray, that induces me to say the lecture to which I now listen is one of the most interesting and in?fruo 226 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND tive lectures I have heard. He has a clear voice, and reads right on with little gesture. The sly satire, and sharp jest, do not stumble at the red threshold of his mouth, but come forth gracefully as though used to the way. Those who do not wish to have the skeletons of their character rattle in the winds at the cross-roads, must take heed and not fall into the hands of Thackeray, for he has the power to gibbet men so high the whole world can gaze at the victims. No one how ever, need be afraid of him, unless he be a quack, a humbug, or a tyrant, for he has a heart brimful of pity and running over with pathos. He is so far in advance of the age, not a few old fogies who would like to admire him, because he is endorsed by the first men in Europe, dare not, for reasons best known to themselves. As for the juvenile criticism elicited by his lectures, it reminds one of a giant running the gauntlet between rows of Liliputians. Shoot away, ye grass-hoppers, armed with pop guns. Don t be afraid, the grand jury will never indict you for murder, for you cannot kill, and if you could you are not accountable. Every person in the Melodeon fell in love with Steele, when the speaker, in his own peculiar manner, said he was "a black-eyed, soft-hearted, Irish boy," and their affection for him did not wane the least when he continued, " he was a lazy, good-natured, generous, good for nothing, talented boy, fond of lolly-pop, had an early taste for sack, and the gift to borrow money of his school-mates" (I do not quote verba tim). The speaker here introduced a brief history of his owr OJFF-IIAND TAKINGS. . 227 experience at school. Said he had seen many great men, but none so great as the head boy at school ; and when he had met such in after years, he was astonished to find them not more than six feet tall, and was surprised they had not become prime ministers. He said, Addison was head boy at the school Steele attended. Mr. Thackeray was exceedingly happy in his description of Steele as a soldier, " when he became deep in debt and deep in drink." Steele was not a teetotaller, for after he had become a Minister, and after he had written the " Christian Hero," he would put on his wig, cap, and laced coat, kiss his wife and children, tell a lie to them about his pressing engage ments, and heeler over to the " Rose," and have a jollification with his bottle companions. Addison was willing to assist him, but found it impossible to keep the tipsy man upon his legs. Steele deserved the admiration and affection of woman, for he was the first of that age to appreciate her worth. Swift and Addison were ungallant, but Steele set a proper estimate upon woman. He dedicated one of his books to his wife, and im the four hundred letters written to her, mani fested the traits of true love. He was married twice and out lived his wife, his fortune, and his health. The above is a very imperfect sketch of the lecture, dashed off in a crowd, with my hat for a writing-desk. Thackeray- seems blest with an intuitive perception for distinguishing the, difference between what things are and what they ought to, be. " The world is a stage " and men are players, fyui he haa & box to himself, and an opera glass with cleaj; len. 228 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND he sits, weeping at the tragedy and laughing at the comedy of life. He has a profound insight into human nature, and knows exactly how far to go and precisely the place to stop at, when he vibrates between the sublime and the ridiculous. His wit is refined and effectual, because it is based on the detection of unlooked-for resemblance or dissimilarity of ideas, rather than words. He is not like Falstaff, who in a double sense made a butt of himself, first by swallowing so much sack, secondly by his frequent allusions to himself. There is good sense, and practical wisdom, elevation, and enthusiasm in the wit of Thackeray, and however sharp may be the sting, there certainly is no spleen in his satire. His forte lies in describ ing the characters of men, their modes of dress, their pecu liar gestures, their different humors, their singular manners, their style of speaking and writing. He amuses by his coin cidences and contradictions, he surprises by his comparison? and combinations. His lectures are not darned and patched with epigrams, quips, quirks, and conundrums. There is no leaving of the high way of his discourse for the purpose of lugging in a metaphor to enliven it. All the figures rise up naturally out of the subject, as blossoms break out under the genial sunshine of Spring. Mr. Thackeray s visit to this city will brush the dust from the old classic authors who have been shamefully slighted for several years past in this country, while the masses have been satisfied with the lolly- pop literature of the present age. No offence to the book makers, for my enemies can say, that I too have written a book OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 220 JOHN PIERPONT. * And girded for thy constant strife with wrong, Like Nehemiah, fighting while he wrought The broken walls of Zion, even thy song Hath a rude martial tone, a blow in every thought. WHITTIER TO PIERPONT THE purchased puff the hurrah of the mob the presenta- tion of medals the multitude at one s heels are not fame. Fame is the spirit of man s genius, which lives in the minds of others, while he lives and after he is dead ; for fame is immor tal. Popularity is ephemeral, and bears the same relationship to fame that shadow bears to substance. The gross Esau would sell his birthright for a mess of pottage. He would mortgage the blessing of his father for personal gratification ; while the man of true genius waits hopefully for the homage which will surely be paid to the everlasting forms of truth and beauty he has left on record, as the reflections of his own mind. Like Jacob, he sees a ladder of light reaching to heaven. He thinks little of himself and much of his subject. He aims at perfection and not popularity. He turns his back on the past, and his face towards the future. He is willing to abide the decision of posterity. hence he speaks the truth. Men of true genius are men of progress ; they are reformers. Whoever saw a verse of genuine poetry in defence of oppres 230 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND sion? What tyrant ever wrote a stanza of pure poetry? Genius never glows in the heart of a tyrant, and Fame will never build her temple over his ashes. John Pierpont, the preacher and- poet, is a man on whose shoulders the mantle of true genius has fallen. His pen is never elegantly feeble. He never gives you the glitter of fine words for the gold of pure thought. He does not cringe and creep and bow and lisp like a literary fop ; but like a brave, honest, earnest man, as he is, speaks the sentiments that are born in his soul. He is an artist, who thinks the picture of more consequence than the frame. He will not spoil a good thought for the purpose % of saying a good thing. He loves Nature more than he fears the Critic, and never commits infanticide on his ideas, at their birth, for fear they should hereafter be murdered by some hypocritical reviewer. The themes selected by him are con genial to his heart. Is there a temple to be dedicated to the service of God ? his muse, with harp in hand, stands between the porch and the alfar. Is there a monument to be erected over the dust of departed heroes ? he there builds a pyramid of verse that will stand when the stones shall have fallen in decay. Is there a crisis in the cause of reform, when the great heart of humanity must speak or break ? his words are its throbs, his song its sentiments. No reform poet in America is so great a favorite among the elite and literati as Mr. Pierpont, Perhaps no man in this country receives as many invitations to read poetry before lyceums and colleges as he. At Harvard and New Haven, and every other place where genius is appreciated, he is, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 231 welcome. Notwithstanding this fact, Godey and Graham, and other lords in the kingdom of magazinedom never employ his pen. The best effusions of his classical quill are found in the reform journals, for he does not deem it beneath his dignity to contribute to the columns of the papers that are not fashionable and popular. Holmes is the poet of taste and fashion, cheerful, gay, and light as Ariel. Should he prick a sinner with his stiletto, ho would at once apologize, by declaring he was in fun, and hoped no offence. Longfellow is so nice and elegant, he sometimes does injustice to his noble nature ; but he is fond of freedom, and sympathizes with the men of progress. Lowell is a radical, wielding a two-edged sword when he is aroused ; he belongs to no school but his own. His muse is a jolly jade, with the thumb on her nose and all fingers of both hands vibrating, when she would pour contempt upon a national sin. Sprague s poetry is as current and more valuable than the bank bills that bear his signature. Whittier is the poet of the slave. Pierpont is emphatically the Temperance Poet. See him standing in that magnificent Music Hall, reading his poem before the members of the Mercantile Library Society. He is straight as a palm-tree, fanned by the " airs of Palestine," his snow-white hair looks like a halo of glory about his head, and the rosy glow of health upon fcis face, shows that his heart can never grow old. Few men of his years (he is upwards of sixty) have been young so long as he ; few men of his age are so young as he is now. He always 232 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND dresses neatly, and lias an air of military compactness, looks well in the street or on the platform. His eyes are blue and brilliant ; forehead stamped with the lines of intellectual superiority ; temperament sanguine-nervous. In any audience he would be singled out as a leader. As a speaker he is always interesting often eloquent. There is a rich vein of poetry running through his sermons and speeches, which enhances the value of his efforts. While speaking, he stands erect, and has a habit of shaking his hand, with his forefinger extended, when he is earnestly emphatic on any particular subject under discussion, at the same time moving his head, while his eyes flash as though he was shaking stars out of his forehead. I wish I had space for a more extended specimen of his poetry. The following beautiful and melodious stanz. ia are real poetry without a waste word : Was it the chime of a tiny bell, That came so sweet to my dreaming ear, Like the silvery tones of a fairy shell That winds on the beach, so mellow and clear, When the winds and the waves lie together asleep, And the moon and the fairy are watching the deep, She, dispensing her silvery light, And he, his notes as silvery quite, While the boatman listens and ships his oar, To catch the music that comes from the shore ? Hark ! the notes, on my ear that play, Are set to words : as they float they say, " Passing away ! passing away !" OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 23. ] v But no ; it was not a fairy s shell, Blown on the beah, so mellow and clear , Nor was it the tongue of a silver bell, Striking the hour that filled my car, As I lay in my dream 5 yet it was a chime That told of the flow of the stream of time, For a beautiful clock from the ceiling hung, And a plump little girl, for a pendulum swung (As you ve sometimes seen in a little ring That hangs in his cage, a canary bird swing) ; And she held in her bosom a budding bouquet, And as she enjoyed it, she seemed to say " Passing away ! passing away !" Where is the voter in America who has not heard the following extract from a popular poem entitled the Ballot- Box ? I quote from memory : We have a weapon firmer set, And better than the bayonet, A weapon that comes down as still As snow-flakes fall upon the sod, Yet executes a freeman s will, As lightning does the will of God. Perhaps no temperance poem ever had so wide a circulation as the "Two Incendiaries," recently published in the Life Boat. Here is a verse as pure, sparkling, and refreshing as the rain. Ye gracious clouds ! ye deep, cold walls, Ye gems, from mossy rocks that drip ! Springs, that from earth s mysterious cells Gush o er your granite basin s lip ! 234 CRAYON" SKETCHES, AND To you I look : your largess give, And I will drink of you and live. Mr. P. is the author of the Airs of Palestine, a poem of nearly a thousand lines in the heroic measure for sublimity of thought, benuty of expression, and graceful versification, it is unexcelled by any American production. Mr. P. is a native of Litchfield, Conn. He entered Yale College when fifteen years of age, and graduated in the Bummer of 1804. Afterwards he engaged in teaching, which he soon relinquished for the study of law. The practice of law not agreeing with his health, he entered into mercantile pursuits, which resulted disastrously in 1816, but his loss was our gain. Not long after his failure he began to prepare for the pulpit. Left Harvard University in 1818. In 1819 he was chosen pastor of the Hollis street church, where he remained nineteen years. He is now pastor of a flourishing church in Medford. May he long live to entertain, -enlighten, and bless the brotherhood of man. The extract which follows is taken from an Address deli vered to his unrelenting persecutors in the Hollis street church Boston. They assailed him with the most persevering malig nity because he rebuked them kindly but earnestly and repeatedly for manufacturing and selling intoxicating liquors. He triumphed over them all, for he had the Law as well as the Gospel on his side. Want of space is my excuse for not indulging the reader with a more extended specimen of Mr. Pierpont s chaste and beautiful prose. " And now, my brethren, as this may possibly be the last OFF-HAND TAKINGS. . counsel that, as your minister, I may ever have an opportunity to give you, those of you especially, who have been most active in disquieting the sheep of this Christian fold, by your persecution of its .shepherd indulge me, I pray you, in one word more of cownsel. The time is coming when you will thank me for it; thank me the more heartilj, the more promptly you follow it. Desist I counsel you to desist, from that part of your business which has been the cause of all this unhappy controversy ; the cause of your troubles, and of my trials and triumph for I shall be triumphant at last. Desist from the business that, through the poverty of many, has made you rich that has put you into your palaces by driving them, through hovels and prisons, down into the gates of the grave. Abandon the business that is kindling the fires of hatred upon your own hearth-stones, and pouring poison into the veins of your children yea, and of your children s children, and sending the shriek of delirium through their chambers the business that is now scourging our good land as pestilence and war have never scourged it ; nay, the business, in prosecuting which you are, even now, carrying a curse to all the continents of the world, and making our country a stench in the nostrils of the nations. I counsel you to stay your hands from this work of destruction, and wash them of this great iniquity, as becomes the disciples of Him who came not to destroy men s lives, but to save them. As His disciples, I counsel you no longer to absent yourselves from your wonted place of worship, and to return to your allegiance to your church and to God. Say to your minister, 236 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Well done, good and faithful servant! you have faithfully done the work that you were ordained to do. You have neither spared us nor feared us. You have even wounded us ; but faithful are the wounds of a friend. We commend you for your work, and charge you to go on with it, that we may meet together, and rejoice together in the presence of \ OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 237 HORACE GREELEY. THE subject of this sketch is the prince of paragraphists the Napoleon of Essayists. For years he has employed his talents in winding and unwinding the "tangled yarn" of human affairs in Church and State in Philosophy and Politics in Art and Literature. He is the great recording secretary of this Continent, employed by the masses to take notes and print them. His business is to " hold the mirror up to Nature, and show the very age and body of the time its form and pressure." He has the pluck to say as an editor what he feels as a man when he forgets that he is a politi cian. It is then that we find truth without concealment, and genuine operi-heartedness without wire-working behind the curtain. It is then he " pours out all as plain As downright Shippen, or as old Montaigne." Notwithstanding his wayward whims his eccentric man ners his love of the intangible ideal his faith in Fourierism his responses to spirit-rappers his man-worship when Henry Clay was the human god he is still the model Editor and the leader of the " press gang ;" and the columns of The Tribune afford a panoramic view of the American world as it 238 CRAYON SKETCHES, AN T O is. Greeley is a pen pugilist (but never a bully), and Woe betide the unlucky wight that begins the assault. Is he a clergyman ? then duodecimos, octavos, and quartos of eccle siastical history will be hurled at his head, and he cannot dodge them though he makes a coward s castle of the pulpit. Is he a political man? then he must be right, or he will be flagellated, if he ventures to measure lances with one who is a walking register, and familiar with every important politi cal event that has transpired for the last twenty years. He has more than a usual knowledge of the past. His writings embrace every variety of style classic beauty, exquisite poetry, graphic description, vapid commonplace, the full sun- blaze of originality, the moon in the mist, and the ignis fa tuus light of whimsical nonsense. It is but just, however, to say r that he rarely troubles his readers with verbiage or pedantry. He gives us his immediate impressions of things, and his style depends somewhat upon the state of his health and the leisure at his disposal. He does not stop to tack on syllables to make a sentence even, nor measure periods so that they will be as mathematically correct as the vibrations of a pen dulum ; but he dashes on, heedless of consequences. His widely circulated journal contains good specimens of acute wit, critical reasoning, solid argument, brilliant invective, pro found philosophy, beautiful poetry, and moving eloquence, mixed with the opposites of these. Mr. Greeley is entirely free from heartless bigotry or hypo critical obstinacy. He is benevolent in his disposition, affable and sociable in his manners, often speaks in public, and, owing OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 239 to his fame as a writer, attracts considerable attention ; but he is pretty sure to disappoint his hearers, for he has not suffi cient eloquence as an orator, to buoy up the reputation he has won as a writer. His manner is uncouth, his matter often dry, and his person by no means prepossessing. Here permit me to say, that his careless, slipshod, slovenly way of dressing his person, has rendered him a man of mark and remark. His white hat and white coat have been immortalized, because they are ever worn and everlasting. If this Whig prophet had more dignity and more dandyism, he would be less popular with the masses, but a great favorite with uppercrust- dom. Mr. Greeley is a practical printer, and has risen to his pre sent eminence by his untiring industry, his unconquerable perseverance, and extraordinary talents. No man in this nation controls public opinion more than he. He is a Grand Marshal in the great army of reformers, not afraid or ashamed to speak to commit himself, save when his party may suffer by the act. He -is a patriot Whig, a philanthropic Whig, a temperance Whig, an anti-slavery Whig, a Whig writer, a Whig speaker, the editor of a Whig paper, and that paper one of the very best in the United States. No wonder Mr. Greeley knows so well how to meet the wants and washes of his patrons, for lie has been in the world ever since he was born, and has been in various situations in life charcoal burner and member of Congress. Mr. Greeley is about forty years of age, of nervous temperament, has a large head too large for his vital organs a pale complexion, small 240 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND eyes, sunk under a dumpling forehead, a very scanty supply of very soft, white hair (not grey), which will not grow in front, but makes up the deficiency by a patriarchal over growth behind. When the reader beholds a man with an old white hat stuck on the back of the cranium, and leaving the forehead bare, a shirt-collar neckerchiefless and unbuttoned, a vest which looks as though it had been put on with a pitch-fork, a pair of trowsers with one leg stuck in a coarse boot and the other striving in vain to reach the ankle, a coat that seems to have been blown upon his back, and pockets filled with exchange papers he may be sure he sees Horace Greeley. This gentleman is a dietarian ; eats coarse, plain food, drinks nothing but cold water, bathes daily, and sleeps upon a hard bed. In conclusion, permit me to say, that Mr. Greeley is a man whose virtuous life, abstemious habits, generous deeds, and magnificent talents, entitle him to the admiration of his fellow men. The following sketch of Horace Greeley " at home " we re cently found in a newspaper, the name of which we do not now remember. Some of our readers may like to hear of Horace Greeley, in his sanctum, and for their benefit we quote a description of these indispensable " appendages " to the leading newspaper establishment of the country. Mr. Greeley s personal appearance and eccentricities are OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 241 known the country through ; the former, doubtless, better, pre- vio^is to his European tour and visit to the World s Fair, than since, as he is said to have returned home in costume which would pass current on the Boulevards of Paris. Despite this " turning of the coats," as long as he shall be remembered, even so long will the fame of that very white integument, with hat, boots and etceteras, also survive in the memory of man. Accompanied by the reader, let us make our way to the fourth story of the Tribune Buildings, corner Spruce and Nassau streets, opposite the City Hall as the notice on the first page of the Tribune directs us. Passing through a good- sized room in which we see half a dozen men busily engaged with pen, ink, and paper we enter a small snug apartment. Mr. Greeley is invariably " at home," except when travelling abroad, which he does pretty often, at the proper season, of late years. We take it for granted, therefore, that he is at his post, as we make him our imaginary call. There he stands at a desk, much like a plain counting-room desk, totally absorbed in writing or in his papers. This desk is very high, reaching nearly or quite to a level with his eyes, and his arm rests upon it, the elbow higher than his head. We believe he invariably writes in a standing position, and his desk is so constructed (as we have intimated) that he looks up rather than down to his paper. He is so constant at his work and so near-sighted withal, that he is obliged to follow this habit, or bend quite double. There are papers, pamphlets, and a book or two on his desk, and quantities of the former scattered over the floor 11 242 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND The distinguished Editor does not notice us, as we enter tho room, nor would lie apprehend that he was intruded upon were we to remain all day and not make oursel\ T es known. If we are strangers, and it is apparent that we " drop in " out of mere idle curiosity, when he has nodded his head to us, in response to our interruption, he resumes his labors, and we may as well " clear out," first as last, for we shall receive no further attention from him. Those unacquainted with his business might well consider this "hard usage," but the reasonable reader (whom we are presumed to have in our company) will recognise this course of conduct, as a rule. His daily visiters may be reckoned by the hundred, and were he to play "the agreeable" to each and every one, the sum total of his day s work would count an insignificant footing. On the other hand if we happen to be " particular friends," politically, he will give us due attention, and we shall get posted up on the " state of things," and very likely receive some excellent practical advice, touching our future public events. Mr. Greeley has been through life emphatically a great worker. Otherwise, it is plain, he could never have accom plished the immense amount of work he has done. A near friend of his, at the time when he first independently ventured into newspaperdom, has assured us that he closely applied himself from fifteen to eighteen hours per day. Since he has become firmly established, he has in a degree, relaxed his efforts, but we know of no harder working editor, at this day and that is saying a good deal for Mr. Greeley s industry and perseverance. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 243 Mr. Greeley is a quick composer and a rapid writer Printers, pronounce his manuscript decidedly worse than that of any other editor in the land, which is setting it at a very low notch indeed. In putting it in type, they declare they take it for what it ought to be, rather than what it seems to be. Lines on paper are of no use to him ; he persists that the pen should be a free agent, and, to be consistent, lets it take pretty much its own course. The fac simile of Byron s chirography in the large edition of this writer s works is really reasonable, compared with Greeley s ordinary manuscript. We have, perhaps, deviated somewhat from the object of our visit ; but, as we have described, we claim to belong exclusively to Greeley and his sanctum sanctorum. This last is a perfectly plain, unpretending room, and the only article in it having anything the air "of luxuriousness is a good old- fashioned lounge, upon which, it is said, he sometimes takes a snooze. We are told that this remarkable man has the very convenient faculty of working as long as there is anything to be done, and then sitting down in a chair, or reclining upon his lounge, and finding refreshing rest in sleep. Truly, a rare and a comfortable habit, and admirably adapted to the neces sities of such a man. But, having exhausted our knowledge and " said our say " of the room and its occupant, remembering that we treat of one, with whom the corner-stone of all rhetorical virtues is to stop when you are done, let us take ourselves off casting back a lingering glance at the form of our friend, at his work, with brain, and quill, and nose converged and concentrate and 244 CRAYOX SKETCHES, AND sending up our earnest aspirations that he may live to stand at his old desk, and drive his powerful and faithful pen fof the Truth and Right, and so " leave him alone in his glory." In the year 1830 and 1831, he worked as an apprentice in a printing office in Erie, Pa., for fifty dollars a year ; out of that sum he saved enough to buy his father a yoke of steers $25 or $30 clothed himself, and laid by what paid his expenses to New York. His father at that time was very poor, living on a small piece of rugged hemlock land, near the line of Crawford co., Pa., and Chatauque county, N. Y. The whole of the worldly gear of Horace, when he started for the city to make his fortune, might be summed up in a short schedule a suit of blue cotton jeans, two brown shirts, chip hat, and brogans, and less than five dollars in money. And now, at this moment, he is wielding an influence greater perhaps than any other man in America. He is the editor-in-chief of the New York Tribune. Mr. Greeley is a model worker, temperate, economical, industrious, and a ready writer. He will make a mark upon the world, and be numbered among the leading spirits of the NINETEENTH CEN TURY. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. MOSES GRANT, MOSES GKANT has obtained a world-wide celebrity, by his untiring efforts to ameliorate the condition of the unfortunate children of poverty and sorrow. The widow and the orphan have reason to rise up and call him blessed. The drunkard and the prisoner have abundant cause to remember him gratefully, for his labor of love. Although advanced in years, he has the vigor, forecast, and decision of the prime of life. Between the hours of eight and one, in the morning, he may be found every working-day in his office, serving the poor. Groups of men, women, and children, of every com plexion, from every country, may be seen at his office every forenoon, soliciting aid and advice. The dusky African, the mercurial Celt, the solid Englishman, the chattering French man, the lymphatic German, and the exiled Hungarian. One sits on a bench at the window, eating a bowl of soup another stoops down to fit a pair of shoes to his feet another strips the rags from his back and puts on a warm jacket. Look at the procession passing through the gate. Here is a boy with a bag of rice, there is a girl with a loaf of bread, yonder is a woman with a basket of provisions. See that red-faced young man, his home is in the country, but he last night fell among 246 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND thieves, between Broad and Beacon streets, and he has just borrowed a sum sufficient to take him to his parents. That modest woman, so plainly yet so neatly dressed, suffered uncomplainingly, until pinching hunger compelled her to soli cit charity her immediate wants are supplied, and employ ment will be procured for her. The man with a slouched hat and seedy coat has signed the pledge, and left hi^ brandy bottle among the curiosities in the Deacon s temperance museum. There comes the porter with a stack of letters and papers from the post-office the former will be answered and the latter examined, before the rising of to-morrow s sun. It is now noon. The sad faced, broken-hearted, and down trodden procession, has passed away from the beautiful resi dence, and the owner and occupant of the mansion hurries down to his place of business, from that to the bank, and then home again, in time to dine. After dinner he calls for his carriage, and takes a poor boy to the Farm School dropping in at South Boston to see the juvenile offenders, and calling, on his return, to see a sick woman, and administer such con solation and assistance as he can render. Her lips are white as the wild white rose, but she calls for blessings to descend upon kind friends, whose visits are better than medicine to her aching frame and breaking heart. The subject of this sketch is never idle. Now presiding at a Mass Meeting on the Common, or in Faneuil Hall, or in Tremont Temple then making a speech to the convicts in Charlestown Prison, or visiting the paupers at Deer Island or attending to his official business at the Board of Aldermen OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 247 or his duties as an office bearer in the Brattle street Church, where his father served before him, in the same capacity of Deacon. His father was one of the brave men who threw the tea overboard in Boston harbor. Mr. Grant is the senior partner in a large paper establishment, Overseer of the Poor, Almoner for the benevolent who choose to contribute of their abundance for the relief of idtie distressed ; President of the Boston Tem perance Society, and a director in many other institutions. He is a man of fortune, has a good education, and has visited Europe. He writes a sensible letter, and makes a practical speech ; is peculiarly happy in his remarks to children, and always a welcome visitor at all juvenile demonstrations. For many years he has been identified with the temperance cause. His house, and purse, and heart, are ever open for the advance ment of his favorite enterprise. He is the unfaltering friend and patron of that eminent orator, J. B. Gough, and stood by his side in the hour of trial, when summer friends forsook him. It is rather difficult to describe his person. The portrait in the American Temperance Magazine is a pretty fair resem blance, although not a perfect likeness. He has brown hair sprinkled with lines of silver blue eyes, thin face, cheeks somewhat sunken, is rather under the medium size. He is of the nervous-sanguine temperament; has a singular habit of twitching the muscles of his face and shrugging his shoul ders when excited ; often speaks abruptly, when pressed with business, and does not always appear to the best advantage 248 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND at first sight, but wears well and "improves on acquaintance." In a word, he is a man of sound judgment, superior business talents, a practical philanthropist, and a sincere Christian. For many years he has been a hero in the battle-field of life, and many would be willing to give a dukedom to possess the screen laurels and golden honors he has won. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 240 GEORGE N. BRIGGS. Lives of great men all remind us We may make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Foot-prints on the sands of time. LONGFELLOW. His Excellency, GEORGE N. BRIGGS, is an American nobleman in the full-orbed manhood of life. He is robust, of broad build, and medium height. His eyes are blue, and his brown hair is tinged with the frost of more than fifty winters. His forehead is wide and high, and indicates more than a mediocrity of intellect, and his countenance is of a serious and thoughtful cast. He dresses plainly, and never wears a collar above his cravat. We attribute this freak of taste to his innate love of liberty. He certainly is unlike the drunkard who was such an ultra republican he would not wear a crown in his hat. He belongs to the Baptist church, and is one of its most efficient and influential members. He takes a deep and lively interest in the religious and reforma tory movements of the age. In the temperance ranks-* he has fought many battles and gained many victories. When for gotten as Governor of the glorious old Commonwealth of Massachusetts, he will be gratefully remembered as having been a successful champion of the temperance enterprise. Gov. Briggs recently manifested a disposition to secure 11* 250 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND further legislation on the subject of temperance, and he did not handle that question as good old Izaak Walton did the frog he used for a bait, touching it tenderly, as though he would put the hook into its mouth without hurting* it. In this way he displeased the publicans and sinners more than he did the friends of the total abstinence cause. He is always right on this question, and deserves great credit for his devo tion to the principles of the^ pledge, and his courageous advocacy of its doctrines. It is difficult for a politician to be a philanthropist, but he is more of the latter than the former, He is not a bogus republican, friendly on election days and forgetful at other times. He is not a hypocrite, who spreads palm leaves in the path of Jesus when he is popular in Jerusalem, and denies him after he is nailed to the cross. He believes men live in the deeds they do, and not in the noise they make ; in the thoughts they have, and not in the breaths they draw ; in the beatings of a good heart, and not in the throbbings of a gold repeater. When the Hon. Edward Everett delivered the eulogy on the death of the lamented Adams, every little great man in the city, who had an opportunity to make a display, was bedi zened with the tinselry, jewelry, and regalia of office ; but the Governor, who is a wise man and a good man, wore a plain citizen s dress, marked with a simple badge of mourning. He knows that birth, genius, talent, learning, wealth, and per sonal attractions do not alone make one man better than another. A man may carry a silver- headed cane and wear a wooden head. He may learn the time he squanders from a OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 251 gold watch, while his heart is as corrupt as a nest of unclean birds. He may have a soft hand at one end of his arm and a softer head at the other. A fool with a fortune is pretty sure to clothe his back more than he cultivates his brains. Governor Briggs was apprenticed to the hatting business at an early period of his life, and although he afterwards became a lawyer, he never treated working men with disre spect. He loves to grasp the hand hardened by toil, and whether a man s face be bronzed at the plough or bleached in the mill, whether he be clad in ruffles or in rags, he is sure to meet with a warm and welcome and unostentatious reception when introduced to George N. Briggs. He is not so eminent a lawyer as he is a Governor, although he is considered an Aristides in his profession. He is an attractive speaker, and is always ready on all suitable occasions to give free utterance to his manly sentiments. He is more fluent than eloquent, more solid than brilliant, more inclined to elaborate arguments and relate facts than to round periods and polish sentences. "When his voice is not hoarse, and his mind is roused, he will occasionally thrill the heart like a blast from a trumpet. During his stay in Congress he organized a Congressional Temperance Society, which did a vast amount of good, but, unfortunately, it died out soon after he returned to Massa chusetts. In the Sabbath School this distinguished man is " at home." Let the nobles of the land copy his example in thi^ respect, and make themselves useful in their day and generation. Governor Briggs has, among his political opponents, many 252 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND personal friends. He doubtless has imperfections, but fe~w public men have less. It is said that he has exercised too much clemency towards convicts whom he has pardoned ; if this be a fault, it leans towards the side of virtue. Some think his course respecting the Mexican war reprehensible, but this is not the time nor the place to investigate that matter. Some complain that he has not sufficiently imbibed the spirit of anti-slavery, but as we are not all organized, nor educated, nor situated alike, we must make some allowance for differ ences of opinion. Whatever may be the opinion of some, he will long be*remembered as a consistent Christian, and the model Governor of the Old Bav State. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. THEODORE PARKER. M This, like a public inn, provides a treat, Where each promiscuous guest sits down to eat ; And such this mental food as we may call Something to all men, and to some men all." CRABBE. LET the reader imagine it is Sunday morning. The bella are tolling, and the good church-going people of Boston are wending their way to the various places of worship which are open for religious services. Suppose we spend an hour this forenoon at the Melodeon, and hear the celebrated philanthropist who usually preaches there* Mr. Parker is seated in an arm-chair on the platform. A Bible and a bunch of flowers are on the desk in front of him, and it is difficult to say beforehand from which of the two he will select his text. He will doubtless glorify the fragrant and beautiful blossoms, and condemn some parts of the inspired volume, before he concludes his address. See him rise slowly and walk gently toward the desk. He now leans upon it, closes his eyes, clasps his hands, and commen ces prayer, in an inaudible voice. Now the hoarse whisper becomes a low, murmuring sound. Now you hear words, and a whole sentence occasionally, and wish you had coma earlier so as to have obtained a seat nearer the preacher 254 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND , by opening your ears and watching his lips attentively, you can hear his prayer ; but if God is not present, there is no one there who understands it. It abounds with smart maxims, deep philosophical reflections, pious acknowledg ments, earnest invocations, and reverential promises. He has taken his text and commenced reading his manu script. His voice is rather husky, and his thick lips seem unwilling to part. He now speaks louder and more dis tinctly ; his lead-like eyes begin to glow with genius, and his bald head seems to shine transparently with thought, while he utters, in choice and classical English, sentiments so new, so strange, so mighty, and so mad with radicalism, incorrigi ble conservatives are offended. He is a moral Columbus, who discovers whole continents of thought, and is sure to cause mutiny in the ship he sails in, because he ventures so far from the dry land on which most men build their hopes. Indeed, he is regarded as a theological corsair, and most of our great guns have been levelled at him, but he sails on uninjured, amid the roar of their opposition, although he frequently endangers his own immortal life by mistaking a whale s back for a green island. His philosophy and his divinity do not agree, for his philosophy is more divine than his divinity. He has but little faith in any part of Scripture that is not apparently susceptible of interpretations favora ble to his peculiar views of religious duty, and does not hesitate to ridicule those passages which come in collision with his "utopian" doctrines. In this way he unintention ally destroys, in the minds of many, all reverence for OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 255 religion, and obliterates the sense of moral obligation. If his hearers were all learned philosophers, his lectures would be invaluable to them ; but they consist of all classes. The wise, who sift the wheat from the chaff, may live under his teaching, but the mass, who swallow everything he offers, are in danger of suffering all the pangs of spiritual starva r tion. He is a true and thorough reformer, and advocates with great zeal and greater ability the peace reform, the temper ance reform, the anti-slavery and anti-hanging reforms. In the course of his sermon he is sure to apply the rod to " Uncle Sam s prize-fighters," the Army and the Navy. The old autocrat Alcohol will be flagellated the South will receive a blow here the church will get a whack there and the gallows will be kicked over yonder. He reminds Dne of the schoolmasters of ancient times, but he serves great men as they did little boys. Statesmen, clergymen, aristocrats, are called up and publicly chastised, if they do not say their lessons correctly. A few days ago, Daniel Webster had to hold out his hand and feel the ferrule Gen. Jass is frequently compelled to stand on the dunce-block at the Melodeon Foote has to wear the cap and bells every time he threatens to hang or shoot his fellow Senators he pats Benton on the shoulders by way of encouragement, when he speaks for freedom John P. Hale he thinks is a precocious child of great promise Ralph Waldo Emerson is so far advanced in knowledge, he would employ him as Usher in his school. 256 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Mr. Parker s matter is more fascinating than his manner Indeed, he is often awkward in his gestures and indistinct in his utterance, but he has the happy faculty of compressing a volume of meaning in a few simple words. He never appears before an audience without giving his hearers at least one drop of fragrance which contains the concentrated essence of a whole garden of roses. He is the poor man s friend, although he regards poverty as an unmitigated curse and would never be like the hypo crites who pass by on the other side when humanity ia prostrate, bleeding, and beseeching help. He has an extra ordinary share of moral courage, and wages war like a hero, against the kingdom of scoundreldom. He is fond of the company of the gods, and talks about Mars, Jupiter, Neptune, as though they had been his school-mates; is a modern among the ancients, an ancient amongst the moderns ; will tell you with perfect coolness, that Paul was not so good a writer as Socrates ; that Jesus was a perfect man, that by-and- by there will be other men as perfect as Jesus ; and that the statutes of Moses are not equal to those of Massachusetts. He seems to spurn what he cannot fathom, and condemn what he cannot comprehend. He doubts whether Christ could perform miracles, because he cannot perfoVm miracles himself; thinks inspiration is reason magnetized; the Bible an interesting, but not always reliable history of the Jews, the popular religion of the times a delusive sham; loves to trace human progress from the barbarous ages to the present time, and then look forward to a golden future. Were he to OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 257 manifest more reverence for the truths of revelation, and sho\v that he placed as much faith in God as he does in man, he would, with his varied learning and great talents, accomplish an immeasurable amount of good ; and many young men who have more faith in a newspaper than they have in the New Testament, would endorse its sentiments and follow the pre cepts of that heavenly guide. Mr. Parker is a chaste and elegant writer, his works are widely circulated and read by scholars on both continents. Although he is denounced as an infidel by his opponents, he certainly behaves like a Christian in his private intercourse with his fellow men. He thinks there is nothing in the world so sacred as man, which accounts for the fact that he hates flogging in the Navy, and is opposed to hanging, and oppression, and intemperance, and the butchery of the battle field. He is upwards of forty years of age, rather under the medium stature, head large and bald, and his face dull, until he becomes animated before an audience ; is quite popular as a lyceum lecturer, and is in great demand during the lecturing season. The subject of this sketch, though wrong in theory, is right in practice, and has courage enough to seize the social and public evils by the throat. We, as a community, are deeply indebted to him for his efforts to improve the condi tion of the unfortunate. He " goes " for baths, ventilators, hard beds, coarse food, cold water, and cheerfulness, and * goes " against tobacco, hot slops, quack medicines, thin 258 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND shoes, and tight lacing ; hates bigotry, gluttony, drunkenness, poverty, war, and slavery, and loves purity, fidelity, liberty, equality, fraternity. He is one of the most learned and gifted men in America, and is a better Christian than some of his bigoted detractors, who say he is like Noah s carpenters, who built a ship for other folks to sail in, and yet were drowned themselves. The following passage in eulogy of Amos Lawrence, who died in this city on the 31st ult, is frotn a sermon by Kev. Theodore Parker, preached on the next Sabbath. We copy from the " Commonwealth :" -% " Only two days ago, there died in this city, a man rich in money, but far more rich in manhood. I suppose he had his faults, his deformities of character. Of course he had. It takes many to make up a complete man. Humanity is so wide and deep that all the world cannot drink it dry. He came here poor ; from a country town. He came with nothing nothing but himself, I mean , and a man is not appraised, only taxed. He came obscure ; nobody knew AMOS LAWRENCE forty-five years ago, nor cared whether the handkerchief in which he carried his wardrobe, trudging to town, was large or little. He acquired a large estate : got it by honest industry, forecast, prudence, thrift. He earned what he got, and a great deal more. He was proud of his life ; honorably proud that he made his own fortune, and started with nothing but his hands. Sometimes he took gentle- iner o Groton, and showed them half-a-mile of stone-wall OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 25 G which the boy Amos had laid on the paternal homestead This was something for a rich merchant to be prcud of. " He knew what few men understand^ when to stop accumulating. At the age when the summer of passion has grown cool, and the winter of ambition begins seriously to set in ; when avarice and love of power, of distinction and of office, begin to take hold of men ; when the leaves of distinc tive generosity fall off, and the selfish bark begins to tighten about the man some twenty years ago, when he had acquired a large estate, he said to himself Enough ! No more accumulation of that sort to make me a miser, and my children worse than misers. So he sought to use nobly what he had manfully won. He didn t keep A brave old house, at a bountiful rate, With half-a-score of servants to wait at the gate. He lived comfortably, but discreetly. " His charity was greater than his estate. In the last twenty or thirty years, he has given away to the poor a larger fortune than he has left to his family. But he gave with as much wisdom as generosity. His money lengthened his arm, because he had a good heart in his bosom. He looked up his old customers whom he had known in his poorer days which were their rich ones and helped them in their need. He sought the poor of this city, and its neigh borhood, and gave them his gold, his attention, and the sympathy of his heart. He prayed for the poor, but prayed gold. He built Churches not for his own sect alone, for he 260 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND had piety without narrowness, and took religion in a natural way ; churches for Methodists, Baptists, Unitarians, for poor, oppressed black men, fugitive slaves in Canada, nay, more, he helped them in their flight. He helped colleges gave them libraries, and philosophical apparatus. He sought out young men of talents and character, but poor, and struggling for education, and made a long arm to reach down to their need, sending parcels of books, pieces of cloth to make a scholar s jacket or cloak, or money to pay his term bills. He lent money, when the loan was better than the gift. That bountiful hand was felt on the shore of the Pacific. He was his own executor, and the trustee of his own charity funds. He didn t leave it for his heirs to distribute his benevolence at their cost. At his own cost, he administered the benefactions of his testament. At the end of a fortunate year, he once found thirty thousand dollars more than he looked for, as his share of the annual profits. In a month he had invested it all in various charities. He couldn t eat his morsel alone the good man ! " His benevolence came out also in smaller things, in his daily life. He let the boys cling on behind his carriage grown men did so, but invisibly ; he gave sleigh-rides to boys and girls, and had a gentle word and kindly smile for all he met. " He coveted no distinction. He had no title, and wasn t a General, a Colonel, a Captain, or Honorable only plain Mister, Esquire, and Deacon, at the end. " His charity was as unostentatious as the dew in summer. Blessing the giver by the motive, the receiver by the quicker OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 261 life and greener growth, it made no noise in falling to the ground. ^ In Boston, which suspiciously scrutinizes righteous ness with the same eye that blinks at the most hideoua profligacy, though as public as the street even the daily press never accused his charity of loving to be looked at. " Of good judgment, good common-sense, careful, exact methodical, diligent, he was not a man of great intellect. lie had no uncommon culture of the understanding or the imagi nation, and of the higher reason still less. But in respect of the greater faculties in respect of conscience, affection, the religious element, he was well-born, well-bred, and eminently well disciplined by himself. " He was truly a religious man. I do not mean to say he thought as Calvin or Luther thought, or believed by Peter, James, or John. Perhaps he believed some things which the apostles never thought of, and rejected others which they all held in reverence. When I say that he was a religious man, I mean he loved God, and loved men. He had no more doubt that God would receive him to Heaven, than that he himself would make all men happy if he could. Reverencing God, he reverenced the laws of God I mean the natural laws of morality the laws of justice and of love. His religion was not ascetic, but good-natured and of a cheerful counte nance. His piety became morality. The first rule that he took to his counting-house was the Golden Rule ; he never laid it by, buying and selling and giving by that standard measure. So he travelled along, on that path which widens and brightens as it leads to heaven. 2C2 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND " Here was a man who knew the odds between the Means of Living and the Ends of Life. He knew the true use of riches. They served as a material basis for great manly excellence. His ton pf gold was a power to feed, to clothe, to house, and warm, and comfort needy men ; a power to educate the mind, to cheer the affections, to bless the soul. To many a poor boy, to many a sad mother, he gave a merry Christ mas on the earth, and now in due time, God has taken him io celebrate Epiphany and New Year s day in Heaven !" iVf JCButte OFF-HANO TAKIXOS. NEAL DOW. THE man who had the talent to frame and the courage to execute the Maine Law, deserves to be honored and remem bered by every patriot and philanthropist in our broad free land. N"eal Dow is the Kossuth of the temperance revolu tion, and his name is already registered in the book of fame, " among the few, tne immortal names not born to die." Poets sing his praise, painters put his shadow on their can vass historians record his deeds, and multitudes of appreci ating mothers will call their children by his name. We wrote pledges, made speeches, obtained signatures, foimed societies, and framed laws, to suppress intemperance ; we tried moral, magnetic, Bible, and ballot-box suasion ; wo plead, and prayed, and promised, and did incalculable good, but failed to accomplish the entire extinction of the rum traf fic, the consummation so devoutly desired. We were brought to a moral Panama, with a gulf of billows rolling between us and a golden California beyond, without bridge or boat to carry us safely over to the land of promise, when Neal Dow, who understood every rope in the ship, took the helm, and piloted our storm-beaten vessel into the harbor of safety. Yes, a private citizen of Maine, possessing the stern will arid Puritan zeal " of the earlier and better day," arose in the 264 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND dignity of conscious strength, and with the sweep of his strong arm wiped away the stain of black intemperance from the State. Without the aid of the Army or the Navy, he routed the most formidable and dangerous enemy that could assail the Commonwealth. Lean and pallid avarice, haggard appetite, stupid igno rance, bloated bigotry, devilish demagogueism, stood in his way, clad to the teeth in armor, but he feared them no more than Bunyan s Christian feared the beasts he met on his way to the Celestial city. He extinguished the fires of the only distillery in the State, and wrote tekel on the walls of every wine palace in Maine. Who is this modern Moses who smote the RED SEA with the rod of the law, so that the people can travel dry-shod ? He is a man who has a head to think, a heart to feel, a tongue to explain, and a hand to execute ; is respectably educated, not learned, comfortably independent, not a millionaire ; speaks conversationally, not eloquently ; is a plain, practical man, with a strong mind and an iron will. Had he lived in the days of Cromwell, he would have been a leader in the battered band that fought side by side with the " Usurper." He speaks as one having authority, and looks like one born to command. He is in the meridian of life about five feet seven inches in height, and well proportioned ; has dark hair, a square forehead, which does not at first glance indicate more than a medi ocrity of mind ; eye-brows rather ponderous, cheek-bones somewhat prominent, complexion dark. The peculiar form of his mouth and chin pronounces him a man of obstinate OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 265 firmness. There is a sort of come on, I am ready for you, look ab9iit his face, which, affords unmistakable evidence that he will not countenance the liquor trade. He looks as though he could chase a thousand rum-sellers, and with the aid of the Maine Law, put ten thousand to flight. Neal t Dow is the son of a Quaker, and surely he fights valiantly for one who has been trained to observe the prin ciples of peace. He does not claim religious relationship with any sect, but is a firm believer in the truths of Divine Revelation, and observes devotional duties in his family. For many years he has been identified with the temperance movement in Maine (his native State), where he has labored and lectured gratuitously, for the welfare of his fellow citizens. Frequently has he appeared before the Legislature with petitions praying for laws so stringent as to prohibit the liquor trade, and finally he succeeded in cutting out some work for his country. He is a tanner by trade, and although he has (I may be misinformed) retired from business, he has left the hides of many rum-sellers on the fence. Wonder if they would not make good shoes, since they are water-proof ? There is not a lawyer in the land who could have drafted a better bill than that which has so effectually excommunicated intemperance from the glorious State which is the nearest to the golden gates of sunrise. The law declares that intoxicating drinks shall not be made and sold, to be used as a beverage, in Maine that an agent shall be appointed in each city or town tc sell spirits for mechanical and medicinal purposes only that 12 266 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND common sellers shall be heavily fined and imprisoned for per sisting in violating the law that no lawless ruirtH .eller shall be allowed to sit as a juror on a rum suit that, liquors may be searched for, seized, and destroyed that in o*o of appeal, bonds must be given that the case will be pro^^cuted, and if the judgment goes against the defendant, lie must pay double the fine and suffer double the imprisonment &c., &c, Read the law, it is a good one. It has not bv/en pared down by abridgment, nor patched up with amendments. It is the people s law, and not the law of politicians. It is a terror to those who do ill, and a praise to those who do well. It is a fire annihilator, and works well out doors or in, and the effect is the same whether the building be a small one or a largo one. Success to the MAIN LAW, which is the Law of Maine. With the following impromptu we conclude this sketch Thy holy laws are stereotyped to deeds, Thy honored name is now our nation s pride ! Upon our cottage walls thy portrait shines ! We call our children by thy magic name ! Our poets laud thee in immortal verse ! Thy monuments in Maine are empty jails, Thy laurels, laws observed and unrepealed, Thy medals, grateful hearts of men redeemed, Thy friends, the noblest of the human race. E en Legislatures stop to learn thy laws, And nations shout thy name across the deep! OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 2(57 PHILIP S. WHITE. EVERYBODY said, " Let us go to the great meeting at Tre- mont Temple, this evening, and hear Philip S. White, the distinguished champion of the temperance reform." At the appointed hour, that magnificent forum was filled with the wealth, beauty, talent, and moral worth of Boston. The immense building was brilliantly illuminated, as though the sun had risen behind the orchestra, and concentrated its rays within the walls of the Temple. On the platform were some of the elite and literati of society, authors, orators, and phi lanthropists. After the usual preliminaries, at the commence ment of the exercises, skilful fingers touched the magic keys of the mammoth organ, and we were pleasantly entertained with sweet strains of delightful melody. Sometimes it seemed as if a choir of soft-voiced maidens was enclosed behind those golden columns, singing such rich, lute-like airs, that angels, on their mission of mercy, might have mistaken that place for the gate of heaven. Then the heavy bass would roll like a wave of thunder through the large hall, startling the charmed hearers to a sense of the fact that they were still under the clouds. As the music subsided, a tall, portly man, on the mellow side of fifty, arose to address the audience. "Is that the man 26S CRAYON SKETCHES, AND who stood at the head of the Order of the Sons of Ternpe ranoe ?" was the general inquiry. u It is," was th* response. The " observed of all observers," on this occasion, is a person of good mould, somewhat bald, but makes up that deficiency by a luxurious growth of Avhiskers, which become his face as feathers do an eagle. He has a large, aquiline, Bardolphian nose, dark eyes, and a wide mouth, indicative of eloquence and good nature. He commences in a conversational pitch of voice ; face dull and passionless as marble ; has spoken ten minutes without saying anything, and the sanguine expecta tions of the people are sadly disappointed. The hearers bow their heads like bulrushes, and some would leave the meeting but that they hope for better things. He is not quite so prosy now as he was fifteen minutes ago. His voice is deeper and clearer, his utterance more rapid and distinct, and his face shines as though it had been freshly oiled. There is a resurrection now among the bowed heads; he has just made a thrilling appeal, which moved the audience like a shock from an electric battery. Now he relates a tale of pity, which is drawing tears from eyes " unused to weep." Now he surprises his attentive hearers with an unanticipated stroke of humor, which makes them laugh until they shake the tear-drops from their cheeks. All are glad they came now, for the orator is in his happiest mood, his blood is up, and his tongue as free as the pen of a ready writer. He throws light on the question by the corrusca- tions of his attic wit ; drives home a truth by solid argument, and clinches it by a quotation from Scripture ; convulses the au ditory by using a ludicrous comparison ; convinces them by OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 26? presenting sober-faced statistics ; entertains them b^r relating an appropriate anecdote, and fires their indignation against th<? traffic, while the rum-dealers present shake in their shoes. Hrt warns the drinkers with a voice which arouses them like a clap of thunder through a speaking-trumpet. In a word, his spark ling satire, keen wit, eloquent declamation, happy comparisons, classical allusions, rib-cracking fun, and-heart-melting pathos, render him one of the most efficient public speakers in Ame rica. Mr. White can labor a syllogism, or tell a story, with the same ease that Talleyrand could turn a coffee-mill or a king dom. He goes for moral, legal, Bible, pocket, and ballot-box suasion. His inimitable histrionic powers enable him to tell a story admirably. He has almost omnipotent power in swaying the minds and hearts of his hearers, when he is fairly engaged, and has a sea of crystal faces before him. He speaks without notes, and is so careless, withal, that he preserves no minutes of his speeches ; consequently, when he responds to a second invitation to visit a place, he is apt to repeat the same stories, although he has an inexhaustible supply of unused material always on hand. He has studied human nature so thoroughly he knows how to reach the hearts of the masses. If the people will but listen to his lectures, they will open their mouths so earnestly he could almost reach their hearts by the way of the CEsophagus. Mr. White is personally known on the green mountains of Vermont, on the granite hills of New Hampshire, in the pleasant valley of the Connecticut, on the banks of the Mississippi ; has hosts of friends at the sunny South, at the 270 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND stormy North, and the far-off West. Years ago he made th tour of Europe. At that time he was fond of luxurious living and unweaned from the wine-cup ; he was a good judge ot Otard and Madeira, and can speak from personal experience on matters pertaining to fashionable drinking. Mr. White is a good specimen of a Kentucky gentleman gallant, generous, and urbane. Indeed, he can accommodate himself to any company, and would be a welcome guest at the table of a duke, or feel perfectly at home in the cottage of a peasant. He must have been a studious man in his day, but he has bravely overcome that habit now ; for he would rather hold a man by the button all day, entertaining him by telling stories, than to read a page or write a " stick-full " of matter for a newspaper. When he has a report to make, he will throw the burden, if he can possibly do so, on shoulders not so able to bear it as his own, and he will put off the unwelcome task to the last hour, then dash off an impromptu report, and beauty will break out of statistics and facts, like flowers on the rod of Aaron. Sometimes he visits Subordinate Divisions of his favorite Order, as well as Sections of the juvenile Cadets, to fire the zeal, strengthen the faith, and encourage the hopes of the " Sons " and their sons. I once heard him address one of the latter societies on the evils arising from the use of to bacco, but, unfortunately, he had that evening quite a gathering in his own mouth, which somewhat choked his utterance. The not altogether unusual swelling somewhat disappeared before the meeting adjourned, and it is hoped that by this time he has got entirely rid of it. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 2*71 Mr. White is good company, a good storj-teller, and a ter ror to al] liypochondriacism and dyspepsia. Blessed are they who hear his voice and see his face, for they shall laugh and grow fat. I am no stickler for empty dignity, but remain under the impression that Mr. W. is not so dignified at the fireside as he is in the forum. There are vulgar persons who call him the Hon. Philip S. White when they speak of his public efforts, and yet abbreviate the title to Phil, in their personal interourse with him. He is no favorite with those who will not "give up a pint of doctrine nor a pint of rum," for as the bottle-imp of Asmodeus unroofed the houses of Madrid, for the gratification of Le Sage s servant, so he uncovers the hearts of those whose bigotry or appetite or interest oppose the temperance reformation. Mr. White is by profession a lawyer, and, if I am correctly informed, was at one period of his life Attorney-General of one of the Western Territories. He is proud of his lineage, and is not backward in speaking about his former position in society, which is in bad taste, since he is now in a loftier position than any Baronet of England. The fraternity, I think, manifested forecast worthy of their trust when they selected him to be their leader, for his abun dant self-sacrificing and faithful labors in this country and in the neighboring Provinces, have accomplished incalculable good to the cause in general, and won unfading laurels for him in particular. He is the author of a work entitled the " War of Four Thousand Years," and a tract entitled " Vindication of the Order." It is a pity that he did not give a more Chris tian name to the first, and a matter of regret that he went 272 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND into partnership with others in writing either. His acrnirera would like to see a book from his own pen, and know that he wrote it. His idea of a national newspaper organ, to be managed by some master-mind of the National Division, does not meet with general approval, because it would be unwise to put such power into the hands of one man , because it would narrow the circulation of the local papers to the starving point ; because one sheet would not suit every meridian ; because the temperance press now in operation is not properly sustained ; because there is as much editorial tact and talent connected with the local press as can be found in the National Division ; because monopolies are monsters not favorable to the growth of Love, Purity, or Fidelity, the characteristics of our Order. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. CHARLES SUMNER. NEW YORK is the head-quarters of commerce, a great wil derness of marble and mortar, the abode of merchant princea and millionaires. Its harbor is crowded with ships from every nation, its mammoth mercantile establishments contain every variety of fabric and produce, its streets are busy as a broken ant-heap, its spires point, like fingers of pilgrims, to the land of the beautiful above, and its grog-shops are plentiful as car buncles on the face of the toper. It has the best editors, and the poorest speakers, of any city in the Union. Philadelphia is noted for handsome buildings erected on straight lines. It is the metropolis of magazinedom, where Graham and Godey make gold and win golden honors. It is famed for the bro therly love of its inhabitants, which trait is beautifully displayed in the manner in which they get up rows and send their fel low-citizens to Heaven. Boston is the bank of New-England, the beacon-light of reform, the seat of science and learning, the forum of chaste, classical, thrilling, heart-quaking, soul-stirring eloquence. There is no city in the United States that contains so much speaking talent as Boston. Baltimore is choleric, noisy, and patriotic ; Philadelphia is fastidious, lymphatic, and metaphysical; Washington is like Babel, where there is a con fusion of languages, or like a vineyard of lazy laborers, where 12* * 274 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND there is a " winey" atmosphere ; New York is energetic, bom bastic, and original ; Cincinnati is slow of speech, but sound at the heart ; Boston is radical, forcible, eloquent. Among the most eminent speakers in the modern Athens, Charles Sumner stands preeminently conspicuous, for tho classic elegance of his style, the Protean power of his thought, and the finished beauty of his illustrations. He is one of the most remarkable men of this remarkable age, and a combi nation of circumstances have rendered him the darling favorite of good fortune. He was cradled in Faneuil Hall, Judge Story was his teacher, and Harvard University the school in which he was taught. When he had availed him self of the advantages afforded by this institution of learn ing, he made the tour of the continent. England, France and Germany contributed liberally to his store of knowledge. If he has not an ample competence, he has what is better an army of friends and a thorough education. Charles Sumner is a stockholder in the bank of original thought. We may know he has considerable bullion there, for his drafts are honored at sight, and our first men are his endorsers. He has great power of condensation, without the wearisome monotony which often accompanies the writings and sayings of close thinkers and rigid reasoners. There is a vigorous and graceful stateliness, an easy felicity, a fastidious accuracy, and an imperial dignity in his style, which is both commanding and fascinating. There is a vast breadth of com prehension and a vast depth of meaning in his matter. There is also a luminous beauty, a Gothic grandeur, a sublime gor- geousness, in his labored and polished essays, which entitle OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 2*75 them to the appellation of prose poems. He sometimes invests his ideas in such lively, such attractive, such speaking, such mo.gic language, and displays so much philosophical sagacity, so much poetical sensibility, so much profound knowledge of ecclesiastical and political history, the reader and the listenei are carried away on the current, while they are admiring, almost adoring, the man whose kindling words have set their imaginations on fire. Mr. Sumner s orations are written with great care. They abound with allusions to the sayings and doings of the ancients, and manifest deep research and profound thought. His bril liant arguments at the bar have elicited unbounded admira tion, and his model manner of delivery enhances the value of his eloquent appeals. The dreary desert of a common case is sure to bloom with garden beauty under his management. The forum, however, is his forte. He has the dignity of Pitt, without his pompous declamation; the sublimity of Burke, without his tedious uniformity ; the vigor of Fox, without his roughness. He is not so fluent as the first, not so classical as the second, not so ready and original as the third. He has more solidity but less eloquence than Phillips ; more energy but less originality than Mann; more poetry and as much polish as Everett. His heart is not an island, separated from his head, but a peninsula, uniting one with the other. There is a relationship between the throb of the former and the thought of the latter. There is a joining of impulse and intel lect. The affections and the reflections are brothers and sisters- The heart thinks and feels, the head feels and thinks. 276 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND In this respect Mr. Suraner differs from not a few distin* guished men. Sumner believes in Christian law, and throws the weight of his influence, the force of his example, and the skill of his profession, in the scale of the right and true. He is a preacher of peace, a lover of freedom, a worker for prison amelioration in short, a noble soldier in the ranks of reform. With a generous, impulsive nature, he feels the woes and sut ferings of every portion of the human family. Charles Sumner is a popular man. The masses admire him because there is no " dough " in his face, no demagogueism in his politics. The turncoats, flunkeys, time-servers, office-seek ers, and political hypocrites of every party, fear him as the enemies of Greece did the Athenian orator, but they cannot despise him, they cannot ostracise him, they cannot make him false to his convictions. Hence he is the man the people delight to honor, though he seeks no popular applause. He is now in the prime of manhood, and the star of his fame is in the ascendant. In person, he is tall, well-proportioned, with a low but broad forehead, light magnetic eyes, and a luxuriant growth of dark brown hair. He has a long, uneven face, which is marked with the manly traits for which he is distinguished. His smile is very sunny and infectious, and his greeting very cordial ; he walks with firmness, and swings his arms (especially when upon the platform) as though he designed to knock down the obstacles in his way ; has a full, rich bass voice, which becomes very seductive as he proceeds in his speech, enlisting irresistibly the attention, and appealing warmly to the feelings. When he is intensely excited, the OFF-HAND TAKINGS. ZVi tones of hia voice move one like the blast of a bugle. As r orator, he has but few superiors. Mr. Simmer would excel as a diplomatist, for he has that peculiar ingenuity arid intuitive skill which would enable him to disentangle the complicated questions that would come before him for arbitrament. When his party desire to move the political world, they are apt to shift it upon his Atlantean shoulders. Is there a great gulf between Dives the demagogue, and Lazarus of his own league? He will bridge over the chasm, if it can be done, and unite them in mutual friendship, without sacrificing truth and right on the altar of compromise. But some say Mr. Sumner is not sufficiently practical. Ho hopes to see the dawn of a golden future, and mistakes the scintillating lights of the Northern skies for the sunrise of the millennial day. Although he is ambitious in worthy causes, he is wise, and patiently bides his time, without egotistically thrusting himself before the people ; is fond of fame, but when he is crowned with honors, his modesty is equal to his grati tude. Has a Faneuil-Hall-full of affectionate admirers in his own city, and multitudes of them elsewhere. As might be expected from his heart-sympathies, Mr. Sum ner early connected himself with the Free Soil party ; indeed, was one of its originators, and without question is one of the ablest men in it and politicians of all shades of opinion will agree that that party embodies a large share of intellectual, moral, and personal strength. Recent events in the political affairs of Massachusetts have placed Mr. Sumner conspicuously before the community as a candidate for the United State* 278 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Senate. If he should receive the honor of that post, he would be more of a statesman than a partisan, more of a sound, humane political economist than the mouth-piece of a faction and 1 need not say, would do honor to the State he represents. His benevolence of character never will allow him to be a party demagogue, but for all that gives dignity to manhood or exalts true political science, he has every requisite.* The following extracts are from a speech delivered in Faneuil Hal], previous to his election to a seat in the Senate of the United States. This speech is not so highly polished nor so argumentative as some of his addresses, but it is the most graphic and eloquent he has uttered. "The soul sickens in the contemplation of this legalized outrage. In the dreary annals of the past, there are many acts of shame there are ordinances of monarchs, and laws, which have become a by-word and a hissing to the nations. But, when we consider the country and the age, I ask fear lessly, What act of shame, what ordinance of monarch, what law can compare in atrocity with this enactment of an Ameri can Congress ? [ None. ] I do not forget Appius Claudius, the tyrant Decemvir of ancient Rome, condemning Virginia as a slave ; nor Louis XIV., of France, letting slip the dogs of religious persecution by the revocation of the edict of Nantes ; nor Charles I., of England, arousing the patriot-rage of Hampden by the extortion of Ship-money ; nor the British * Since the above was written, Mr. Summer has been elected to the United States Senate OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 279 Parliament, provoking, in our own country, spirits kindred tc Harnpden, by the tyranny of the Stamp Act and the Tea Tax. I would not exaggerate ; I wish to keep within bounds ; but 4 think no person can doubt that the condemnation now affixed to all these transactions, and to their authors, must be the lot hereafter of the Fugitive Slave Bill, and of every one, according to the measure of his influence, who gave it his support. [Three cheers were here given.] Into the immortal catalogue of national crimes this has now passed, drawing after it, by an inexorable necessity, its authors also, and chiefly him, who, as President of the United States, set his name to the Bill, and breathed into it that final breath without which it would have no life. [Sensation.] Other Presidents may be forgotten ; but the name signed to the Fugitive Slave Bill can never be forgotten. [ Never ! ] There are depths of infamy, as there are heights of fame. [Applause.] I regret to say what I must ; but truth compels me. Better for him had he never been born ! [Renewed applause.] Better far for his memory, and for the good name of his children, had he never been President ! [Repeated cheers.] "Surely the love of Freedom cannot have so far cooled among us, the descendants of those who opposed the Stamp Act, that we are insensible to the Fugitive Slave Bill. The unconquerable rage of the people, in those other days, com pelled the Stamp-distributors and inspectors to renounce their offices, and held up to detestation all who dared to speak in favor of the Stamps. And shall we be more tolerant of those who volunteer in favor of this Bill? [ No! no! 1 ] more 280 CRAYON SKETCHES, ANfl tolerant of the Slave-hunter, who, under its safeguard, pursues his prey upon our soil ? [ No ! rib ! ] The Stamp Act could not be executed here ? Can the Fugitive Slave Bill 2 [ Never! ] " And here, sir, let me say, that it becomes me to speak with peculiar caution. It happens to me to sustain an impor tant relation to this Bill. Early in professional life I was designated by the late Mr. Justice Story one of the Com missioners of the Courts of the United States, and though I have not very often exercised the functions of this post, yei my name is still upon the list. As such I am one of those before whom, under the recent Act of Congress, the panting fugitive may be brought for the decision of the question whether he is a freeman or slave. But, while it becomes me to speak with caution, I shall not hesitate to speak with plain ness. I cannot forget that I am a man, although I am a Commissioner. [Enthusiastic cheers.] " Did the same spirit which inspired our fathers, inspire the community now, the marshals, and every magistrate who regarded this law as having any constitutional obligation, would resign rather than presume to execute it. This, how ever, is too much to expect from all at present. But I will not judge them. To their own consciences I leave them. Surely, no person of humane feelings, and with any true sense of justice living in a land where bells have tolled to church whatever may be the apology of public station, could fail to recoil from such service. For myself, let me say that I can imagine no office, no salary, no consideration, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 281 which I would not gladly forego, rather than become in any way an agent in enslaving niy brother man. [Sensation.] Where for me would be comfort and solace, after such a work ? In dreams and in waking hours, in solitude and in the street, in the meditations of the closet, and in the affairs of men, wherever I turned, there my victim would stare me in the face ; from the distant rice-fields and cotton-plantations of the South, his cries beneath the vindictive lash, his moans, at the thought of liberty once his, now, alas ! ravished from him, would pursue me, telling the tale of his fearful doom, and sounding in my ears, Thou art the man ! [Rapturous applause.] " Sir, I will not dishonor this home of the Pilgrims, and of the Revolution, by admitting nay, / cannot believe that this Bill will be executed here. [ Never ! ] Individuals among us, as elsewhere, may forget humanity in a fancied loyality to law ; but the public conscience will not allow a man, who has trodden our streets as a freeman, to be dragged away as a slave. [Applause.] By his escape from bondage, he has shown that true manhood, which must grapple to him every honest heart. He may be ignorant, and rude, as he is poor, but he is of a true nobility. The Fugitive Slaves of the United States are among the heroes of our age. In sacri ficing them to this foul enactment of Congress, we should violate every sentiment of hospitality, every whispering of the heart, every dictate of religion. " There are many who will never shrink at any cost, and notwithstanding all the atrocious penalties of this Bill, from 282 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND efforts to save a wandering fellow-man from bondage ; the) will offer him the shelter of their houses, and, if need be, will protect his liberty by force. But, let me ""be understood, I counsel no violence. There is another power stronger than any individual arm which I invoke ; I mean that invincible Public Opinion, inspired by love of God and man, which, without violence or noise, gently as the operations of nature, makes and unmakes laws. Let this opinion be felt in its Christian might, and the Fugitive Slave Bill will become everywhere upon our soil, a dead letter. No lawyer will aid it by counsel ; no citizen will become its agent , it will die of inanition like a spider beneath an exhausted receiver. ! it were well the tidings should spread throughout the land, that here, in Massachusetts, this accursed Bill has found no servants. [Cheers.] Sire, I have found in Bayonne honest citizens and brave soldiers only ; but not one executioner, , was the reply of the governor of that place to the royal mandate of Charles IX., of France, ordering the Massacre of St. Bar tholomew. [Sensation.] " But it rests with you, my fellow-citizens, by your words and your example, by your calm determinations and your devoted lives, to do this work. From a humane, just, and religious people, shall spring a Public Opinion, to keep per petual guard over the liberties of all within our borders. Nay, more, like the flaming sword of the cherubim at the gates of Paradise, turning on every side, it shall prevent any Slave- Hunter from ever setting foot in this Commonwealth! [Cheers redoubled.] Elsewhere, he may pursue his human OFF-HAND TARINGS. 283 prey ; he may empioy nis congenial bloodhounds, and exult in his successful game. But into Massachusetts he must not come ! [Immense enthusiasm.] And yet again I say, I counsel no violence. I would not touch his person. Not with whips and thongs would I scourge him from the land. The contempt, the indignation, the abhorrence of the community, shall be our weapons of offence. Wherever he moves, he shall find no house to receive him no table spread to nourish him no welcome to cheer him. The dismal lot of the Roman exile shall be his. He shall be a wanderer, without roof, fire, or water. [Sensation.] Men shall point at him in the streets, and on the highways : " Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his pent-house lid j He shall live a man forbid. Weary seven nights, nine times nine, Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine. The villages, towns and cities shall refuse to receive the mon ster ; they shall vomit him forth, never again to disturb the repose of our community." [Repeated rounds of applause.] 284 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND OGDEJ\ T HOFFMAN. IN this country newspaper notoriety is so easily obtained, printed compliments by the column-full being sold for a dol lar or a dinner, it is not considered a difficult task to become immortal, nor very desirable to enter the prize list with such ambitious competitors for the laurel of fame. A quack who knows not the difference between the veins and the vertebra?, and a pettifogger who never read a page of law, can buy repu tation for a shilling a line, go to bed an obscure ignoramus, and find himseff famous in the morning. Now this state of society is so sickening to men of sterling talent and true genius, that few who have the ring of true metal in them care to tumble in such a promiscuous scramble for a great name. But there are men, who, like the oak king of the forest, stand firmly anchored in the soil, while saplings strew the vale or lean upon its branches, and look through its buds into the future, when the forests folded in its acorn cups shall be the pride and glory of the hills and plains. Ogden Hoffman is such a man, and his name is as familiar in the Great Metropolis and the Empire State as household words. He comes of good stock too, learned in the law. His father, Josiah Ogden Hoffman, being the contemporary of OFF-HANI; TAKINGS. 285 Thomas Addis Emmet, Judge Story, Williams, and others of that calibre, when to maintain one s position in the forensic arena was no child s play. And he occupied the bench too at a time when it was the reward of deep study and great ability, not as now, often obtained as the result of successful political chicanery. His brother, Charles Fenno Hoffman, has occupied in the literary world, both as a brilliant poet (he has written some of the sweetest things in our language), and as a novelist, a position of enviable notoriety. But to return to Ogden, the subject of our present sketch. Who, among the inhabitants of New York, does not recollect the sensation that occurred in the minds of the people in the good old days of Andrew Jackson and old-fashioned democracy, when the news was spread abroad that Ogden Hoffman and Dudley Selden, mem bers of Congress from this city, had refused " to go the whole hog," but had come out flat-footed, uncompromising whigs ? Deep was the chagrin of the b hoys, and as great the transport of their opponents. And to this day, wherever there is a whig gathering, and the masses are to be stirred up with soul- breathing eloquence, there will be heard the trumpet voice of Hoffman, urging them to do their duty as men, and to vote as becomes freemen. The great power of Hoffman is before a jury. There is a sweetness, a pleasantness about his eloquence that is very difficult to withstand, and when excited his powerful voice will ring like a clarion, and at one moment he will draw teara from your eyes for the sorrows of his client, and at anothel 286 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND convulse you with indignation for the wrongs he has suffered. The famous Richard P. Robinson, in the Helen Jewett case, no doubt owed his acquittal to his matchless eloquence. Mr. Hoffman we should judge to be about fifty years of age, of medium height, rather inclining to be stout. He has a noble forehead and finely-formed head, from which (from too much mental application probably), the hair is worn off on the back part. He has fine, expressive eyes, and a countenance generally denoting kindness and benevolence of heart. He is a gentleman in every sense of the word, urbane in his manners, and polite in his address, and has drank deep at the fountains of both law and general literature. No man in this part of the country is more deservedly popular. He now holds the responsible office of Attorney-General of the State of New York. It is truly refreshing to find a man whose solid learning, sound sense, and professional ability have been appreciated, while so many shams and pettifoggers are angling in every petty quarrel or political puddle for the fish which has the tribute money. E. L SNOW. THE HON. E. L. SNOW, who has won an enduring reputa^ tion as a consistent and conscientious temperance man, was born in Boston, in the State of Massachusetts, where he was educated and honored with various positions of public trust. He represented one of the wealthiest wards in the Puritan OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 287 city in the Common Council, and held high office in the Fira Department. In 1830, he left Boston and commenced business in the city of New York. Ten years afterwards, when the Washingtoniana began that reform which revolutionized the drinking usages of society, he attended their meetings, became convinced of the illegitimacy and wickedness of the rum-traffic, in which he was engaged affixed his signature to the pledge, and forth with discontinued the disreputable business. From that time he has been a constant and efficient advo cate and promoter of Temperance. In 1842, he assumed the editorial management and proprietorship of the New York Organ, one of the ablest journals devoted to the temperance enterprise. On the 29th of September, 1842, he, with fifteen others, instituted the order of the Sons of Temperance, and he had the distinguished honor of being chosen the first Worthy Associate of that order. In 1846, as a compliment to him for his invaluable services in spreading the principle of the Sons of Temperance, his friends instituted the order of the " Snow Social Union " a society composed of ladies and gentlemen Colonel Snow was unanimously chosen commander of the first temperance military company known in the United States or the world " The New York Temperance Guards," a noble body of men, numbering sixty guns. For several years this gen tleman was connected with the New York police establish ment, and in 1844 he was appointed Mayor s Marshal by the Hon. James Harper, and soon after received from the Common Council the appointment of Clerk of Police. He 288 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND opened a pledge-book at his desk, and during the four years of his clerkship he obtained upwards of ten thousand name? to the total abstinence pledge. In November, 1851, he wa^ nominated for the Assembly, and after a severe contest, was elected by a majority of three votes. His election was con tested before the Board of Canvassers, and declared duly elected. In January he took his seat in the Legislature. But his opponent followed him to Albany, and a committee from the Assembly heard the evidence and counsel from both sides, and reported that he was entitled to his seat. After ward, however, at five o clock in the morning, when the House had been in session all night, and some of his friends were absent, and many of his enemies were intoxicated, or bribed, or both, his seat was declared vacant. But he still continues an active and able expounder of our principles being an able debater and a forcible writer. He is six feet three inches in height, stoutly built, handsomely framed, and erect as a liberty-pole. He has the voice of a Stentor, and can fill the ears of twenty thousand hearere. Success to him, and honor to his cause. THOMAS FRANCIS MEAGHER. THOMAS FRANCIS MEAGHER, the eloquent Irish Nationalist, is a native of Waterford. He was born August 3d, 1823. His father, the present representative of that borough, in the British Senate, was a merchant, extensively engaged in the Newfoundland trade, from which he realized a fine fortune. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 289 At the age of nine, the hero of this sketch was sent to the Jesuit College of Clongowes Wood, in the county of Kildare, where he remained six years, when he was removed to the celebrated College Stonyhurst, near Preston, in Lancashire, England, where, among other distinguished men, Richard Lalor Sheil was educated. Although Meagher was more devoted to pleasure than study, he bore away the bell from all competitors, for the prizes for rhetoric and English com position. In 1843, he left Stonyhurst, and soon afterwards attended he great National Meeting, under the auspices of O Connell, which took place at Kilkenny, and here the youthful orator made his first appearance, although not yet twenty years of age. From that day his heart and soul were dedicated and devoted to the welfare of Ireland. In 1848, the "Confederation" adopted an address to the French, on their achievement of a republic, and Meagher was one of the delegates selected to present it to the Provisional Government in Paris. On his return, he presented an Irish tricolor to the citizens of Dublin. " From Paris," said he, " I trust that beneath its folds, the hand of the Irish Catholic, and the Irish Protestant, may be clasped in generous and heroic brotherhood. Should this flag be destined to fan the flames of war, let England behold once more, upon that white centre " the red hand " that struck her down from the hills of Ulster ; and I pray that heaven may bless the vengeance it is sure to kindle." On the 21st of March, Meagher was arrested on a charge 13 290 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND of sedition, as also were Mitchel and O Brien ; bail was a 9 cepted for their appearance at the Court of Queen s Bench, The passage of the Treason Felony Act, their speaking and organizing being peremptorily forbidden, the opposition of the priesthood, with a combination of other causes, precluded the possibility of "their rising by harvest time." Mitchel was arrested a second time, and a reward of 500 offered for the " Young Rebel " (Meagher). After a series of adventures he was finally captured near Rathgannon, on the road between Clonoulty and Holy Cross ; this was in the month of August. He was tried in October, and the sentence of death pro nounced against him. The sentence was subsequently com muted to banishment for life, and on the 9th of July, 1849, he was transported to Van Diemen s Land, from which place he escaped in 1852. In December, 1852, "The Speeches of Thomas Francis Meagher " on the Legislative Independence of Ireland, were collected, and published by Redfield. New York, with elabo rate notes on the state of Ireland, and the cotemporary his tory of the European revolutions, by his friend, Mr. John Savage. It at once rose in public favor, and is, we believe, at present in the fifth edition. A critic in a southern journal speaking of the subject of our sketch, says : "As an orator, Meagher stands original and alone. He is no copy of a copy, no second-hand Cicero or diminutive Demosthenes ; he can neither imitate nor be imi tated ; he is a master who has had no model, and no follower. His figure ^nd features are not more his own than his elo- OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 291 quence ; and his words are unaffectedly natural offsprings of his soul, as his frowns or smiles. Out of the great mine of his heart does he dig his huge thoughts, reined all by threads of gold, which sparkle in the sun." This is great praise ; but the power capable of raising the indignation and chas tisement of the politic British Government must certainly be of no medium or mediocre character. The modesty of Mr. Meagher is only surpassed by his bril liant talents. When before an audience, he has not only the " poet s vision and the faculty divine," but a river-like flow of graceful and beautiful language. His lectures and speeches, to which reference has already been made, abound in appro priate imagery, striking illustration, classic allusion, and poeti cal expression. His voice is rich and full, and gives unmis takable evidence that a man stands behind it. In manner he is polite, pleasant and frank, but dignified. In person he is rather robust, with a florid complexion, blue eyes, and dark brown hair. Although a Catholic, it is evident he is no favo rite with the Jesuit priesthood indeed, until quite recently they have treated him with indignity, having pelted him with paragraphs in the newspapers, and bespattered him with hints from the pulpit. At the present writing he is in California, where he is making a great sensation among the people in the golden land. He is one of the editors of the Citizen, and it is to be hoped he does not sympathise with his co-laborer on the subject of slavery. He is a great favorite with the masses everywhere, and almost idolized by his own countrymen. Crowded houses greet him in city and country, and handsome compensation rewards his labors. 292 CRAYON SKETCHES. AND WENDELL PHILLIPS. WENDELL PHILLIPS is the Patrick Henry of New-England If he has less natural eloquence, less thrilling pathos, than the orator of the Revolution, he has more polish and as much power of origination. He is a ripe scholar, a lawyer of no ordinary calibre, a magazine writer of considerable note, and a reformer of the most radical school. He is the pet speaker of the East. He has great power of perception, sincere sympathy for the oppressed, and wonderful command over the stores of varied knowledge treasured up in his retentive memory. He has the " gifts that universities cannot bestow," the current coin that cannot be counterfeited " the prophet s vision," the poet s fancy, the light of genius. He is at home on the mountain-top, and when he soars skyward he is not lost among the clouds ; has all the sagacity of the man of business united with the enthusiasm of the Utopian, and seems to be equally related to Maia the Eloquent, and Jupiter the Thunderer. He admires the eternal, the infinite, the heaven- like, the God-approximating in the nature of man, whatever may be the color of the envelope that contains these attri butes. Mr. Phillips s speeches have in them the breath of life hence they live long to swell the bosom and make the heart OFF-HA^D TAKINGS. 2U3 throb. " He does not go to the lamp of the old schools to light his torch, but dips it into the sun, which accounts for its gorgeous effulgence." He is something of a metaphysician, but is too much absorbed in the work of revolutionizing public sentimeni, to devote his attention to subtle research and profound analysis. He makes but little preparation, and always speaks extemporaneously ; consequently some of his addresses are like a beautiful damsel in deshabille ; then his quotations are ringlets rolled up in papers, and the main part of the lecture like a loose gown, which now and then reveals a neck of pearl and a voluptuous bust of snowy whiteness and beautiful proportions. He is often brilliant, never tedious. Sometimes his scholarship is seen conspicuously, but it is never pompously displayed. It is a rich treat to hear Wendell Phillips speak to a large and appreciative audience. Let the reader fancy he is at a mass meeting in some forest temple. The sun shines as though delighted with the gathering ; the shy birds perch in silence on the neighboring trees, as though they were aston ished at the proceedings; a song makes the welkin ring. The chairman announces the name of a favorite speaker. A genteel man steps gracefully upon the platform. He is neatly, not foppishly, dressed. A pleasant smile illuminates his noble face. He leaps, at a single bound, into the middle of the subject. He reasons, and his logic is on fire ; he des cribes, and the subject is daguerreotyped on the retina of memory; he quotes from some classic author, and the ex cerpt is like an apple of gold in a picture of silver ; he tells 294 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND a story, and the impression it gives is indelible ; he makes an appeal, and tears flow freely; he declaims, and the people are intensely excited ; he soars, and his lips are- touched with a live coal from the altar of inspiration. Mr. Phillips believes in a " higher law," so he appeals to the sense of the everlasting in man. " He plays the Titanic game of rocks, and not a game of tennis-balls," and yet he "floods the heart with singular and thrilling pleasure." " He is the primed mouth piece of an eloquent discharge, who presents, applies the linstock and fires off ;" and the conservatives, who stand with their fingers in their ears, are startled by the report. Is there a mob ? his words are like oil on the troubled billows of the chafed sea ; he rebukes the winds of strife and the waves of faction, and there is a great calm. The serene face of his bosom-friend, the leader of the league, is radiant with smiles ; the severe front of a turncoat or a tyrant present, begins to relax ; the doughface is ashamed of himself, and determines that hereafter he will be " a doer and not dough ;" the stiff- limbed finds a hinge in his joints, and his supple knees bow in homage to the speaker. But I must find some fault, or I shall be deemed a flatterer. Let me see what shall I say ? " Oh, he is an impracticable radical; he goes for the dissolution of the Union, the dismemberment of the church, the destruction of the political parties." In this he is partly right and partly wrong. The Christian should do for Christ s sake what the worldling does for the sake of humanity, then there will be no necessity for such a reproof. The body politic should sever OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 295 the leprous limb of slavery, and then America would not limp so as to become the laughing-stock and a by-word of the nations of the earth. The political parties at the North are leavened with anti-slavery doctrines, and it is hoped they will soon rise to the level of that benevolence which will render such rebukes unnecessary. I declare it is difficult for me to find any fault in him. Reader, you may be Herod, but I cannot be Pilate, and consent to his crucifixion. I must con fess that I love the man, although I cannot endorse all his creed. It is a pity that he limits his usefulness by his fierce warfare against men and measures that are too long or too short for his iron bedstead. Mr. Phillips is a man of fortune, and one of the distinguished few who contribute to support the enterprise in which he feels an interest as much as he expends in sustaining himself and famity. Physically he is a noble specimen of a man. His head is sparingly covered with reddish hair " The golden treasure nature showers down [On those foredoomed to wear Fame s golden crown." A. phrenologist would pronounce his head worth more than the South would be willing or able to give for it. He has large ideality and sublimity, hence he soars ; large comparison and causality, so he reasons by analogy ; large hope and benevolence, and the genial sunshine of good-nature irradi ates his countenance ; large firmness and adhesiveness, and he abides by his friends through evil and through good report. His face is pleasant, and indicates exquisite taste, pure gene- 296 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND rosity, and Roman firmness. He is now in the full vigor of manhood, and ever ready at a moment s warning to bat Je for what he deems the right. Woe be unto the man who enters the arena with him, for he wields a two-edged sword of Damascus steel. Many strong men have been slain by him ; yea, many mighty men have fallen before him. Had he united with either of the great political parties, he would have been chosen as a champion, for he is brilliant as Choate, without his bedlamitish idiosyncrasies ; clear as Clay, without his accommodating, compromising disposition ; learned as Winthrop, without his bookishness and drawing-room man nerism ; genial as Cass, without his dulness ; fiery as Benton, wkhout his unapproachable self-sufficiency. He would enter tain a promiscuous audience better than either of the above- named men. He is not so logical as Webster; not so luminous as the ever-consistent Calhoun ; not so learned as the second Adams ; not so thrilling as Kentucky s favorite ; and yet he is a more instructive and a more interesting speaker than either of those distinguished men ever were, even in their palmiest days. Wendell Phillips is universally esteemed and beloved Even those who hate his creed, and dread his power, admire his disinterested kindness and irresistible eloquence. I regret that I have room for only the following extracts, from the last annual report of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society. " Neither would I be understood as denying that we us denunciation, and ridicule, and every other weapon that the OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 297 human mind knows. We must plead guilty, if there be guilt in not knowing how to separate the sin from the sinner. With all the fondness for abstractions attributed to us, we are not yet capable of that. We are fighting a momentous battle at desperate odds one against a thousand. Every weapor that ability or ignorance, wit, wealth, prejudice or fashion can command, is pointed against us. The guns are shotted to their lips. The arrows are poisoned. Fighting against such an array, we cannot afford to confine ourselves to any one weapon. The cause is not ours, so that we might, rightfully, postpone or put in peril the victory by moderating our demands, stifling our convictions, or filing down our rebukes to gratify the sickly taste of our own, or to spare the delicate nerves of our neighbor. Our clients are three millions of slaves, standing dumb suppliants at the threshold of the Chris tian world. They have no voice but ours to utter their complaints, or to demand justice. The press, the pulpit, the wealth, the literature, the prejudices, the political arrange ments, the present self-interest of the country, are all against us. God has given us no weapon but the truth, faithfully uttered, and addressed with the old prophet s directness, to the conscience of the individual sinner. The elements which control public opinion and mould the masses are against us. We can but pick off here and there a man from the triumphant majority. We have facts for those who think arguments for those who reason ; but he who cannot be reasoned out of his prejudices, must be laughed out of them ; he who cannot be argued out of his selfishness, must bi 13* 298 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND shamed out of it by the mirror of "his hateful self held up relentlessly before his eyes. We live in a land where every man makes broad his phylactery, inscribing thereon, All men are created equal God hath made of one blood all nations of men. It seems to us that in such a land there must be, on this question of slavery, sluggards to be awakened as well as doubters to be convinced. Many more, we verily believe, of the first, than of the last. There are far more dead hearts to be quickened, than confused intellects to be cleared up more dumb dogs to be made to speak, than doubting consciences to be enlightened." (Loud cheers.) # * % * * * " All this I am not only ready to allow, but I should be ashamed to think of the slave, or look into the face of my fellow-man, if it were otherwise. It is the only thing that justifies us to our own consciences, and makes us able to say we have done, or at least tried to do, our duty. " So far, however you distrust my philosophy, you will not doubt my statements. That we have denounced and rebuked with unsparing fidelity will not be denied. Have we not also addressed ourselves to that other duty, of arguing our ques tion thoroughly of using due discretion and fair sagacity in endeavoring to promote our cause ? Yes, we have. Every statement we have made has been doubted. Every principle we have laid down has been denied by overwhelming majori ties against us. No one step has ever been gained but by the most laborious research and the most exhausting argument. And no question has ever, since Revolutionary days, been so OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 299 thoroughly investigated or argued here, as that of slavery Of that research and that argument, of the whole of it, the old- fashioned, fanatical, crazy, Garrisonian Anti-Slavery move ment has been the author. From this band of men has pro ceeded every important argument or idea that has been broached on the Anti-Slavery question from 1830 to the pre sent time. (Cheers.) I am well aware of the extent of the claim I make. I recognise, as fully as any one can, the abi lity of the new laborers the eloquence and genius with which they have recommended this cause to the nation, and flashed conviction home on the conscience of the community. * * * * * * " At present, our leading men, strong in the support of large majorities, and counting safely on the prejudices of the com munity, can afford to despise us. They know they can over awe or cajole the present ; their only fear is the judgment of the future. Strange fear, perhaps, considering how short and local their fame ! But however little, it is their all. Our only hold upon them is the thought of that bar of posterity, before which we are all to stand. Thank God, there is the elder brother of the Saxon race across the water there is the army of honest men to come ! Before that jury we summon you. We are weak here out-talked, out-voted. You load our names with infamy, and shout us down. But our words bide their time. We warn the living that we have terrible memo ries, and that their sins are never to be forgotten. We will gibbet the name of every apostate so black and high that his children s children shall blush to bear it. Yet we bear no 300 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND malice cherish no resentment. We thank God that the love of fame, that last infirmity of noble minds, is shared by the ignoble. In our necessity, we seize this weapon in the slave s behalf, and teach caution to the living by meting out relent less justice to the dead. How strange the change death pro duces in the way a man is talked about here ! While leading" men live, they avoid as much as possible all mention of slavery, from fear of being thought abolitionists. The moment they are dead, their friends rake up every word they ever contrived to whisper in a corner for liberty, and parade it before the world; growing angry, all the while, with us, because we insist on explaining these chance expressions by the tenor of a long and base life. While drunk with the temptations of the present hour, men are willing to bow to any Moloch. When their friends bury them, they feel what bitter mockery, fifty years hence, any epitaph will be, if it cannot record of one living in this era, some service rendered to the slave ! These, Mr. Chairman, are the reasons why we take care that the memory of the wicked shall rot."" OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 301 j ELIHU BURRITT. " Our country is the world ; our countrymen are all mankind." ANON. A SHORT time ago the friends of Peace called a meeting at the Park street Church, for the purpose of appointing delegates to attend the World s Peace Convention, on the banks of the Maine. In consequence of the inclemency of the weather, and the unbusinesslike manner in which he meeting was advertised, there were but few persons present ; but the distinguished gentlemen who were called upon to address that audience might have consoled themselves with the reflection that what their assembly lacked in number it made up in talent, learning, influence, and moral worth. The chief object of attraction, at this meeting, was Elihu Burritt, the " learned blacksmith." He sat on the first seat opposite the pulpit, with his back toward the audience, his head resting on his hand, and his eyes closed most of the time, during the delivery of the speeches. Thomas Drew, Jr., immortalized as Burritt s " blower and striker " at the forge and anvil of reform, was busy with pencil and paper in one of the side pews. The hearers waited peaceably but impatiently for Mr. Burritt to take the rostrum, and when it was announced that he would speak, every countenance becama 302 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND radiant with joyful anticipation. Mr. Burritt arose in a quiet ; unpretending manner, and modestly responded to the jnvitation to speak. He stood on the top stair of the pulpit, and at first seemed to shrink back bashfully from the gaze of the upturned faces before him. Although he is no coward, I have no doubt his heart beat as though it would batter a breach through its tenement when he first unsealed his lips in the presence of that assembly. In fact, the contour of his face, and the tones of his voice, are the tell-tales which pub lished his lack of self-conceit. Mr. Burritt is now in the meridian of his manhood, but his premature baldness is his apology for wearing a wig. He has a towering forehead, but, owing to the large development of the perceptive faculties, it appears to retreat. I think his eyes are blue, when they do not blaze. His face indicates perseverance that will not falter, and integrity that will not disappoint. He speaks slowly, distinctly, and forcibly, with out ever uttering a foolish thing. He has a peculiarity of tone which is unreportable, but which tells with thrilling effect on the hearts of his hearers, when he enters earnestly into the subject he discusses. All who have heard him must acknowledge that his matter is as full of thought as an egg is of meat. He employs facts and statistics in his speeches and editorials, but they have the varied beauty of the rainbow, and the golden glow of sunlight, when viewed through the prism of his rich imagination. The following extract from thfc London edition of the little volume entitled " Sparks from the Anvil" will give tho OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 303 reader an idea of Mr. Burritt s style of writing. In ar article on temperance, lie alludes to the history of a distin guished statesman who had been snatched as a brand from the liquid burning: "And he was found, with all the resuscitated vigor of his talents, exhuming, as it were, his fellow beings, who, like him, had been buried before the} were dead. Massachusetts welcomed him back to her embrace with emotions of maternal joy, and invited the returning pleiad to resume his rank among the stars of her crown. The doors of her halls and churches were thrown open to the newly-returning prodigal, and many were touched to life and salvation, at the burning eloquence which fell from his lips. Sister states heard of this new Luther in temper ance, and he obeyed their call. He stood up in their cities like Paul in the midst of Mars Hill, and, with an eloquence approaching inspiration, set forth the strange doctrine of total abstinence. That man, unfortunately, was led astray by fiends in human form, but a band of Washingtonian& persuaded him to sign the pledge once more, and this time it was an unviolated policy of insurance against the fires of destruction." He concluded that graphic sketch in the follow ing words : " That man is again a giant, and he is abroad ; look out for him ! Like Samson, he is feeling for the pillars of the temple of Bacchus, and he will ere long revenge the loss of his locks by a mighty overthrow of that doomed edifice." It affords the writer no small degree of pleasure to lift up the curtain which hangs between the past and the present, 304 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND and look back to the time when the now eminent champion of peace first put on his paper cap and leather apron, and made the forge blaze and the hammer ring. He did not dream, then, that he one day would "beat swords into ploughshares, and spears into pruning-hooks." His friends did not at that time give him credit for any striking mani festations of genius. To use his own words, he was a " plodding, patient, persevering " lad, gathering by " the process of accretion, which builds the ant-heap, particle by particle, thought by thought, fact by fact." In this way he worked and studied, night by night, for years, with " blistered hands and brightening hope," at lessons which have made him shine a star of the first magnitude in the firmament of fame. In the summer of 1838, Governor Everett, of Massachu setts, in an address to an association of mechanics in Boston, took occasion to mention that a blacksmith of that State had, by his unaided industry, made himself acquainted with fifty languages! Prior to this announcement, Mr. Burritt had lived in obscurity, and the fame of his acquirements did not extend beyond the smoke of his work-shop. When Mr. Nelson called on Mr. B. at Worcester, he found him at his anvil. When told what the Governor had reported respecting him, he modestly replied that the Governor had done him more than justice. It was true, he said, that he could read about fifty languages, but he had not studied them all critically. Yankee curiosity had induced him to look at the Latin Grammar ; he became interested in it, and persevered, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 305 and, filially, acquired a thorough knowledge of that language, He then studied the Greek with equal care. An acquaintance with these languages had enabled him to read, with equal facility, the Italian, the French, the Spanish, and the Portu guese. The Russian, to which he was then devoting his odd moments, he said, was the most difficult of any he had undertaken. He went to Worcester to secure the advantages of an antiquarian library, to which the trustees allowed him free access. He spent eight hours at the forge, eight hours in the library, and the remaining eight hours of each day in recreation and rest. After he had studied Hebrew, and made himself acquainted with its cognate languages the Syriac, Chaldaic, Arabic, Samaritan, Ethiopic, <fec., he turned his attention to the languages of Europe, and studied French, Spanish, Italian, and German, under native teachers. He then pursued the Portuguese, Flemish, Danish, Swedish, Norwegian, Icelandic, Welsh, Gaelic, Celtic, &c. It is somewhat remarkable that a man who has devoted so much of his time to the acquisition of languages, that he is a living polyglot, should have such mighty mathe matical powers. Figures tumble from his pen like seeds from a sack when the string is untwined from its throat. There are but few men of past or present times, that can excel him in description. Take the following graphic sketch of the iron horse, as a specimen of his skill in that department of literature : " I love to see one of these creatures, with sinews of brass and muscles of iron, strut forth from his smoky stable, and, 306 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND saluting the long train of cars with a dozen sonorous puffs from his iron nostrils, fall back gently into his harness. There he stands, champing and foaming upon the iron track, his great heart a furnace of glowing coals, his lymphatic blood is boiling in his veins, the strength of a thousand horses is nerving his sinews he pants to be gone. He would * snake St. Peter s across the desert of Sahara, if he could be fairly hitched to it; but there is a little, sober-eyed, tobacco-chewing man in the saddle, who holds him in with one finger, and can take away his breath in a moment, should he grow restive or vicious. I am always deeply interested in this man, for, begrimed as he may be with coal, diluted in oil and steam, I regard him as the genius of the whole machinery, as the physical mind of^that huge steam-horse." Mr. Burritt believes that God has made of one blood all the nations of the earth, and he aims to unite them by the fraternal chain of brotherhood. He looks upon war as an inexcusable evil, and labors manfully for its extirpation. He would dismantle the arsenal, disband the army, spike the cannon, and reforge the cutlass ; he would take our ships of war and " lade them down to the water s edge with food and covering for human beings." " The ballast should be round clams, or the real quahaugs, heavy as cast iron, and capital for roasting. Then he would build along up, filling every square inch with well-cured provisions. He would have a hogshead of bacon mounted into every port-hole, each of which should discharge fifty hams a minute, when the ship was brought into action ; and the state-rooms should be filled OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 301 with well-made garments, and the taut cordage and tha long tapering spars should be festooned with boys jackets and trous6rs. Then, when there should be no more room for another cod-fish or herring, or sprig of catnip, he would run up the white flag of peace. He would throw as many hams into the city in twenty-four hours as there were bomb-shells and cannon balls thrown into Keil by the besieging armies ; he would barricade the low, narrow streets with loaves of bread ; would throw up a breast-work, clear around the market-place, of barrels of flour, pork and beef, and in the middle raise a stack of salmon and cod-fish as large as a small Methodist meeting-house, with a steeple to it, and a bell in the steeple, and the bell should ring to all the city bells, and the city bells should ring to all the people to come to market and buy provisions, without money and without price. And white flags should everywhere wave in the breeze on the vanes of steeples, on mast-heads, on flag-staffs along the embattled walls, on the ends of willow sticks, borne by the romping, laughing, trooping children. All the blood-colored drapery of war should bow and blush before the stainless standard of peace, and generations of Anglo-Saxons should remember, with mutual felicitations, the conquest of the white flag, or the storming of Quebec." Mr. Burritt has made his mark upon this age a mark which time will not erase. His society is courted by the great men of Europe and America. He quietly suggests a world s convention, and Senators, members of Parliament, Baronets, and crowned heads, hearken to his counsels. He is 308 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND the same great and good man, whether in the smithy, talking with the hard-handed nailers, or in the magnificent forum, pleading for peace, in presence of the dignitaries of the land. He strives to smite off the clanking manacles from the uplifted hands of the bleeding slave, and to strike down the monster that wades in blood, and to build up the temple of universal peace, and to weld the world in an unbroken band of eternal brotherhood. He sees a spirit of selfishness abroad that would rob earth of its flowers and heaven of its lights, disinherit the angels, uncrown the Almighty, and sit upon the throne of the universe. So he has unfurled the white banner, and is now leading the crusaders of a good cause, to a battle where no blood will be shed, but where that evil, selfish spirit will he subdued, and peace shall triumph ! OFF-HAND TAKINGS 309 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. NATURE has not a more appreciating admirei and devou. worshipper than William Cullen Bryant. The beautiful trees, when covered with green foliage, or crowned with the golden pomp of Autumn, or glassed in the ice of winter, as they stand with root clasped in root, and branch embracing branch, like a band of brothers, have been his instructors. The sweet sisterhood of flowers, gleaming like drops of sky and sunbeam, and rainbow, are the pets of his passionate love. The warbling birds, pouring forth their roundelays, or building their soft, round nests, or sitting on their spot ted eggs, or cutting the air with swift-moving pinions, are his favorites. So are the lakes, shining like broaches set in emerald on the bosom of the earth so are the streams sweeping like silver sickles through the green fields and forests. The rock is an altar on which he would offer the sacrifice of a song each stanza burning with holy fire, when, on the mountain sod he stands, with his feet on the earth and his heart in Heaven the mountain is a footstool which touches the throne of God, and he kneels there. He looks upon the sea with sublime emotions, and the spirit which moves upon the waters stirs the great deep of his soul. 310 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND " He can impart substance to shadows, and spirit to storms put an Oread on every hill, and plunge a Naiad into every gushing spring " " Ah ! Bard, tremendous in sublimity, Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood, Wandering alone with finely frenzied eye, Beneath some vast, old, tempest-swinging wood, Awhile with mute awe gazing I would brood, Then weep aloud in a wild ecstasy." Mr. Bryant is one of the most polished poets of the age No one in America approximates more closely to perfection of finish than he. He is generally meditative, always in earnest, often sad. He has never been "guilty of literary larceny ; has never violated the exact rules of exquisite taste : has never published a mediocre poem from his own pen, and although for many years connected with the daily press, he has never wantonly assailed a brother bard or any one else, but has invariably exhibited that Christian courtesy for which ho is preeminently distinguished. As for his style, it is so accurate, so elegant, so in accordance with the "decora of composition" he has been regarded by some, as cold and conservative, and without genius but such is not the case. It is true he has not the versatility of Willis, nor the fire of Whittier, nor the humor of Lowell, nor the eloquent radi calism of Pierpont ; but he is not a whit behind them in his appreciation of nature, and far ahead of them in artistic skill, and unsurpassed by any American writer in descriptive power. He is not only a scholarly man of superb talents, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 311 but a man of remarkable genius, whose writings will be a> fresh as nature, centuries hence, when the writings of many of his cotemporaries, overestimated now, will be confined to the closet of the antiquarian. He was a precocious child ; when but thirteen years of age he wrote a poem, from which T copy the following lines : " Oh, might some patriot rise, the gloom dispel, Chase Error s mist, and break the magic spell! But vain the wish, for hark the murmuring meed Of hoarse applause from yonder shed proceed. Enter and view the thronging concourse there. Intent with gaping mouth and stupid stare, While in their midst their supple leader stands, Harangues aloud and flourishes his hands." The "Waterfowl" is one of the most beautiful and perfect poems in the language. " Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? " Vainly the fowler s eye, Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along. " Seekest thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide ; Or, where the rocking billows rise and sink, On the chafed ocean side ? 312 CRAYON SKETCHES, J.ND " There is a power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air, Lone, wandering, but not lost. " All day thy wings have fann d, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near. "And soon that toil shall end; Soon shalt thou find a summer home and rest, And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend, Soon, o er thy sheltered nest. " Thou rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form, yet, on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. " He, who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight. In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright." Edgar A. Poe, says that the poem entitled " Oh, Fairest of the Rural Maids," will strike every poet as the truest poem written by Bryant. It is richly ideal. Here are a few passages which prove their author a man of lofty genius, and not a mere man of talent and erudition. " Breezes of the south, That toss the golden and the flame-like flowers." OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 313 ** And pass the prairie hawk, that, poised on high. Flaps his broad wings, yet moves not." " The great heavens Seem to stoop down upon the scene in love, Till twilight blushed, and lovers walked and wooed In a forgotten language, and old tunes From instruments of unremembered form, Gave the soft winds a voice." {! The mountains that infold, in their wild sweep, the colored landscape round, Seem groups of giant kings in purple and gold, That guard the enchanted ground." " So live, that, when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one, that draws the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down in pleasant dreams." Rumor says, that the magnificent lines, last quoted, were never read by Thomas Campbell, the author of the "Pleasures of Hope," without causing him to shed tears. Mr. Bryant is a native of Cummington, Massachusetts. His father was an eminent physician, distinguished for his learning, and taste, and scientific attainments. When our author was sixteen years of age, he entered Williams college, where he was eminent for his attainments. He commenced the study of law in 1812 ; and was admitted to the bar three 14 314 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND years afterwards, and forthwith commenced practice ic ci-i town of Great Barrington. He was but little more than ,gh- teen years of age when he wrote " ThanStopsis," which was first published in the North American Review. In 1821, he delivered " The Ages " before a literary society in Harvard. After ten years practice at the law, he removed to New York, and devoted himself to literary pursuits in the society of such men as Verplanck, Sands, Legget, &c. In 1826, he assumed the chief management of the " Evening Post ;" a position he still occupies with honor to himself, and credit to his craft. The Post is one of the most readable and influential jour nals on this continent. Of course, no true poet can counte nance oppression; and when the question of slavery was first agitated by leading men, in and out of his party, he wielded his pen in defence of the weak and down-trodden. He has been a vigorous opposer of the Fugitive Slave Bill ; and like a brave, honest man, fearlessly trips up the infamous intriguers, who make the auction block their platform. Mr. Bryant is a reformer, and is classed among the "Softs" of the democratic party the term, however, applies more to the hearts than it does to the heads of the humane leaders in the ranks to which he belongs. Mr. Bryant is upwards of fifty years of age, about five feet nine inches in height, with rather athletic frame ; he has a large, thin, sallow face, lit up with a pair of sharp, grey eyes, which twinkle like stars, under heavy eye-brows his countenance indicates the reserved dignity for which he ia noted ; his forehead is broad, head quite bald, hair fine, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 315 soft, and grey, with whiskers to match ; he dresses with neat ness and simplicity. Notwithstanding the sternness of hia smile, and the sedateness of his physiognomy, he is genial as the sunshine, and his heart overflows with generosity. If General Pierce was king, and not President, he could not do a wiser thing than to make the greatest poet of his party Poet Laureate. As Wordsworth linked his name with the waters of Windermere, and the vale of Keswick, and the towering Helvellyn ; so Bryant s name is indissolubly associ ated with the lakes, and prairies, and mountains of America. 316 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND DANIEL S. DICKINSON THE political nomenclature of New York is a science not taught in the schools. A thorough knowledge of the various names assumed by some and assigned to others, requires an out-door education a sidewalk and street-corner tuition, a convention and mass-meeting training. Why, the names given to the "Federalists," and "Republicans," the " Clintonians," and the " Bucktails," have become obsolete, and the terms "Whig" and "Democrat" are regarded as altogether too antiquated for modern use; so we have the "Silver Greys" and the "Hunkers," the "Conscience Whigs" and the "Cot ton Whigs" the "Free Democrats," which of course implies there are Democrats that are not free, such for instance as are known by the euphonious title of "Hunkers" then we have the Barnburners, known also by the names of "Softs," "Putty- heads," "the Unterrified," and their bitterest opponents, the "Hards," "the Terrified," &c. Daniel S. Dickinson is an "Old Hunker," dyed in the wool, although not a "woolly head." He is one of the hardest of the hards, one of the most terrible of the terrified a Northern man with Southern principles a Virginian born by mistake in Connecticut, and the burden of his song, is " Oh, carry ma back to old Virginia, to old Virginia shore." If he ever prayed OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 31} he prayed (to whom ?) for the passage of the Fugitive Slave Law. If he ever labored harder at one time than another, it was when his voice and vote could help to place the compro- mise measures so called upon our statute books. No man crawled longer and crouched lower than he did, to serve the south at the expense of the north. He forgot he had constitu ents to serve, and devoted himself exclusively and unsparingly to the slave power toiling incessantly for those who despised his principles while they praised his "patriotism." The chival rous southerner, whose instincts and education and interests wedded him to the "peculiar institution" is guilty enough in the face of humanity and heaven, but his guilt whitens into innocence when contrasted with the contemptible meanness which impels a native of New England to crouch and cringe in the most "terrified" manner in the presence of his masters. Pray what will be the reward of his trimming and treachery? Will he step from the neck of the slave to a seat in. the cabinet ? Can he climb into the presidential chair on the bleed ing back of a negro ? Will the nation clap its hands to see him chase a fugitive ? Will his nomination terminate in anything but defeat? He is, undoubtedly, a man of extraordinary talent, without, however a single spark of genius. He is a debater of uncommon ability a well read statesman, an industrious wor ker, a skilful tactitian, a shrewd sharp politician, up to all the arts and tricks of wool and wire pulling and log-rolling and had he kept pace with the progress of the progressives in his party, he would have been a man the Democrats would have delighted to honor. In private life, I have the impression he is a most esti- 318 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND mable man, a faithful husband, an affectionate parent, a dutiful son, a law-abiding citizen, an obliging neighbor, and I cannot force myself to believe that he would not shelter a slave over night, under his hospitable roof that he would not shield him from the sharp teeth of devouring hounds that he would not give him a crust of bread and a cup of water, and speed him on his way, even though he travelled on the underground railroad. Yes, his heart is better than his avowed sentiments, for surely he is too dignified to steal babies, and whip women, and sepa rate families. Senator Dickinson is a native of Goshen, Con necticut, and was born September llth, 1800. When he was 16 years of age, he accompanied his father to the State of New York, where he was apprenticed to a mechanic, and acquired a knowledge of some useful branch of industry. What trade he learned, I have not the power to say. Preferring to work with his head, he relinquished the work of his hands, and studied law, and in 1823 he was admitted to the bar of the New York Supreme Court. He became distinguished in his profession, and pursued it with triumphant success, until he was elected to the State Senate in 1836. While Lieutenant-Governor and President of the Senate, he was the oracle of his party. In 1844, he was appointed to the Senate of the United States, and continued a member of that body until March 4th, 1851. So much for Senator Dickinson. His political career is nearly ended his party winding-sheet already woven. His political grave is dug and his political damnation sure, and he must bear the blame on his shoulders. His conscience, his reason., his friends, and even his party warned him of the danger thai OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 3J9 lurked like a lion in liis path, but, he heeded not the counsel of the wise, and laughed at the experience of sages, now he is "terrified ," and has become one of the hardest of the hards. His speeches are rather dry, but well put together. They are not adorned with many gems of poetry and eloquence, but are practical, sensible, logical, and philosophical speeches. If he reforms, I shall be glad to tear this sketch from my book and substitute the good things it would afford me so much pleasure to say respecting him. " Scripture Dick," as he is sometimes called, is so exhilara ted because the Adamantine Democrats have just now an opportunity to show undisguisedly their heart-hatred of Van Buren and Dix and Marcy, and men of that kidney, he has become quite facetious. His most intimate friends will be aston ished at the mother wit and cleverness he has recently exhibited on the platform at New York and Buffalo. When the staging fell at the former place at the mass meeting in the Park, he was hard enough to pass through the ordeal uninjured. He deserves some credit for his courage and consistency, for he is not afraid to avow his sentiments, and he keeps his party pledges inviolate. He does not attempt to bridge over the great gulf between the Buffalo and the Baltimore platforms with resolutions in favor of compromise measures. I am indebted to the "New York Tribune" for the following extracts from recent speeches. The editor remarks: " Scripture Dick, whom we used to consider the sorriest of low jokers, has really brightened up, and is redolent of good 320 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND things witness the following sparkles from his speech last Friday evening at Buffalo : * * * "The Democratic party now stands where it has ever stood. Let those who planted themselves upon the oppo site [Buffalo] platform, remain there until they can come back truly repentant. When the time arrives, the Democratic party will stand with open arms to receive the prodigals. But they must be content to serve in the ranks, and to prove the sin cerity of their repentance. It is not usually considered fair or consistent to put one in command as a captain, as soon as he returns from a party of desertion ; and the masses may require that these men should at least get the smell of treachery off their garments, before they adopt them as leaders. The boat men on the Susquehanna River have a rule that no person shall be allowed to steer until he has rowed for five years ; and this is a healthy rule, if applied to those politicians who have so recently been in open hostility to the party they pretend now to rejoin. Their conversion is sudden enough to excite at least a suspicion of its honesty, and should be tested before it is trusted. A veteran fisherman was once famous for catching eels, but he would sometimes catch something else. His experience taught him that all were not eels that came to the net. He would therefore turn them out upon the shore, and all that ran for the water he took for eels, while all that ran for a stone-heap he killed for snakes. I am not sure but this is a good rule to apply at the present time to ascertain who are true and who are bogus Democrats." OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 321 Here is another good thing from Daniel, better than wa often find so compactly and caustically presented in a stump speech : But these men [the Short-Boys], I regret to say it, were aot the only ones present at that [Syracuse] Convention, who should not have been there. The Governor of the State I allude to it with sorrow the Governor of the State of New York was there. Perhaps he was there merely to amuse him self by making auger-holes with a gimlet but there he was. It was the first time that ever a Governor of the State of New York was found in a Convention, lobbying and bargaining with its members, and I believe it will be the last. I know, indeed, that it will be the last time that Governor will be guilty of such an impropriety, and I do not think we could readily find another who would emulate his example. Other State officers were there also. The Controller and some others went up from the Capitol, probably to prevent their own nomination. I am very happy to say they were entirely successful. But, in spite of all these appliances, Union and Harmony were, after all, defeated. It is a singular fact, but so it is. The members of the Convention had the Governor of the State tempting them on with the spoils in front, and the Short-Boys of New York pricking them up with bowie-knives in the rear, and yet they failed to harmonize. They had everything under heaven to induce united action ; and yet, behold the result !" Just one more extract from this clever speech. It is ai candid as it is characteristic : " We have got rid of the mischievous traitors, let us keep 322 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND clear of them. It is true, they say, we are all on one platform, but when did we get there ? No longer ago than last winter when just such resolutions as the platform embodies were intro duced into the Assembly ; if a cholera patient or a hand gre nade had been placed in their midst, there could not have been a more effectual scattering of these very men. The very speaker had to fly the house like a dog with a tin kettle fas tened behind him. It was only last winter that one of their body got up and denounced this very platform, as embraced in the President s Inaugural, as damnable. Then, gentlemen, is it to be wondered at, considering the formidable head they presented then, and the tapering tail they present now, if you and I, and all of us refuse to go near them ? No ; I prefer imitating the action of the man, who, while attending a race, was kicked by a woolly horse which had been hitched to a post too near the path. He was much hurt, and paced the walk in fury, crying out, show me the man that hitched the woolly horse to the post. When the bystanders sympathized with him, * Show me the man that hitched the woolly horse tharj was all his reply. Presently the owner of the horse, a .stout-built man, approached. My friend, he began, * I am sorry. I want none of your sorrow, sir, replied the man ; show me the man that hitched the woolly horse thar! 1 1 Well, said the owner, if you want to know so badly, / did ; and what are you going to do about it ? Well, said thu injured individual, I swear I ll never go near that woolly horse again ! And, my friends, I ll never go near that woolly horse again. I have no faith in it. It will kick at any moment." OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 323 GENERAL WINFIELD SCOTT. GENERAL WINFIELD SCOTT is a giant in stature, six feet six in his stockings, and of perfect proportions. In regimentals, and on horseback, he is the most magnificent soldier in Ame rica. Nicholas of Russia, is the only man in Europe known to fame who at all approximates to such an unusual develop ment of form. In any age, in any country, he would have been a chosen chieftain. The Red men of the forest would have been proud of such a chief. The Romans would have followed him during a lifetime and deified him after death. No wonder Uncle Sam chose his tall, broad-shouldered nephew to be his prize-fighter. His very presence scared the Mexicans as Goliath of Gath frightened the Hebrews. Should there be a World s Fair for the display of physically great men of per fect mould, the United States would win the first premium, and Scott would wear the medal. He is a soldier a scientific soldier, a brave soldier, a magnanimous soldier, a hero whose name belongs to history, whose fame is perpetual. The American people have expected and exacted too much of this scarred and battered veteran. No man excels in every thing. One great thing is as much as we should look for from any one man. Divest General Scott of his regimentals, and place him on the rostrum, and we have a hundred white-livered one-horse- 324 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND power attorneys who can excel him in debate, and they would shine, while he would stammer and become a laughing-stock. Take away his sword, ask him to write, and he will wield the pen so awkwardly, that little mousing editors will denounce him, and cry " blockhead," and a great many other delectable names which may be found in the black-letter literature of the day. That General Scott is intellectually a great man, nobody pretends to say, who is at all qualified to judge. He is great in the camp, he would be good for nothing in Congress. He is a brave soldier, but a bungling statesman. He is a capital swordsman, but a wretched speaker. He can fight well, but he cannot write so well as some of the private soldiers under his command. When he attempts to address an audience, his tongue hangs fire at first, and when it does go off, it goes off "half cocked," and never hits the mark. It is well for him he was not elected President of the United States, for a free people do not desire to be commanded, and it is more than probable, in the event of his election he would have been either the tool of his cabinet, or a tyrant over the country. In either case he would have disappointed his friends and lost the green laurels and the golden honors he has won. He would have been always eating a hasty and indigestible " plate of soup," with a most tormenting " fire in his rear." In private life he is a most exemplary man, abjuring the uso of wine, consequently, he will never fall under the influence of grape-shot. His history is so familiar to every schoolboy, ] will not repeat the facts in this sketch. His character may be summed up in a few words. He is OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 325 vain and loves military display, " fuss and feathers " delight him exceedingly. He is proud, and cannot brook opposition without an explosion of bad temper. He is sensitive, and exacts much attention from his friends. He is brave, and woe betide his enemies. When he speaks from the black lips of cannon, and cannon-balls are the iron words he utters, he makes an impression, and the nations of the earth hear his eloquence. When bayonets are arguments, he is pretty sure to make his opponents yield to the force of his pointed reasoning. He is fond of fame, and the following lines are not inappropriate, although when I wrote them I had another person in view. Clarissa. We all must die, for Death will serve his writ, And we must pay down life, when Nature s debt Is due. When sickness, like a notary, comes To warn us that the days of grace are few We need not fear, if our accounts are right, And we re stockholders in the bank of heaven. William. I m the ten millionth fraction of the race A grain of sand upon the sea-washed shore, An insect fluttering in the light of day, An item lost in the vast aggregate, And when I drop into the grave, the world Will miss me, as the forest does a leaf, Plucked by the wind and blown away from sight ; Then why this inextinguishable thirst for fame ? Fame is a sea that will not seek the grain Of sand the sea bird swallowed with its meal. Fame is a sun, that will not leave its sphere, To find the gnat that sported in its beams. Fame will not seek me in my sodded home, When the red sea of life has ceased to dash Against this narrow shore of flesh and bones ; And when the sun of life, unclouded now, Sinks out of sight behind the churchyard mound. 326 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Clarissa. Ambitious man ! if fickle fame should press A golden trumpet to her lips of air, And sound thy name throughout the wondering world, Until it filled the earth as yonder moon Fills all the space twixt earth and heaven with light, And mothers called their children by thy name, And sculptors in Carara carved thy bust, While poets praised thee in immortal verse And nations named their capitols for thee, Until thy broad-mouthed appetite was gorged And thou wert covered o er with stars of fame, As over-arching skies are paved with light. Would fell disease respect thy laurelled brow ? Could scowling death be bribed to spare thy life ? And after death, would the unsparing hand Of time be slow to turn thy form to dust ? Couldst thou step from thy monument to heaven ? Would bannered angels with their golden harps, Echo the brazen throated fame of earth, And shake with shouts the battlements of bliss, And march in triumph through the golden streets ? William. The ocean swallows streams, then puts its Hpa Of sand against the river s mouth for more Clasping the green banks in its ardent arms, Until at last, the jealous moon comes forth From her white chambers in the lofty sky, And with her wand drives back the wanton waves. Fame is the restless ocean in my breast, To which all other passions flow like streams. Clarissa. Good resolutions stereotyped in deeds, Pure hearts whose throbs are felt in what we say Souls shining with the light that comes from God, And lives unselfish and unstained by vice, Should be our aim, and not the praise of men. The loud hosannas of to-day, may be Exchanged for scorn, and cross, and crown of thorns Before the next moon fills her horn with light. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 321 WILLIAM R. STACY. WILLIAM R. STACY is a plain, business man, whose bands, and heart, and soul, are earnestly engaged in the total abstinence reform. In season and out of season, he is the same untiring, uncompromising and unflinching champion of the cause. In Societies, in Sections, in Divisions, in Tents, and in Temples, he is known as an efficient worker. Fair- weather friends and summer-fly advocates of abstinence doctrines are constantly rebuked by his unyielding adhe rence to the letter and the spirit of the pledge. Temperance thermometers, whose mercury is sure to rise and fall, according to the state of the atmosphere, wonder with open mouths and open eyes, and leathern ears and leaden brains, why Mr. Stacy denies himself the lazy ease which they mis name enjoyment. Politicians, who can accommodate them selves to every sect in religion, to every party in politics, to every shade of society, and, like chameleons, assume the color of the community in which they move, are astonished that a man of his tact and influence, and persevering energy, does not attempt to reap laurels and gain gold in the field of poli tical action. Those who need not envy the donkey its redun dancy of ear, are surprised that such a sensible man should engage in such " small business." 328 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Captain Stacy is President of the Parent Washingtoniaii Temperance Society, in this city an institution which has been in successful operation for twelve years, during which time hundreds and thousands have been added to its membership. This good Samaritan society not only secures names to the pledge, but feeds the hungry, clothes the destitute, visits the sick. It has been instrumental in healing hearts that were broken, and restoring to society men who had degraded them selves by the use of strong drinks. Through summer and winter, spring and autumn, fair weather and foul weather, Mr. Stacy has attended the meetings of this society. His friends seem to appreciate his worth by heaping honors upon him. The last two years, he was Most Worthy Asso ciate of the National Division. He is now Most Worthy Templar of the National Temple. These distinctions have fallen upon a worthy man. There is no poetry, no tinselry about his speeches. His thoughts are clad in a thin covering of scanty words. He works noiselessly and out of sight, but very effectually. Is there a cross to carry, his shoulders are chosen to bear the burden. Is there money to raise, his financiering skill is called into exercise. Is there a mammoth meeting to be held, he is expected to make the necessary preparations. Mr. Stacy is in the prime of life, a man of common stature, has dark hair, large light eyes, an honest face, a good develop ment of benevolence, and firmness enough to render him obstinate when opposed providing ho has reason to believe he is on the right side of the question Few men are so well OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 329 acquainted with the "workings" of the National Temple as he ; few men have more influence in the great national tem perance movement than he. It is evident that he accepts office for the purpose of extending the sphere of his usefulness, and not for the gratification of his personal vanity. He never occupies much time in his public addresses does not stop to dissect his dictionary for choice language, but speaks out in manly style the thoughts that are uppermost in his mind. He is not a classical scholar, and never tries to pass for more than he is worth, by awkward attempts at rounding periods and polishing sentences. His striking cha racteristics are generosity, energy perseverance, courage and aommon sense. 330 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND GERRIT SMITH. ON my return from the West, I called to see that generous philanthropist, eminent orator, and impracticable radical, Ger- rit Smith. I found him in his office, pen in hand at his wri ting-desk. When he read my note of introduction, he remarked that he was familiar with my name, and supposed I was a much older man. He politely invited me to avail myself of his hospitality. I did so, and had an opportunity of seeing him at home. Mr. Smith lives in a small white house, about two miles distant from the village of Peterboro . It is plainly and spa ringly furnished. There are no luxurious sofas upon which to lounge, no costly carpets upon which to tread, no costly mirrors at which to gaze. Everything about his residence partakes of the useful rather than the ornamental. I found him an accessible, sociable, pleasant man, thoroughly familiar with the history of the reformers and the reformatory move ments of the present day. It is well known that this distinguished man stands at the head of the most radical class of reformers. Indeed he stands out so far in front of his age, that slow-moving conservatives cannot appreciate the man nor his motives. He denounces rum-patronizing and pro-slavery churches consequently all OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 33} the anathema maranathas of unsympathizing and unsanctified professors of religion are hurled at his head, and he is con demned as an infidel, whereas he evidently is an humble and devoted follower of Christ. " By their fruits ye shall know them." He asks a blessing at his table. Night and morning he lays the sacrifice of a broken and contrite heart on the altar of family devotion. Every day he carefully studies the Scriptures ; and manifests his love to God whom he has not seen, by his love toward his brother-man whom he has seen. Few men have done more than Mr. Smith to assist the poor, to clothe the naked, to feed the hungry, reform the drunkard and liberate the bondman. The hotels owned by him in dif ferent towns and cities in this country, are invariably rented for half the sum liquor-landlords would pay for the same pre mises. In this way, he has cheerfully sacrificed thousands of dollars to promote the temperance cause. I have not men tioned his munificent donations and eloquent lectures directed to the same object. This model man gave three thousand farms to the same number of black persons, and now he offers a thousand farms and ten thousand dollars to a thousand white persons in the State of New York. Mr. Smith s father was in partnership with John Jacob Astor, at one period of his life. When he died, he bequeathed to the subject of this sketch three quarters of a million acres of land. In point of intellect, Mr. Smith ranks with such men as Clay and Benton. His mind is comprehensive and well cultivated. His temperament volcanic, but usually controlled by an acute judgment. As an orator he has but few superiors. His man- 332 CRATON SKETCHES, AND ner is deliberate and dignified ; his matter choice and cla* sical ; his personal appearance noble and attractive. He is about six feet tall, and of perfect proportions ; forehead high and broad; eyes large, dark, and expressive; hair brown, and cropped close to his head. At the time I saw him he wore a suit of bottle-green, and his broad shirt-collar lay down like a large snow-flake over a black neckerchief. He never deco rates his person with the tinselry and jewelry of fashion. He eats plain food, sleeps on a hard bed, bathes every day, drinks nothing but cold water, walks from four to ten miles a day, writes from fifty to two hundred letters per week, furnishes long and labored communications for the press, and speaks frequently at public meetings. It is not often we find a man with such immense wealth at his command, sympathizing as he does with his less fortunate fellow men. He believes that man is as much entitled to the earth as he is to air and water, and desires to see every man own a house and lot ; is opposed to tariffs, and advocates with great zeal and eloquence the doctrine of free trade ; believes there is " a good time coming," when the clarion of war shall cease, and the olive-trees shall grow above mouldering bones on battlefields ; when degrading poverty shall hide its dimin ished head, and smiling competence shall find all men sitting under their own vines and fig-trees, none daring to molest or make them afraid ; when slavery shall no longer bind on heavy burdens ; when intemperance shall be among the things that were, and abstinence principles shall universally prevail. With such views, it may not be expected that he always travels on a OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 333 smooth road and sleeps on a bed of roses. He stirs up the old hornet-nests of hunkerism, and awakens the slumbering dog kennels af conservatism; so that he frequently hears the buzz ing of insects and the baying of hounds. Incorrigible conservatives, who cling to grey old customs and straight roads, who hate an uneven pathway, although it may be the safest and the nearest, remind one of the rats of Norway, that travel in millions from the hills toward the ocean.* They turn neither to the right nor the left, but gnaw their way through barns and corn-fields, swimming or sail ing over rivers, climbing walls and mountains, sweeping through crowded thoroughfares, tumbling from the roofs of houses. On, on, rolls the wave of rats, leaving behind nothing but dead carcases and a foul atmosphere. Man is a progressive animal, and the more conservative he is, the nearer he approximates to the uriintellectual brute, and the further he recedes from estab lished laws. God made man upright, and furnished him with ft capital of bones and brains with which to commence life. Experience, observation, and reflection taught him that winter would freeze him, summer scorch him, fire burn him, water drown him, the wild beast devour him, and the avalanche crush him. He robed himself in garments to protect him from the cold of the North and the heat of the South. He built a house for his comfort and protection. He domesticated the dog, the cow, and the horse, for his own accommodation. He dried venison and fish, sowed seed and reaped harvests, and continued his progressive movements until the rude hut became * Carlyle. 334 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND a stately palace, the bark canoe a mighty ship, witl. sails anc masts, the clumsy cart, a city on wheels, drawn by steam-steedi over iron roads. Steam is our horse, lightning our herald, water our servant, and the sun our portrait-painter. Reform tunnels our mountains, levels the hills, lifts up the valleys, and flings its floating bridges of steel and steam and flame and smoke over the oceans. Our railroads are iron bands binding us iu the bonds of universal brotherhood, Oui electric wires are so many nerves of sensation, reaching from Maine to Minnesota. Mr. Smith is one of the few who keep pace with the march of improvement, and he heartily employs his purse, pen and tongue in behalf of free trade, free soil, free types, free lips, and free men. He believes the Constitution is an " anti-slavery document;" so do the free-soil abolitionists, yet is not a "free- soiler." He believes the church is pro-slavery, and on that question agrees with the Garrisonians, but he does not belong to that party. He is at the head of the " Liberty party," aE J his creed embraces every degree of reform, from the use ( T cold water as a beverage and in the bath, to the emancipatio . of three millions of men. GERRIT SMITH S SPEECH AT THE ANTI-SLAVERY CONVENTION, PETERBORO , N. Y., OCTOBER, 1835. " MR. PRESIDENT. Allow me to commence a few remarka by stating the history of this resolution. On returning home from Utica last night, my mind was so much excited with the OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 335 horrid scenes of the day, and the frightful encroachments made on the right of free discussion, that I could not sleep, and at 3 o clock I left my bed, and drafted the resolution as just read, and also noted down a few heads of thought which I may refer to or not as I proceed. " It is known to all here that I am not a member of the anti-slavery society nor am I prepared to become a member. I rise under the courtesy of the vote by which I have been kindly invited to sit with you and take part in your delibera tions. At the same time I am admonished by passing events, that it will soon be necessary for every friend of human rights or of the slave, and every man who is not himself a slave, or willing to be one, to act in concert with those over whose heads the war is apparently to be carried on against the right of free discussion, and probably the day is not distant, when, with all my objections, I shall become a member of your society. "That I have had objections to the course of the Anti-slavery Society is well known. What those objections were I need not state here. They are spread out before the public, and it would be unreasonable to bring them forward here. " This much, however, I will say now. Your great principles are rny great principles. I was born with them. I am not conscious that I ever in my life opposed, for an hour, the great and glorious doctrine of immediate emancipation. The odious doctrines that you hold, I hold also. All the sentiments that occasion you to be called amalgamators and insurrectionists, make the supporters of slavery call me an amalgamator and an insurrectionist. I love to look at the Anti-slaverj 836 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Society, and at myself, and to say, una spes, unaque ambobus erit?* " When I see your reputation, and property, and lives in peril, I love to bring my reputation, and property, and life into the same peril. Let me read the resolution. " Resolved. That the right of free discussion given to us by our God, and asserted and guarded by the laws of oui country, is a right so vital to man s freedom, and dignity, and usefulness, that we can never be guilty of its surrender, without consenting to exchange that freedom for slavery, and that dignity and usefulness for debasement and worthlessness. " I love our free and happy government. But not because it confers any new rights upon us. Our rights spring from a nobler source than human constitutions and governments from the favor of Almighty God. Constitutions and laws are modes of human device for asserting and defining and carrying out the great natural and inherent rights of man, which belong to him as a rational creature of God. " We do not learn our rights in the book of Constitution. We learn them from the Book of Books, which is the great charter of human rights. Rights belong to human nature. Constitutions at the most do but recognise and preserve what never was theirs to give. The reason why I love a republi can form of government is, not that this form of government clothes us with rights withheld by other forms, but that it makes fewer encroachments on the rights which God gave * One hope and one salvation shall be to us both. f OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 337 us, fewer restrictions upon the divinely appointed scope of man s agency. * ***** " I must say one word under the head I have marked in my notes of Utica Mobs. Not that I design to dwell on the transactions of yesterday themselves. But a topic which they suggest is important enough to be noticed. This right of free discussion, sir, there is one class of men who ought to be particularly tenacious of, I mean poor men. These constitute the most numerous class in every country, and therefore to the true philanthropist they are of the greatest value. The worldling graduates his interest in men according to their wealth, or rank, or external show. But the eye of the Christian philanthropist regards all with equal interest, because all souls are equal. When the rich are divested of their rights, they have still their riches and honors to rest on, for dignity and for defence. But when the poor man is divested of his right to speak, he is divested of all his rights. Take from him that in which, almost alone, he stands on equal ground with his rich neighbor, the freedom of speech, and, sir, the man of poverty will soon find himself wholly at the mercy of the man of wealth. The poor men in Utica whom we saw led on by men of wealth to a violent assault against free discussion, will yet see the suicidal character of their proceedings. " The rights which they have attacked in your persons, are their own dearest rights, without which they cannot help being trampled into the dust, for wealth and title have always 15 338 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND of old trampled into the dust those who have not this right to speak. " We are even now threatened with legislative restrictions on this right. Let us tell our legislators in advance that we cannot bear it. The man who attempts to interpose such restrictions does a grievous wrong to God and man, which we cannot bear. Submit to this, and we are no longer what God made us to be men. Laws to gag men s mouths, to seal up their lips, to freeze up the warm gushings of the heart, are laws which the free spirit cannot brook. They are laws contrary alike to the nature of man and the commands of God, laws destructive of human happiness and the divine constitution, and before God and man they are NULL and VOID. They defeat the very purposes for which God made man, and throw him mindless, helpless, and worthless, at the feet of the oppressor. " And for what purpose are we called to throw down our pens and seal up our lips, and sacrifice our influence over our fellow-men, by the use of free discussion ? If it was for an object of benevolence, that we were called to renounce that freedom of speech with which God made us, there would be some color of fitness in the demand. But such a sacrifice, the cause of truth and mercy never calls us to make. " The cause requires the exertion, not the suppression, of our noblest powers. " But here we are called on to degrade and unman our selves, and to withhold from our fallen men that influence OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 339 which we ought to exercise for their good. And for what ? I will tell you for what. " That the oppressed may lie more passive at the feet of the oppressor ; that one sixth of our American people may never know their rights; that two-and-a-half millions of our own countrymen, crushed in the cruel folds of slavery, may remain in all their misery and despair, without pity and without hope. " For such a purpose, so wicked, so inexpressibly mean, the southern slave-holder calls on us to lie down, like whipped and trembling spaniels, at his feet. " Our reply is this ; our republican spirits cannot submit to such conditions. God did not make us, Jesus did not redeem us, for such vile and sinful uses. ****** " Whom shall we muster on our side in this great battle between liberty and slavery. .Not the many. The many never will muster in such a cause, until they first see unequi vocal signs of its triumph. " We don t want the many, but the true-hearted, who are not skilled in the weapons of carnal warfare. We don t want the politicians, who, to secure the votes of the south, care not if slavery is perpetual. We don t want the merchant, who, to secure the custom of the south, is willing to applaud slavery, and leave his countrymen, and their children, and their children s children, to the tender mercies of slavery for ever. 340 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND "We want only one class of men for this warfare. Be that class ever so small, we want only those who will stand on the rock of Christian principle. We want men who can defend the right of free discussion on the ground that God gave it. " We want men who will act with unyielding honesty and firmness. " We have room for all such, but no room for the time serving and selfish. We have room as well for the aged and decrepid warrior as for the vigorous and the young. "The hands that are now trembling with the weight of years, are the best, hands in the world to grasp the shield of faith. These gray-haired servants of God best know how to move the hands that move the world. " We want them and such as them ; men who are acquainted with God, and used to God s work, and these we shall have. And his blessing we shall have if we are humble, and we cannot fail. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 341 EDWARD BEECHER. Oh, what is man, Great Maker of mankind ! That Thou to him so great respect dost bear That Thou adorn st him with so bright a mind, Makest him a king, and e en an angel s peer ! SIR JOHN DA VIES. EDWARD BEECHER is a close thinker, a cogent reasoner, an impassioned speaker. His sermons are not elegant essays, got up for the entertainment of his hearers. They are not blank verse wire-drawn into very blank prose : not pearls and diamonds and precious stones, all stolen except the string that ties them together. They are true-blue, orthodox sermons, full of Beecher, truth, spirit, and scripture. They are living, breathing, talking sermons famous for great thoughts and simple words. Mr. Beecher is a fluent and forcible speaker, and makes use of the simplest (not always the purest) Saxon in his discourses. In his happiest mood his voice is often raised to a high pitch, and he soars with untiring wing higher, and higher still, and still higher, until his head is among the stars, and his face like the countenance of Moses on the mountain reflects the radiance of inspiration. He not unfrequently produces a thrilling effect by reiterated strokes, 8^2 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND and by presenting epithet after epithet, figure after figure, fact after fact, argument after argument, appeal after appeal, which flow on like the waves of the sea, exciting the alarm of the unconverted, who have spread their sail upon the waters of life, without provisions or pilot, and eliciting the admiration of those who have, and those who hope they have, fair prospects for reaching the haven of rest. Mr. Beecher has studied mental philosophy, and is well versed in theology ; has considerable knowledge of the ways of the world, for, unlike many of his cloth, he does not deem it a duty to shut himself up in his study continually, for fear of rendering himself " too common " to excite the wonder of the people on the Sabbath. There are some clergymen who keep themselves as wild beasts are kept in a menagerie; you cannot see them without a ticket, and then you must keep at a respectable distance. Why, it is more difficult to obtain an interview with some ministers, than it is to have a tete-a-tete with the Pope of Rome ! If Paul, with his hands hardened at -tent-making, or Peter, fresh from his fishing tackle, were to solicit an opportunity to preach in their pulpits, they would give Peter and Paul such a response as the Pharisees of old gave them. Dr. Beecher is not one of that class of spiritual teachers. You will see him in the streets, and at the exchange, in the reading-rooms, in the police court, at the public meetings in Faneuil Hall and Tre- mont Temple. He is a sociable, accessible, generous man, and capital company where he is sufficiently acquainted to " unbend the monkish brow." It is because he mingles with OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 343 the people that he is in advance of many of his clerical brethren. But Edward Beecher, like the rest of us poor mortals, has faults. He often seems to attempt to work up his feelings to a pitch of intense excitement. Under such circumstances there will be noise without eloquence, extreme gesture with out extreme unction. In that way he exchanges the sub lime for the sledge-hammer style. He has a good share of moral courage. Like his brother, the " Thunderer" in Brook lyn, he assails with tongue and pen, from the pulpit and the press, the tergiversation, the coat-turning, the mouse-ing, the meanness of public men, who, for laurels or lucre, basely betray their country with a kiss. The Brooklyn Beecher is almost constantly throwing shot and shell into the camp and court of the enemy. Some poor fool in his congregation became offended with him, the other day, because he publicly rebuked the recreancy of a promi nent politician who recently betrayed his country, and put a crown of thorns on the bleeding brow of humanity. This nervous simpleton put down on paper the unpalatable senti ments he could not swallow, and had them published ; and Sir Oracle, the editor, in all the pomp of pigmy grandeur, undertook to lecture H. W. Beecher on the duties of preach ers ! His labors were lost ; for it does not run in the blood of the Beechers to be frightened at pop-guns in the arms of grasshoppers. Dr. Lyman Beecher, speaking of his two dis tinguished sons, said, Edward fires forty-pounders, and woe 344 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND betide tlie man that lie hits. Henry fires grape-shot, and kills the most men. Edward Beecher is in the zenith of his nifmhood. He has used his brains more than he has his teeth, consequently his head looks older than his face. His hair is now turning grey ; his forehead is broad and high, and indicates extraordi nary intellectual power ; his eyes are large and expressive, and burn like meteors, when he hides himself behind the cross, and pleads earnestly for the welfare of men and the glory of God. He is one of the editors of the Congregation- alist, a religious journal of great merit. He is also pastor of the church in Salem street. At one period of his life, he was President of one of the Western colleges. He is a man of unimpeachable purity, has a highly cultivated and strong mind, and is esteemed and honored in the walks of private and public life. Go and hear him, and he will prove, beyond doubt, that whatever is lovely in innocence, pure in virtue, good in morality, thrilling in eloquence, sublime in poetry, 01 holy in truth, may be found in the Bible. J C Buttre OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 345 THOMAS HART BEATON THOMAS HART BENTOIS is a ripe scholar, a ready debater a brave soldier, and the ablest statesman now living in America. He was born in North Carolina, in 1783, and edu cated at Chapel Hill College, studied law in William and Mary s College. In 1810, entered the U. S. Army, afterwards practised law in Nashville, Tennessee. Soon afterwards, moved to Missouri, where he edited a newspaper. In 1820, was elected to the U. S. Senate, and remained in that body until 1851. In the Senate he at once became distinguished for his surpassing talents. He was one of the chief sup porters of the administrations of General Jackson and Martin Van Buren. He is now a member of Congress, having defeated the entire army of demagogues that opposed him kicking down their platforms, breaking up their caucuses, exposing their wire-pulling, and mocking at their nominations. This apostle of freedom for the south and west, has an iron will, indomitable resolution, and perseverance that " never sur renders." He is a short stout person, with a magnificent head ; grey eyes Roman nose, and a face beaming with intellect. As a speaker, he is more argumentative than eloquent ; more phi losophical than poetical. Webster, Calhoun, Clay, Benton, 15* 346 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND and Cass were to the U. S. Senate what the five senses are tc the human system. " Old Bullion " is a hero of Herculean strength, who has turned the river of reform through the Augean stable of party politics in the State he represents. WILLIAM L. MARCY. WILLIAM L. MARCY was born in Sturbridge, Worcester County, Massachusetts, December 12, 1786. After graduat ing with honor at Brown University, he took up his residence in the city of Troy, in the State of New York, where he stu died and practised law. He rendered efficient service during most of the war of 1812. In 1816, he was appointed recor der of the city of Troy, but owing to his political relation ship with Mr. Van Buren, and his opposition to Gov. Clinton, he was deposed from office two years afterwards. In 1821, he became adjutant-general of the State, and in 1823, he was elected Controller, when -he removed to the capital of the Empire State, and became a member of the Albany Regency. In 1829, he was appointed one of the associate justices of the Supreme Court, but resigned that office in 1831, when he was elected to the United States Senate, where he remained two years, during which time he was elected governor of the State of New York. He was twice re-elected to that post of honor. During Mr. Folk s administration he accepted the place of Secretary of War, the arduous duties of which he OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 34*} discharged with credit to himself and honor to his country He is now Secretary of State, and is, far and away, the ablest man in the Cabinet. His State paper on the Koszta affair is one of the most profound arguments ever presented to the American people. It created a wonderful sensation in Europe, but no crowned head could find a man competent to meet his unanswerable logic. President Pierce could not have found another man within the radius of his party so perfectly qual* fied to be " prime minister " of the United States. ALFRED BUM. I HAVE just returned from the New Music Hall, where I heard a repetition of the reminiscences of a stage manager, from the lips of Mr. Alfred Bunn. Mr. Bunn is a portly man with a dull face, large round head, bald on the crown and thinly covered with grey hair on the sides. He looks, speaks, and acts like a gentleman John Bull. He must be nearly sixty years of age, but he is erect and elastic, as most men are in the prime of life. He dresses in simple black, wears a huge collar that threatens to saw his ears off, while the points of it play peak-a-boo around his ample chin. A lady at my side declared that his feet were handsome. The gentleman is a bun who has been more than half baked but those who go to hear him will be done 348 CRAYON SKETCHES, brown, even though they be dough. Mr. Alfred Buuu liai been over estimated by the American press. It is all ibl-de- rol to prate about such a man lecturing o the genius of Shakspeare. He has not the genius to appreciate the writings of the immortal bard. Twice have I listened atten tively and impartially to his best efforts in his happiest moods, and I am not unkind nor unjust, when I pronounce both efforts utter failures. Not one new sentiment did he offer. There was not a gleam of originality in his lectures. What he did present, has been presented a thousand times before, and a thousand times better. Then his voice is thick and hazy, so that you cannot understand much that he says. While you look at him you seem to be listening to a voice from one of the ante-chambers, and when he quotes Shakspeare, he spoils the passage by the theatrical and forced gestures which accompany his quotations. He abounds in puns, quips, quirks, jokes, bon mots, and anecdotes ; and if you do not laugh at them, you certainly must laugh to see him laugh at them himself besides, he has been the manager of the very theatre where Garrick and Sheridan amused an empire, and he has been personally acquainted with Lamb, and Smith, and Matthews, and has had large experience in London Life. I have no doubt he is an agreeable companion, lighting up the social circle with the sunshine of his goodnature. As the manager of a play house, I venture the remark, that he was judicious, liberal, and honorable. Mr. Bunn said that one of the admirers of the genius of Shakspeare, wrote in a legible hand over a OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 34ft glass case containing the works of the great Poet, the follow ing notice. To Authors, " Thou shalt not steal." To Critics and Commentators, "Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor." To Actors, " Thou shalt do no mur der." Since the foregoing was written, this " hot cross bun " has published a volume, in which he has caricatured some and flattered others. A cotemporary speaking of Bunn s sketch of Moses Kimball, says : "We apprehend that should Mr. Bunn again visit the Little Yankee Theatre, he will be served worse than he was by Macready, at Drury Lane, a few years ago. Smith, the box-office feller, doubtless would assist the lusty looking fellow, Kimball in a boot demonstration. " Mr. Bunn s book is a mere record of hotel-bills, vain glorious accounts of his lectures, flippant anecdotes, and use less descriptions. What is new in it is not true, and what is true is not new. As we last week hinted, the story of his intercourse with Mr. Kimball, of the Museum, is a fabrication from beginning to end ; the best of it is, he puts the genuine cockney dialect into Kimball s mouth." Here is the sketch : " Take a seat, said he ; I m d d if I ain t glad to see yer ; heard a deal on yer ; read all yer works, and so I ll tell yer how I ve got along. " When I observed that I had but a few minutes to stay, he replied " D a that ; it won t take yer long. I was formerly a 350 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND merchant, and made bad affairs on it ; but seein a way o gettin on agin I started fresh ; first of all at Gleason s, nov the pictur gallery ; saw a better chance, and got a feller to build the Museum my own idea. Barnum copied after me. I could ttll yer many things, how I hit, and how I missed ; but the first great "go" was the "Temperance Reform" piece ; I made a sort of " Tom and Jerry " affair on it ; lug ged into the piece a young fellow, a quiet, modest person at starting, but who turned out a h 11 of a drunkard ; and then, I had a sort of Logic man to go about with un, just to try and keep un in order, and a Yankee chap to make some fun. We put the thing together among ourselves; and I made Smith my manager he s a capital feller, though he can t act ; but anything 11 so I made Smith play the hero. " In order to create a proper feeling among the sober classes, I loaned about fifteen black coats, bought as many white chokers, and dressed up fifteen fellers in em, to look like parsons, and put em in the most conspicuous part of the house ; and thus we managed to hook in all the clergy and Christian soft-mouths. The piece drew all h 1 ; we played it sometimes four times a day on Christmas Day we played it six times, beginning at nine in the morning. " No one who knows Mr. Kimball will believe this, nor what follows. We omit the profanity which he puts into the manager s mouth : " Here I rose to take my leave. Wait a minute I ll tell yer what I did wi yer ! That * Bohemian Gal o yourn didn t we go ahead wi her ? I kept in all the situations, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 351 sent the music to smash, threw in a couple of Dromios for my low comedians, and away we went like fun ! " Wfc literally shrieked with laughter when he added : Ay and I shall do the same with your Enchantress, if I can pick up a couple of funny chaps. " I naturally asked him how much he paid per annum for his literature, when he answered : About twelve and a half cents every packet that arrives. I get all the last pieces from England the cheap editions as Lacy publishes ; and as soon as they come to hand, I and Smith, and the box-office feller, set to work, and lick a bad piece into good shape in no time ! " PETER CARTWRI6HT. THE great Western preacher has arrived and is now searching the well-thumbed Bible for his text. Quite a number of distinguished divines are present. The preacher looks like a backwoodsman, whose face has been bronzed at the plough. His black hair, straggling seven ways for Sunday, is slightly tinged with the frost of age. A strip of black silk is twisted around his neck, and a shirt col lar, scrupulously clean, is turned down over it. He is of ordi nary size, dresses plainly, and looks like a man perfectly free from affectation. In a faltering voice he reads a hymn. The choir wed the words to sweet and solemn music, a fervent prayer goes up on the wings of faith another hymn is read 352 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND and sung the 12th verse of the llth chapter of Matthew it selected for his text. Now the old pioneer preacher, who has waded swaraps, forded rivers, threaded forest, travelled with Indians, fought with bears and wolves, preached in the woods and slept in the field or on the prairie at night, is standing before us. Look at him, ye gentlemen with white neckcloths and black coats, who ride in carriages over smooth roads to supply churches with cushioned pews and soft benches to kneel on. How would you like to labor for nothing among wild beasts, and board yourselves, in a climate where the ague shakes the settlers over the grave two-thirds of the year? Would you exchange your fat livings, and fine palaces, and unread libraries for black bread and dry venison, a log hut and the society of bears and blue-racers? God bless the brave, wise, and good men to whom we are so much indebted for the blessings we enjoy. He says he would make an apology if he thought it would enable him to preach better, for he is afflicted with a severe cold. " Some folks," said he, " say I am fifty years behind the age. God knows," he continued, " I am willing to be a thousand behind such an age. Religion is always of age, and can talk and run without stilts or silver slippers." He concluded an able and interesting discourse, which elicited undivided attention, with the following fact. " During a splendid revival of religion at the west, a young preacher, manufactured in one of your theological shops out here, came to lend a helping hand. I knew he could not handle Methodists tools without cutting his fingers, but he was very OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 353 officious. Well, we had a gale, a Pentecostal gale, and sinners, fell without looking for a soft place, and Christians fought the devil on their knees. Well, this little man would tell those who were groaning under conviction, to be composed. I stood this as long as I could, and finally sent him to speak with a great, stout, athletic man who was bellowing like a bull in a net, while I tried to undo the mischief he had done to others. He told this powerful man to be composed, but I told him to pray like thunder just at that instant, the grace of God shone in upon his soul and he was so delirious with delight, he seized the little man in his hands and holding him up, bounded like a buck through the congregation." It is impossible for the pen to do justice to this fact. The speaker moved us all to tears and smiles at the same moment while he said what few men should venture to say. The subject of this sketch once put up at the Irving House, N. Y., (if I am correctly informed) and when he wished to retire at night, one of the waiters lighted him to a room near the roof of that mountain of marble and mortar. " How shall I find the way back ?" inquired the preacher. " Oh just ring the bell and we will show you," said the waiter. By the time the waiter reached the bar-room, tingle, tingle went the bell, the waiter climbed five or six flights of stairs and asked what was wanted. "Show me the way down," said Mr. Cartwright. The waiter did so. " Now show me the way up again ;" he did so. 354 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND but he had scarcely reached the reception room when the bell rang again. This time the landlord went up stairs to see what the matter was. " I want a broad-axe," said the preacher. " What do you want with a broad-axe ?" inquired tho astonished landlord. " I want to blaze my way down stairs," was the cool reply. The landlord took the hint and gave the frontier preacher a room on the first floor. A foul-mouthed infidel once attacked him on board of a boat on the Western waters. Mr. Cartwright submitted quietly to his profanity, vulgarity and obscenity for a long time. Finally, he approached the gaseous sceptic with a stern face, and with a voice of a stentor said, " if you do not take back what you have said, I will baptize you in this river in the name of your father the devil." The infidel at once apologized and saved himself a duck ing. The other day some member of the Conference suggested that some act should be done out of courtesy. This announcement brought the old gentleman to his feet and he said, " I do not know what you gentlemen at the East think of courtesy, but we out West, who were born in a cane-brake cradled in a gum-tree and who graduated in a thunder storm, don t think much of modern etiquette." OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 35* ANSON BURLINGAME. HON. ANSON BURLINGAME was born in 1822. When a mere child he was sent to the Far West, where he remained many years. He was educated at the Branch University of Michigan, and studied law at Cambridge. It was his intention to return to the broad, free West, but being susceptible of the tender passion, he was detained by a beautiful, accomplished and wealthy lady, the daughter of Hon. Isaac Livermore, Cambridge, to whom we are indebted for such a rare acqui sition to New England society. Mr. Burlingame is probably the truest representative we have cf the " Young America" being enterprising, eloquent, pro gressive, persevering, industrious, and independent. A speech he made in Faneuil Hall, when he was stumping the district for Congress, abounds in thrilling bursts of eloquent patriotism, the reading of which without the kindling soul of the speaker, even moves the blood like the blast of a trumpet. In alluding to the rendition of Sims, I can only quote a sen*- tence or two; he remarks: "It does not pay, I submit, to put our fellow citizens under practical martial law, to beat the drum in our streets, to clothe our temples of justice in chains, and to creep along by the light of the morning star over the ground wet with the blood of Crispus Attucks, the noble colored man who fell in King street, before the mus- 356 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND kets of tyranny, away in the dawn of our Revolution ; creep by Faneuil Hall, silent and dark; by the Green Dragon, where that noble mechanic, Paul Revere, once mustered the sons of liberty; within sight of Prospect Hill, where was first unfurled the glorious banner of our country ; creep along with funeral pace, bearing a brother, a man made in the image of his God, not to the grave Oh, that were merciful, for in the grave there is no work and no device, and the voice of a master never comes but back to the degradation of a slavery which kills out of a living body an immortal soul. [Great sensation.] Oh, where is the man now who took part in that mournful transaction, who would wish, looking back upon it, to avow it? It did not make a President, it did not give a tariff, it did not increase the business of Boston a single dime." In speaking of the importance of public improvements, he pays the following glowing and merited compliment to the West: " The necessity of these improvements we have in the great loss of property every year, and oh, if the dead could speak if those who have gone beneath the turbulent waters of the Mississippi, and the stormy lakes, could give their testimony, what evidence should we have of their necessity ! The West has been neglected in this respect. When its forests blazed with battle fires, when the scythe of death hung upon its bor ders, it received but grudging aid ; but still its sons have been loyal ; they have met every trial and every danger without repining ; and when their country, which had neglected them, was assailed, seeing in her but the stern mother they should OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 357 cherish, they were the first in the field, and under the gallant Jackson and Taylor, and Harrison and Scott, they crowded the way to death as to a festival." Here is an extract which forcibly reminds one of the style which characterises the school of Young America. " My hope is that t may live and I believe I shall, to see the day when no foreign drum-beat shall be heard on the American conti nent [great applause] ; when the feet of no foreign soldier shall tread its sacred soil [renewed cheers] ; when no man will have to say on what particular point he dwells, to indicate his nationality ; but when the proud title of American citizen shall be an assurance all over the world that he is a member of this Western Republic, so that its gorgeous banner shall wave its protection over him, not only on the shores of the distant Pacific, in the delta of the Mississippi, on the coral reefs of Florida, but from the bastions of Quebec, in the Bay of Cha- leur, on the banks of the Chaudiere, the St. Lawrence, and the Ottawa." The following impromptu remarks have been much admired. He was speaking of Mr. Webster, when some one in the audience said, " Mr. W. is ill." " My friend exclaims, Mr. Webster is ill. I am sorry to hear it. Indeed my soul was saddened this afternoon when there came tidings from Marsh- field that soon the angel of death might flutter his dark wing over the mansion of the great New England statesman. [Sensation and deep silence.] The cares of life are over for him ; the hurly burly of this night, in the street^ of Boston, and the political storm now raging over the country, will not disturb his lolemn reflections. I pause at the bedside of death. 358 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND No word shall escape my lips here to-night to wound on friend of his." [Increased sensation.] The indignant pathos of the following is unexcelled by any equal number of words in our language. " I ask you if glorious Rantoul did more than this ? Did he more than differ from his party on that single question of the Fugitive Slave Bill ? Was he not hunted from convention to convention even unto premature death, and even now his vile assassins drive their daggers deep down into his new made grave ? But, thank God, his lofty spirit is beyond the reach of their miserable malice, and his reputation is in the hands of those who loved him while living, and who cherish his memory now he is gone." The spirit of Young America breathes again in this quotation from Mr. Burlingame s Northampton speech. " We, the sons of the Pilgrims, who are knolled to church from the cradle to the grave who drink in learning and liberty with the air and the light who hew through moun tains ; chain the brawling rivers, and curb the whelming ocean itself; it is expected that we are to leave our grand employ ments, and put ourselves under the command of negro-drivers, who cannot sit at an honorable planter s table, and that we will chase men, women, and children over the graves of our fathers." Although Mr. B. does not court the Muses, they are evidently in love with him, indeed there is a rich vein of poetry running OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 359 through all his lectures and speeches. What can be more beautiful and poetical than the following gem taken from an oration delivered in New London, Connecticut. " Mr. Webster is the only survivor of that illustrious trio of statesmen, Who shook the nation through their lips, and blazed Till vanquished Senates trembled as they praised. " One sleeps this beautiful day, in the sweet shade of the magnolia s blossoms his great heart is still, and quenched is the light of his glorious eye for ever. Another and fit companion of the great South Carolinian fell but yesterday on the field of his fame, and now, cold and dead, is borne on his bier through a weeping nation, back to the generous soil of old Kentucky, there to sleep the sleep that knows no waking. The orator, the chivalric gentleman, and noble friend, is beyond the reach of malice or of praise never again shall he rouse us with his bugle blasts, nor melt us into tenderness by the touching mel ody of his voice. And he, of the imperial intellect, With the Athenian s glowing style, and Tully s fire, wanders, companionless and alone, by the deep sea he loves so well gazing, with his great eyes, toward that undis covered country, from whose bourne no traveller returns. Oh ! long may he live and may the refreshing breezes fan his brow and bring back the roses of health to his fading cheeks. " I refer thus to these great Americans, not to conciliate 360 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND their friends not as a partizan ; no ! no ! let the bugle* of party this day sound a truce but in obedience to the Echoes that <rtart, When memory plays an old tune on the heart, I could not better illustrate the glory of our institutions than by reference to these great men, their noblest offspring." I cannot do justice to the young man s eloquence within the narrow limits of such a sketch as this, for I might quote a volume of beautiful extracts without exhausting the material. The Hn. Anson Burlingame is about five feet eight inches in height, and well formed; has dark brown hair, usually brushed smooth as the wing of a bird ; broad, white forehead, indicating strength of intellect; light-grey magnetic eyes and fair complexion ; is naturally gentle and generous, with impulse and intellect pretty evenly balanced. He possesses the true vivida-vis of eloquence. His style is what may be termed poetical, and yet he displays a good degree of terseness and conciseness ; is sparing of uniting particles and introductory Erases, usually employs the simplest forms of construction. No young man of his age in New England has appeared before the masses so frequently as he. No man of his years has a sunnier prospect before him. I have elsewhere said that Mr. B. is a poet. I do not charge him with perpetrating verses, but there are poetic pearls glit tering here and there in all his public efforts. The ethereal tone and harmonious construction of his sentences, the strange imaginings that make fancy mount upward on her rainbow- tinted pinions show that ideality sits close by the throne of OUT-HAND TAKINGS. 36 1 reason, and reigns conjointly with causality over the realm of intellect. His designs are never clumsy, his pictures are nevei coarse ; his opinions, however unpopular, are never offensively thrust before his opponents, although he is known to be an unflinching advocate of freedom, an uncompromising hater of slavery. He can be mild " as honey dew or the milk of para dise," or vehement and volcanic as though his veins were filled with lightning. His chief fault consists in an over sensitive ness with respect to the opinions of others, though he is always true in the trial hour. What does the multitude think and say about me I Shall I perpetrate an offence against my friend by adopting and adhering to such a set of sentiments ? are questions that may never have been stereotyped into words upon his lips, but the writer is much mistaken if they have not weighed heavily upon his heart. As he grows older, he will become wiser, and learn to. lightly estimate the hastily formed views of the multitude or the mob. For the plaudits of the people to-day, may be exchanged for the " crucify him" of to-morrow. Mr. B. is a candidate for congressional honors, and ere many years he will be rewarded with a seat in the highest council chamber of our country. He has already been elected to the Massachusetts Senate, from the great county of Middlesex, receiving about twelve thousand votes. He was the youngest member of the senate. He now enjoys th honor of having been elected according to the borough sys em of England, out of the place of his residence, as was Hon. Charles Surnner, R. H. Dana, junior, and a very few others, to a seat in the Convention to revise the Constitution of the State. I will 16 362 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND conclude this sketch with the following beautiful extract, taken from his celebrated speech delivered at the State Convention at the city of Worcester. It speaks for itself, and needs nc comments from my pen. " And now, thanking you for the kind manner in which you have listened to me, I must take my leave. [ Go on ! go on ! ] No ! I must not go on. There are worthier here who should speak ; to them I yield happy indeed that I have witnessed this day. My heart is warmer for it. My step shall be freer and prouder. I shall take away in my memory the melody of the eloquence I have heard, and the light of the faces I have seen. [Cheers.] I shall go, determined to do in the future, all I can for the great cause we have at heart to struggle for the true glory of our country, ever mindful that though it has the sin of slavery upon it, it is still the freest in the world ; yes, the freest in the world. My feet have trodden the soil of old England, in whose air no slave can breathe. I have tra versed the warlike fields of Germany and France have stooG in the home of the glacier, and gazed down with full heart upon the first altars of Liberty ; and heard the cannon of tyranny thunder from San Angelo in the land of the old Roman eagles. But nowhere did I find .so free a people, and so happy a people, as in this my own, my native land. [Great enthusi asm.] And my earnest hope is, that the time may soon come, when the sun, which is now dipping its broad rim behind yon western hills, in all this land from north to south, from sea to sea shall not " rise upon a master, or set upon a slave.* [Tremendous applause.] 3-Yel~by j. c. B E (S> G& (S 363 OFF-HAND TAKINGS. GEORGE LAW. IN sketching the celebrated George Law, I am tempted tc indulge in alliteration, at the expense of the rules of rhetoric, but that is of little consequence, since I am writing oft-hand takings and not elaborate essays. George Law, then, is the Titan of traders, the colossus of contractors the mastodon of men. He is upwards of six feet in height, and of perfect pro portions, with physical strength to match his Herculean frame. This American Anak has not only the power of a giant and the voice of a Stentor, but the eye of an eagle and the heart of a lion. He has vital energy enough for a village of ordinary men ; and had he lived in the days of the Ancient Romans or Britons he would have been crowned king. See how he sends out armies to level the hills and fill up the vales, and pave our roads with iron. See how he scatters steamboats over our waters. There is nothing small about the man, his plans are great, his conceptions vast, his contracts immense, his fortune princely even his oaths are plump and unctuous with energy. As Samson carried away the gates of Gaza and afterwards whipped the Philistines, so he would take up the gates of Cuba and slay the Spaniards with the ja -bones of filibustering asses. Like Thor the thunderer he makes his dent wherever he strikes, for he has force of intellect as well as bodily strength, 364 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND and a generous heart beats in his broad chest. America owes much of her fame and wealth to such men. He is now in the prime of life, and having an iron temperament and a vast field in which to exert his incomparable enterprise, we vish him long life, and hope that his shadow may never be less DR. JOHN W. FRANCIS. DR. J. W. FRANCIS, one of the most distinguished physicians in the city of New York, is an excellent and amiable gentle man of the old school, whose pleasant manners and polite address have won for him many friends in the various walks of life. He is the son of Melchior Francis, a native of Ger many, who emigrated to this country shortly after the peace of 1783. The subject of this brief sketch graduated at Co lumbia college, in 1809, when he commenced the study of medicine, under the supervision of the celebrated Dr. Hosack, and afterwards became his partner in business. He has been a lecturer on materia medica, professor of medicine at Rutgers college, afterwards of obstetrics and forensic medicine, and was the first president of the New York Academy of Medicine. His medical works have earned for him a world-wide reputa tion. For forty years he has been actively engaged in the duties of his profession ; yet amid the incessant toils of his OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 366 laborious vocation, he has found time to prepare admirable lectures on various topics. His name is identified with the history of the Empire City, and he is far and away the most conspicuous man there of his profession. A municipal con vocation or a public demonstration involving the present 01 prospective interests of the city would not be called without consulting him, and his absence from such a gathering would be noticed and deplored by his vast army of friends. DOCTOR S. II. COX. DOCTOR Cox, the Christian gentleman whom the most devo ted Christians delighted to honor, the mighty man whose praise was in all the churches ventured to speak and write against American sins. At this time Doctor Cox was among his cotemporaries (a few excepted) what Saul was among the Hebrews, a head and shoulder the tallest, and the pulpit was a proper pedestal for such a noble statue. His sermons were sparkling with truth, beauty, and poetry. He seemed equally at home, at Parnassus, or Lebanon, or Calvary. His words had wings of fire and eyes of flame. Eloquence laughed in his humor and sobbed in his pathos. " The cross was always seen at the painted window of his imagination." He was the people s preacher, the defender of the down-trodden, a bright light on a golden candlestick. *But where is he now ? His late sermon in defence of the lower law has the gloss of silkf 366 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND while in reality it is more than half cotton. Is he so tired of his former eloquence that he eats his own words ? Has human ity fewer claims now than it had ten years ago ? . Has the truth undergone a radical change. No, no. The mob said great is Diana, and the Doctor said so she is. He saw there was some weight in the arguments that broke his church windows. He once identified himself with the friends of freedom ; he now turns his back upon them, and is numbered with those who go down to the South. At the World s Religious Convention, he was pre-eminently distinguished for his world-wide sym pathy his Christian magnanimity his soul-stirring elo quence his heaven-inspired zeal, and he would have been welcomed ^o any Protestant pulpit in England ; now, many Evangelical churches in England are closed against him, Why did he strip off his laurels and sacrifice so much on such an altar? He became the Pastor of a wealthy church, in the city of Brooklyn ; that church embraces some who are related by commerce and consanguinity to the South. These men got on the blind side of their minister, and made him believe the Union was in danger ; so he stopped saving souls and went to saving the Union, and wretched work he made of it. His effort was a failure. His heart was not in it. He has too much light in his brain, and too much grace in his heart, to do his talents justice, when he assails the "higher law." With regard to the Doctor s style, it is more, radiant than profound it has more glitter than depth besides he makes an egotistical display of his Greek and Latin. He lacks OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 36*7 concentrativeness, and cannot reason acutely and consecu tively. His work entitled Quakerism not Christianity, was a weakling at its birth, and never will be able to run alone. I doubt if it has reached a second edition. He sometimes preaches in blank verse, and since he is not John Milton, his sermons sound better than they read. Doctor Cox is upwards of sixty years of age a noble, dignified looking man with a magnificent head, and eyes of starlike brilliance. He speaks rapidly, notwithstanding an impediment, and in bis palmiest days he spoke with so much force, he seemed sometimes to split the words in which he clad his thoughts. Few men have uttered so many brilliant thoughts as he ; many of his wise sayings have passed into proverbs. He has more than a common store of originality extraordinary power of elo quence, compresses a great deal of meaning into a few words, but he is not a metaphysician. He is a comet of the largest magnitude, sweeping through the heavens, and not a fixed star. He is remarkable for his excellent social qualities a great favorite with those with whom he is intimately acquain ted. 368 fRAvmsr SKETCHES. AND FREEMAN iiuiTf. THE other day I called to see a friend, and found him con versing with the indefatigable Freeman Hunt, the enterprising editor of the Merchant s Magazine. The thought immediately occurred to me that he deserved a sketch. Mr. Hunt is one of the most persevering and energetic men in this country. Prior to the publication of that indispensable organ of commer cial news, he was poor and involved in debt, but the idea occur red to him, that a first class monthly, devoted to the interests of merchants, traders, &c., was needed that it would be appre ciated and sustained by the mercantile men of our country. He did not flood the land with promising prospectuses nor cover the walls of our public buildings with huge handbills, announcing his intentions to the gaping and gazing crowd, who avail themselves of the lazy leisure at their disposal, to read such gaseous productions; but like a man of forecast and action, he went to work, not by proxy, sending mealy-mouthed agents here and there, but personally, and visited many of the merchant princes of New York, to whom he explained in a manly and straightforward manner what he designed to do. They, like wise and generous men, as many of them are, seconded his resolution and unhesitatingly endorsed his sub scription list. When he had made a good beginning in the OFF-HAM D TAKINGS. 369 Empire city, lie visited Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and other cities, where his exertions were crowned with success. Now look at the fruit of his labor. He first originated the idea of starting such a journal, he next procured the list of subscribers requisite to sustain it, he then assumed the editorial management of it, and he now commands an influence of which a prince might well be proud, and has an income sufficient to satisfy the demands of his constantly increasing business. Mr. Hunt is a man, a noble man, a reliable man, who never forgets a friend, and never fails to recognise him, whenever or wherever he meets him ; for this reason, as well as many others, the writer is glad to see him prosper. Mr. Hunt is not only a very ener getic and determined man, but a man of exquisite sensibilities and cultivated taste. His statistics of trade show that he possesses unfaltering industry his elaborate essays prove that he wields the pen of a powerful writer. No well appointed counting-room should be without his invaluable magazine ; indeed, his list of subscribers and corps of contributors will not suffer in comparison with those of any in the United States or the world. He is pre eminently a practical man, of broad understanding, a wise knowledge of mankind, and great tact, governed by extraordi nary talents. N. P. Willis, speaking of him, says : "Hunt has been glorified in the Hong-Kong Gazette, i? regularly complimented by the English mercantile authorities, has every bank in the world for an eager subscriber, every consul, every ship-owner, and navigator; is filed away ai 16* 370 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND authority in every library, and thought of in half the countries of the world, as early as number three, in their enumeration of distinguished Americans ; yet who seeks to do him honor in the city he does honor to ? "The Merchant s Magazine, though a prodigy of perse veranco and industry, is not an accidental development of Hunt s ener gies. He has always been singularly sagacious and original in devising new works and good ones. He was the founder of the first Lady s Magazine, of the first Children s Periodical ; he started the American Magazine of Useful and Entertaining Knowledge, compiled the best known collection of American anecdotes, and is an indefatigable writer the author, among other things, of "Letters about the Hudson." Hunt was a play-fellow of ours in round-jacket days, and we have always looked at him with a reminiscent interest. His luminous, eager eyes, as he goes along the street keenly bent on his errand, would impress any observer with an idea of his genius and determination, and we think it is quite time his earnest head was in the engraver s hand, and his daily passing by a mark for the digite monstrari I have taken the liberty to copy from the writings of Edgar A. Poe the following sketch of his personal character and appearance. " He is earnest, eager, combining, in a very singular man ner, general coolness and occasional excitability. He is g true friend, and the enemy of no man. His heart is full of the warmest sympathies and charities. No one in New York is more universally popular. He is about five feet, eight inches OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 371 in height, well proportioned, complexion dark florid ; forehead capacious, chin maseive and projecting, indicative (according to Lavater and general experience), of that energy which is, in fact, the chief point in his character ; hair light brown, very fine, of a web-like texture, worn long and floating about the face ; eyes of wonderful brilliancy and intensity of expression ; the whole countenance beaming with sensibility and intelli gence. He is married, and about thirty-eight years" of age." Poe s sketch was written about six or seven years ago, and Mr. Hunt must have grown so much older, although there are no indications of it in his face or form. He is now in the prime of life, ripe with experience, with his natural force unabated, as the elasticity of his step, the vigor of his pen, the magic of his voice, and the magnetism of his countenance bear ample testimony. 372 CRAYON SKETCHES. AND B. P. SHILLABER. NOTWITHSTANDING the popularity of Mrs. Partington, and the deep interest manifested by the masses in her present and prospective happiness, there are but few individuals who have an accurate conception of her personal peculiarities, her mode of dress, her physiognomy, her education, her habits of life. She has been represented as an antique specimen of the feminine gender in petticoats, with a pinch of snuff between her thumb and finger, a pair of spectacles astride her nose, and a mouse-colored parasol in her hand. Now you and your readers will undoubtedly be surprised to hear, that this famous hero, I would say shero, wears pantaloons instead of petticoats a vest instead of a visite brogans instead of bootees ami a Kossuth hat in the place of a " kiss-me-quick." Indeed there appears to be more of the masculine than the feminine in her dress, and in her address also. Without any desire to test the credulity of the reader, I assure him, that I have seen the veri table Mrs. Partington late at night, in company with some of our city editors, perambulating the streets. You know enough about the moral character of such men, to form a fair estimate of her standing in that community without any hints from me. She smokes, drinks soda-water, wears men s clothes, and seems fond of the society of men. In politics, she is on the Post,* instead of the fence. She used to carry a handsome Carpet * One of the editors of the Boston Daily Post. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. oT. J Bag,* filled with beautiful things, dry-goods, and jewels, besides spicy things and sharp things too numerous to name. It is pretty generally known, hereabouts, at least, that B. P. Shillaber, a practical printer in this city (Boston), is the author of the quaint, odd, and humorous sayings attributed to Madame Partington. Mr. Shillaber has, within a few years, won a reputation which some lovers of notoriety would give a dukedom to possess. His strange speeches have been copied in all portions of our country; they have crossed the sea and kindled smiles on faces in foreign lands. There is a wise and humane blending of humor, philosophy, and benevolence, in the short utterances to which this writer has given vitality, which entitle him to a position among those who contribute largely to the fund of human happiness. Mr. Shillaber was born in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, July 12th, 1814. His parents were poor but respectable. They educated their son according to their ability, and per mitted him to enter a printing-office at the age of sixteen. In 1832, he paid his first visit to Boston. He did not dream that he could write anything save a weekly letter to his parents. In 1847, however, he made his debut with the sobriquet of Mrs. Partington. Soon after that, he awoke one fine morning and found himself famous. Recently a volume of his sayings and songs has been published, to which I refer the reader foi specimens of his style. I have room for only one or two para graphs of a later date than the book. * Formerly edited the Carpet Bag. 3H CRAYON SKETCHES, AND " I don t see," said Mrs. Partington, yesterday, as Ike came home from school, and threw his books into one chair and his jacket into another, and his cap on the floor, saying that he didn t get the medal; "I don t see, dear, why you didn t get the meddle, for certainly a more meddlesome boy I never knew. But no matter; when the adversary conies round again, you ll get it." What hope there was in her remark for him ! And he took courage and one of the old lady s doughnuts, and sat wiping his feet on a clean stocking that the dame was prepa ring to darn, that lay by her side. "How do you do, dear?" said Mrs. Partington, smilingly, shaking hands with Burbank, in the Dock square omnibus, as he held out his five dexter digits towards her. " Fare, ma am," said he, in reply to her inquiry. "Well, I m shore I m glad of it, and how are the folks at home?" "Fare, ma am," con tinued he, still extending his hand. The passengers were inte rested. "How do you like Boston?" screamed she, as the omnibus rattled over the stones. " Fare, ma am," shouted he, without drawing back his hand; "I want you to pay me for four ride." " Oh," murmured she, " I thought it was some one that knowed me," and rummaged down in the bottom of her ridicule for a ticket, finding at last five copper cents tied up in the corner of her handkerchief the "last war" handkerchief, with the stars and stripes involved in it, and the action of the Constitution and Guerriere stamped upon it. But the smile she had given him at first was not withdrawn there was no allowance made for mistakes at that counter and he went out, with a lighter heart and a heavier pocket to catch t othei OFF-HAND TAKINGS 875 Mr. Shillaber is a true poet, and were he to write less and commune with nature more, he would soon rank in the first class of American poets. The following sonnet is worthy of Wordsworth instead of "Wideswarth," (the nom de plumt he recently assumed). TO AN OLD CANNON BALL. " Grim messenger of war, before me lying, No more at thee will mortal cheek turn pale, No more wilt thou with hostile aim be flying, A stone of revolutionary hail ; As the bright sun melts up the icy rain, That the black clouds of summer sometimes pour; So time is melting thee to dust again, Thou dark remainder of an iron shower ! Good omen this, when waT s clouds clear away, And Peace angelic all our bosoms fills, That good, through strife achieved, alone doth staj , While rust away, in sure decay, its ills ! A better fate is thine, depend upon it, Than rusty death thou livest in a sonnet." Here is something containing less poetry, but just as much truth, and sin ie this is one of the warmest days in August, 1 mil copy A SEASONABLE SONNET. When June s hot sun pours down in fervid beams In striking beams that knock a mortal down, Or make the perspiration flow in streams, In regal streams, descending from the crown My mind recals a fat and jovial one, A jovial one that I did call my friend, 370 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Who melted on a timo neath such a sun, Neath such a sun, just like a candle-end. I saw him for a moment stand aloner Stand all alone beneath a hat of straw ; A moment more and on the sidewalk stone That reeking stone my wond ring visuals sa\$ A heap of clothes, suspenders, hat and boots, An empty wicker flask, and twenty smoked cheroote." The subject of this sketch is in the prime of life, a stout, hale, hearty man, considerably above the common stature, with a plain, frank face, a full breast, an honest heart, and a head clear as crystal. He has dark hair, is of the bilious-nervous tem perament, dresses in a careless manner. Since he has become an author, however, the hole in his coat elbow has disap peared. Should the reader meet him in the street, he would take him for an unsophisticated backwoodsman, and not for one of the editors of one of the most influential journals in the United States. He is genial as the sunshine, and generous to a fault sensitive, gallant, courteous, and urbane. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. BISHOP JAMES. ON Sunday morning, I went to Dr. Waterbury s Church on Bowdoin street, to hear the justly celebrated Rev. Bishop James. The church, or rather the building where the church meets, is a modest and substantial edifice, located away from the noise and bustle of the business streets. The sing ing in the church is super-excellent, and the sermon delivered by the Bishop, was one of the best I have heard. He spoke of the glory of Heaven in such glowing language, and illustrated his theme with such appropriate and beautiful imagery, and sustained his theory with such unanswerable logic, I will not do him, nor his sermon, nor the reader injustice by attempt ing to report what was so fitly spoken. When words have eyes, glowing with emotion, and syllables have souls, full of inspiration, reports will afford more faithful records of such heart-stirring sermons, than voiceless paper language can give at the present time. The Bishop is probably forty-five years of age, of the nervous-bilious temperament, is under the common stature, and has a womanish voice. He has a dig nified and ministerial look, dresses neatly in black, with a white cravat. He has a pale, intellectual face ; indeed, the commonest observer would say his countenance indicated nice tastQy and superior intellectual power. 378 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND REV. MR. WADSWORTH. ATTRACTED by the fame of the Rev. Mr. Wads worth, I went to the Arch street Church, for the purpose of hearing him. In order to secure a seat, I obeyed the first summons of the bell, and was fortunate enough to find exactly the place that suited me. While waiting for the preacher, I occupied a short leisure by looking at the building and those who came to wor ship there. The church is a plain, substantial building, well windowed for light during the day, and abundantly supplied with lamps for illumination by night. Indeed the tall lamps, on each side of the preacher, have the appearance of golden trees with branches of fire. The spacious edifice was filled below and above with a well-dressed, good-looking, wide-awake and appreciating audience. The pastor opened the services with a short prayer, but he spoke in such a low tone of voice, the sharpest ears in the nearest pews could not understand half the words he uttered ; then followed a beautiful psalm, which was better heard that was succeeded by a hymn which was read monotonously, but distinctly. I turned around to see the persons to whom I was indebted for such sweet music, and saw nothing but an ugly red curtain. I do not like the fastidious modesty which hides the choir from the congregation, for such voices as I heard there must coma OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 379 from " human faces divine," and to see them would not detract from the devotion of any worshipper. The prayer that followed the delightful singing was earnest, sincere, heart-moving. It seemed as though the pulpit was so near the throne of heaven the preacher was whispering at the ear of God. I remember the following sentence, " Running a race, fighting a battle, cut ting off an arm, plucking out an eye, knowing nothing, fearing nothing, obeying nothing, loving nothing, but God." His text was part of the twenty-fifth verse of the sixteenth chapter of Luke, " Remember." He commenced in a low voice, with lit tle or no gesture, with a very modest manner, a very earnest air, giving undoubted proof that his soul was in his sermon. It is quite evident that he labors hard, for every sentence shines with the " beaten oil of the sanctuary." Being somewhat fond of alliteration, he has fche art of wed ding his words, so as to clothe his thoughts in their Sunday suits. That he is a poet of the highest order, and no second- rate orator, I am already convinced, for notwithstanding his weak, and I may add, rather husky voice (perhaps he has a cold to-day), he has riveted the attention of his hearers and stir red the great deep of the heart. He warms as he proceeds in his discourse-, and raises his voice, and in spite of his apparent determination not to move a muscle, he begins to gesticulate, jerking his head backwards and forwards, suddenly stooping and rising, and now and then extending his arms. His elocution is just right for him, because it is natural, but it would not become any other speaker. Mr. Wadsworth is an orator endowed with genius ; he can dalighl 380 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND the fancy, please the taste with his exquisite poetry, move the heart and rouse the passions with his glowing rhetoric, and con vince the judgment with his irresistible logioT Now he points to the little grave under the sod of which sleeps "our darling" child, then he points to a sweet angel with its throne and harp and crown. Now he uncovers the pit, and scares us with its horrors, then he withdraws the curtain which hides Heaven from our sight, and shows us the golden streets and gleaming spires of the New Jerusalem. Now he calls a victim from the dark chambers of the damned, and we see him robed in a sheet of fire, with the undying worm on his bosom ; then he points to the cross which is planted in the pathway of the sinner. Mr. Wadsworth is a poet, an orator, a sermonizer, a theolo gian, a philosopher, a scholar. One of his chief faults consists in giving too much thought in one discourse for the common mind to digest. A good poem of a dozen stanzas might have been taken out of the discourse I heard, and then there would have been sufficient poetry left to light up every sentence with effulgent beauty. The sermon would have suited some better, if individual and national sins had been specified and reproved. In person he is of slender build, of common stature and hand some figure. His hair is black and long, forehead full, broad and high, showing very large ideality, comparison, and causal ity; eyebrows black, eyes expressive of benevolence, nose straight, mouth classically chiselled, cheeks fat, round, and pleasant ; complexion dark, temperament nervous-bilious. He wears spectacles, dresses neatly, wears no ornaments, save those of a meek and quiet spirit. He pronounced the benedio- OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 381 (ion in a whisper. While the choir was singing the closing hymn, I observed that the tears flowed freely from his eyes honest tears tears such as attest a man s sincerity, not crocodile tears for common exhibition. In ending this brief sketch, writ ten on short notice, the reader must permit me to say, that Mr. Wadsworth is a man who seems to be panting with poetry His thoughts bloom up in spontaneous and brilliant clusters. He has a terse way of wedging a volume of argument into the interstices between his poetry and his philosophy : for instance : " Do you say God cannot make a hell ? He has made a conscience. He has made a memory. He has made the soul immortal." He will never sober down, for such men never grow old. The flock must take care of their pastor, for he will not take care of himself, while he takes care of the flock. As the people of his charge value his life, let them see that he has air, and exercise, and repose ; money enough he will be sure of. What he needs is more physical and less mental labor. 382 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND REV. DR. DURBIN. A SMALL, plain man, with a neck-cloth white as snow, and a coat black as a raven s feather, is sitting in the desk, supported on the left by the pastor of the church, and on the right by a fine- looking man, whose duke-like countenance is lit up with a pair of glowing eyes. Something extra is expected, for the congre gation is punctuated with preachers, and Bishop Waugh, with his Calhoun cast of figure and feature, is sitting within the railings of the altar. Every stranger supposes the magnificent man on the right is the author of " Observations in Europe," the preacher whose praise is in all the churches ; and they will be pleased when that pale-faced man, with dull eyes and nar row forehead, has got through with the opening ceremonies, for he has such a feminine voice, and such a drawling manner, and there is nothing prepossessing in his features, and no drawing- room mannerism in his gestures. He has just concluded a fer vent prayer, so full of thought, and piety, and spirit, it seemed as though there was a telegraphic communication between the pulpit, where the preacher prayed, and the throne where God answers prayer. Another hymn is read in th same monoto nous manner, by the same loth-to-part lips ; and now, to the astonishment of the audience, that same prosy little man rises up to preach. Well, he has displayed nice ta*te in selecting a OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 38-5 part of the history of Naaman as the thesis of his discourse, There is a pudding-headed man, who has eaten so much break fast he cannot keep awake, he thinks, under such a preacher, so he rests his head upon the top of tb 3 pew. In the mean time the preacher proceeds, speaking extemporaneously, with his hands sometimes resting on the open Bible before him, and sometimes they are brought together in the region of the heart. S. A. 60UGLAS. STEPHEN ARNOLD DOUGLAS the famous, or infamous United States Senator, from Illinois, and one of the most pro minent politicians in the Democratic party and the origin ator of the Nebraska Bill is a native of Vermont ; but he sustains no relationship whatever to Ethan Allan, or any of the Green Mountain boys, whose names are crystalized in our country s history. He is a man of considerable ability, but his selfish ambition has overleaped itself, and his fall has rendered him a political cripple for life. He has been weighed in the balance and found wanting in political integrity wanting in his attachment to liberty wanting in his loyalty to the land of his birth wanting in his regard for the welfare of humanity, and wanting in his respect for our holy Religion. His speeches in the Senate in defence of the Nebraska iniquity his efforts to break th 384 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND sacred seal of Compromise his utter contempt for the con tracts of our fathers, and his vulgar abuse of the New Eng land Clergymen, furnish abundance of proof that we do not speak without book when we declare Douglas to be the prince of Demagogues. He is a Northern man, whose lungs inhaled the free ail of the verdant mountains of Vermont, but whose heart never imbibed the noble principles of its patriotic inhabitants. He purchased a plantation and stocked it with slaves, to show his attachment to the peculiar institution. He was instrumental in banishing the free blacks from the State he misrepresents, that he might get Southern voies. Now he would doom Nebraska to " everlasting shame and contempt," to obtain a post of honor he is totally disqualified to fill. This unhappy and unfortunate man is now despised by the North, and dis trusted by the South ; and he richly merits the contempt of all mankind. Why, for a bauble he would barter the rights of unborn nations. That he might be the President of the United States, he would enslave the blacks for ever, in the bosom of this continent. If the middle name of Stephen Arnold Douglas could bo exchanged for the last, it would be most appropriate. Fate, however, has given him a part of the name to which he is above all men living pre-eminently entitled. Although a man of some talent, he has nothing approximating to genius ; having a good memory, and opportunities for intellectual cul ture, he studied industriously and rose rapidly from a cabinet maker s apprentice to be one of the Judges of the Supreme OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 385 Court, and member of the United States Senate, honors of which he might well be proud, had he been true to freedom and htfmanity. He has not been the faithful exponent of liberty. He has not been a true friend to humanity. In person, he is short and thick, with a broad, dark face, hazel eyes, high cheek bones, plebeian hands and feet. He is by no means prepossessing, and his manners are not such as would become a court of fashion. In debate he is a bully, and very brave when he fights with men who wear white cravats. He is pretty sure not to pick quarrels with plucky men; for, although he thinks very little of the rest of mankind, he has a great deal of regard for himself. Of his style of writing and speaking, I have not much to say. It is plain, blunt and logical, without much depth, and with no origin ality, and perfectly free from elegance of diction or eloquence of expression. He has no poetry in his composition ; tyrants never are on terms with the Muses. Without the stature of a Vermonter, lie claims to be the giant of the West but if he is the Brob- dignag, the rest of the inhabitants must be small Liliputians for Douglas is so little, he was never seen until he made the auction block his platform, or climbed into notice on the back of a negro. Contrast him with Sam Houston, his superior as much in mental as in physical stature. It is perfectly aston ishing that Mr. Everett should have displayed the white feather, when this impertinent little whippersnapper assailed the three thousand clergymen of New England. It is a pity that gentleman had so little "grit," when such a famous 17 " 386 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND opportunity was afforded to annihilate the anti-Nebraskiaa If Sumner could have assailed him, we should have heard the reverberation of his blows throughout the land. If Daniel Webster had been alive, he would have made another speech equal to his reply to Hayne. If it be true that " coming- events cast their shadows before," then the days of Douglas are numbered his politi cal death-warrant is signed by the people s autograph his political winding-sheet is woven by the hands of fate, and his political grave yawns to receive his remains. WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS. WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS, an American poet, historian and novelist, is a native of South Carolina, and was born April 17th, 1806. In consequence of the premature death of his mother and the failure of his father in business, he was placed in charge of his grandmother in Charleston, when he was quite young. At first he designed to study medicine, but afterwards determined to read law, and he was admitted to the bar at the age of twenty one. He had practiced his profession but a short time when he assumed the editorial management of a daily newspaper, in which he battled manfully against nullification. In this enter prise his expectations were not realized, and he retired from OFF-HAND TAKINGS. ,387 the avocation of an editor under a load of pecuniary embar rassmen-t. But he " resolved to retrieve his fortunes," and in the yeai 1827, he made his authorial debut before the public, by issu ing a volume of poems. Other poems speedily followed, but the one which attracted most notice was "Atlantis; a story of the Sea." It met with a hearty reception, and elicited en thusiastic encomiums from the press on both sides of the Atlantic. In 1833, he published his first novel, "Martin Faber," which was followed by "Guy Rivers," "Yemassee," "The Partisan," "Mellichampe," " Pelayo," " Carl Werner," " Richard Hurdis," " The Damsel of Darien," " Count Julian," " Beauchamps," " The Kinsman," " Katharine Walton." His principal biographical and historical works consist of lives of Captain John Smith, General Marion, General Green and Chevalier Bayard, a "History of South Carolina." These works do not embrace all the productions of his versatile and prolific pen. He has been a member of the State Legislature, and has won some renown as a public speaker. His literary reputation procured for him the title of LL. D. He is one of the brightest stars in the firmament of American litera ture. Mr. Simms has a vivid imagination, and is by no means deficient in artistic skill. His language is frequently faulty, but that is undoubtedly owing to the fact, he writes so much he does not take time to revise the productions of his pen. While he occupies a respectable rank among the poets of America, he stands at the head of that class of authors who 388 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND entertain us with light literature. I have only room for the following specimen of his poetry. Well may we sing her beauties, This pleasant land of ours, Her sunny smiles, her golden fruits, And all her world of flowers. The young birds of her forest groves, The blue folds of her sky, And all those airs of gentleness That never seem to fly. They wind about our forms at noon, They woo us in the shade, When panting from the summer heats, The woodman seeks the glade. They win us with a song of love, They cheer us with a dream That gilds our passing thoughts of life, As sunlight does the stream. And well would they persuade us now, In moments all too dear, That sinful though our hearts may be, We have our Eden here. OFF-HAND TAKTNOB. 380 JAMES GORDON BENNETT. JAMES GORDON BENNETT, the editor and proprietor of the "New York Herald," is a native of Scotland, but he has been so long connected with the press in this country, he has become a live lion here. A few years ago, I noticed a vast crowd of persons in front of a fashionable hotel in a western city, and inquired the cause of such a convocation ; I was informed that James Gordon Bennett had just arrived. Whether he be more notorious than popular, I will not assume the province of determining, but will hazard the remark, that the people of the United States would go farther arid give more to see him than they would to see the President or any member of the United States Senate. He has passed through various phases of literary life, having been reporter, sub-editor, and editor, and being now editor and proprietor of a paper broadly circulated all over this con tinent and Europe. While it undoubtedly owes a part of its circulation to the surpassing ability of its chief it is indebted much to the efforts made by cotemporary journals to crush it, for the vast number of readers which daily devour its contents. While many deprecate the course its editor pur sues respecting the reforms of the day, they cannot fail to give him credit for his courage and they must admire his 390 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND genius. Mr. Bennett has acquired an ample fortune; lias visited various portions of the Old World and rumor says, that he recently gave his mother a handsome jjhateau in the land of song and story, where she resides. In person, he is tall and slender, with a " literary stoop " in his shoulders ; his head is covered with long silvery grey hair, and his face hid behind a grey goatee, and moustache to match ; his eyes are light, with a squint in them, which fact he notices more than any one else. He is about fifty-five years of age ; quick in his movements ; and of a nervous temperament ; he dresses neatly; and is very sociable and pleasant in the society of his friends, although his pen burns at the nib, and its strokes are like the stings of scorpions. CALEB GUSHING. CALEB GUSHING and William Lloyd Garrison, were the principal contributors to one of the first papers published at Newburyport, Massachusetts. The former was a young attor ney of fair talents, with a good country practice ; the latter, a journeyman printer of superior ability, and the anonymous author of some splendid essays, which were attributed to some of the most classical and popular writers of that period. Cushing was a Whig originally, but being disappointed in his aspirations, he resolved not to drown himself, but to turn democrat ; he afterwards became a coalitionist, and now he is OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 391 a "crusher." He is a paradoxical politician. He went to the Mexican war and fell into a ditch, cleaned himself, went into office at Washington, and again returned to his wallow ing in the mire. He is an ambitious man, with his eye on the presidential chair, and will " stick at nothing " to gratify his ambition. He is an accomplished scholar, familiar with several languages, a perfect gentleman in his address, has a large circle of friends and admirers, is personally handsome, tall, and of good mould. His late eulogy on the death of Vice-president King, is an eloquent and masterly production, abounding in pathos, and the most chaste and beautiful imagery. Although on the sunny side of fifty, he has been a judge, a Mexican general, a member of Congress, minister to China, and is now Attorney- General of the United States. JAMES WATSON WEBB. JAMES WATSON WEBB, editor and proprietor of the " New York Courier and Enquirer, was for many years the Apollo of the press, towering like a proud patrician above the heads of his compeers : " His fair large front and eye sublime declared Absolute rule, and hyacinthine locks Round from his parted forelocks manly hung, Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad." Eveu now, his natural force is unabated ; his eye has not losf 392 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND its lustre ; his pen retains its power, and notwithstanding the fact, that his raven hair has been bleached (more by thought than years), he is erect and massive as a column crowned with snow. He is a soldier, " born to command," and wielda the pen or the sword with equal facility. When a mere boy he ran away from home, afterwards entered into military life, and became noted for his feats of strength and activity. Having a constitution of iron strength, he was equal to any hardship he had to encounter. That he is a ready writer, and that his paper is the highest authority in commercial matters, no disinterested person qualified to judge will deny. He is, however, of the silver grey school, and turns a cold- shoulder on the political and moral reforms of this progres sive age ; a fact to be deplored, since his social position, his commanding talents, and his vast influence with leading men would enable him to accomplish an incalculable amount of good, were he to side with the " radicals," and stop saving the Union. DOCTOR DUFFIELD. THE Doctor is a deep thinker, a sound reasoner, a logical but not an eloquent debater. His voice, face, and manner all denote depth, earnestness, and sincerity. His sermons have little poetry, but much common sense ; few striking compari sons, but many straightforward truths; they do not shine with ornaments, but they are sharp, and cut deeply. Dr ^ OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 393 Duffield has more judgment than fancy, more power of con centration than power of origination. He never sinks down to mediocrity, and seldom soars to the heavenly heights of impassioned oratory. He has a heavy stock of goods oc hand, and cannot display them all at the front window ; indeed, he lacks taste, and is apt to show them the wrong side out ; I fear he is too conservative to keep pace with the strides of progress. He has courage, and yet like the coward in a duel, he chooses to fight the enemy at a distance; for instance, last Sabbath he attacked the tyrants of Europe, but let the tyrants of America go unscathed. The subject of this sketch is upwards of fifty years of age ; of medium size and stature ; wears a long, earnest, serious face ; has a square, not high forehead ; Roman nose ; flashing eyes, and aristocratical chin. He looks as though his clothes had been put on his person by some one else. His collar, unlike his creed, yields to every pressure, and his shirt bosom may be without spot, but is not without wrinkle or any such thing. His coat hangs like a bag on his back, and one would think he was unused to wearing such a garment ; then that huge gold chain, dangling against his satin vest, is out of place. Imagine a backwoodsman (with an intellectual face) fashionably dressed for the first time, and you will form a tolerably correct idea of the manner in which Doctoi Duffield appears. 394 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND J. R, LOWELL. LOWELL is one of the few who has the frankness and the courage to unrobe his bosom, and let the world see his heart beat. He has sufficient independence to think aloud, and dream with his eyes open. He shines because there is light in his brain, and he writes because his mind is pregnant with thought which must be born. He has a divine call to preach the gospel of love and liberty, in verse ; and he does not grieve away the spirit of his muse by remaining mute when he should speak. In his L Envoi, he says : "But if the poet s duty be to tell His fellow-men their beauty and their strength, And show them the deep meaning of their souls, He also is ordained to higher things : He must reflect his race s struggling heart, And shape the crude conceptions of his age." He deems this the land of song ; and he looks upon the rast forests, broad prairies, huge rivers, lofty mountains, and thundering cataracts, as the poetry of nature ; and yet he thinks the spirit of poetry does not spring from waves and woods, and rocks ; " her womb and cradle are the human heart," and man is the noblest theme for song. He proclaims OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 395 with trumpet-tongue that every nation has a Messiah with a message to man : " One has to teach that labor is divine ; Another, freedom; and another, mind." The bard must " write the death-warrant of tyranny," " stab falsehood to the heart," " make despots tremble," " preach the freedom and the divinity of man and the glorious claims of brotherhood," without waiting for hints from nodding trees, and dashing waves, and fiery clouds. The magnificent poem from which the above extracts are taken, is his masterpiece. It is highly finished, full of wondrous fancy and mighty thought. His sonnets are the sins of his poetry ; for he has no right to cramp his " genius " in one place and stretch it in another, on such an iron bedstead ; but since they are among the best to be found in our land or in our language, we pardon the transgressor, and say, " It is Alcibiades defacing the images of the gods." The following, addressed to that eminent and eloquent reformer, Wendell Phillips, is one of his best : " He stood upon the world s broad threshold ; wide The din of battle and of slaughter rose ; He saw God stand upon the weaker side, That sank in seeming loss before its foes ; Many there were who made great haste and sold Unto the cunning enemy their swords ; He scorned their gifts of fame, and power and gold, And underneath their soft and flowery words 396 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND Heard the cold serpent hiss ; therefore he went And humbly joined him to the weaker pan, Fanatic named, and fool, yet well content, So he could be the nearer to God s heart, And feel its solemn pulses sending blood Through all the wide-spread veins of endless good." Lowell has a great heart, brimful and running over with irresistible humor. His Bigelow papers abound in sly strokes of mirth that would make a stoic shake his sides with laugh ter. He is the Hudibras of America, and woe betide the unfortunate wight at whom he pokes his fun ; for, while it is sport to him, it is death to the subject of his sarcasm. He puts the following words into the mouth of a Yankee, when a man in epaulettes requests him to join his regiment and fight the Mexicans : "As for war, I call it murder ; There you have it plain and flat ; I don t want to go no furder Than my Testyment for that. God has said so plump and fairly It s as long as it is broad, And you ve got to get up airly Ef you want to take in God. Taint your eppyletts and feathers, Make the thing a grain more right Taint a follering your bell-weathers, Will excuse you in his sight. Ef you take a sword and dror it, And should stick a feller through, OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 397 .<-..: . ; Government ain t to answer for it, God will send the bill to you." Mr. Lowell is a genuine philanthropist. He beholds poo. Jown-trodden humanity, bleeding by the way-side, and like the good Samaritan, he lifts up the down-fallen, and the beast he puts them on is not an ass, but a true Pegasus. He teaches what we are, and what we ought to be what we do, and what we neglect to perform. He makes the brain and bosom glow with the luxurious beauty of his imagery, and spurs on to the performance of noble deeds by his clarion cry of forward. His "Legend of Brittany" is a labored and beautiful production, and gives ample proof of his descriptive powers as a poet. It exhibits, however, one of his glaring faults, for every now and then he exchanges his own Ameri can Harp for a German Flute. Several stanzas are disfigured by his dove-tailing Dutch and English words together, such as, " whilere," " unruth," " undazed,"" &c., &c. The reader may hunt through library after library, without finding any thing more like the music of an organ than the follow ing : " Then swelled the organ up through choir and nave, The music trembled with an inward thrill Of bliss at its own grandeur ; wave on wave Its flood of mellow thunder arose, until The hushed air shivered with the throb it gave ; Then, poising for a moment, it stood still, And sank and rose again, to burst in spray, That wandered into silence far away. ?> 398 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND His miscellaneous poems are sweet and fresh as winrows ol aewly-mown hay. Here is a verse taken at hap-hazard : "It s a mere wild rose-bud, Quite sallow, new, and dry ; Yet there is something wondrous in it Some gleams of days gone by." The " Violet " is sweet as the breath of that flower. The words in that " Fountain " rain down like pearl-drops in the sun-light leaping, flashing, sparkling, " waving so flower-like when the winds blow." Into the sunshine, into the moon light, into the starlight, into the midnight, ever up-springing, always down-falling. In the "Rosaline" we have pictures that make the flesh creep and the hair stand erect. Beneath the thick stars he sees the blue-eyed and bright-haired Rosa line. Her hair was braided as on the day they were to bo wed. The death-watch ticked behind the wall, and the wind moaned among the pines, the leaves shivered on the trees, strange sounds were on the air, and her lidless eyes gazed on him, while the mourners, with their long, black robes and nodding plumes, passed by. Then he sees the shroud of snowy white. By and by the stars came out : " The stars come out ; and one by one Each angel from his silver throne Looked down and saw what I had done j I dared not hide me, Rosaline ! I crouched, I feared thy corpse would cry Against me to God s quiet sky ; OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 399 I thought I saw thy blue lips try To utter something, Rosaline !" Then faces loved in infancy looked mournfully at him, unti his heart melted. The poem must be read to be appreciated Mr. Lowell has been liberally educated, and is one of the brightest lights that ever shone within the walls of old Har vard. Unlike most men of true poetic talent, he is a man of fortune, who knows how to enjoy the good things of this life without abusing them. He is a reformer of the most radical school. Notwithstanding the high ground he maintains as an out and out abolitionist, and the unpopularity of his senti ments on the subject of slavery, his literary labors are in great demand, and the productions of his pen command the highest price paid in this country, and obtain the widest circulation. Is not ten dollars per stanza good pay ? Mr. Lowell is thirty- four or five years of age, of medium stature, has a low, broad forehead, light eyes, a large shock of auburn hair on his head, and too much moustache, imperial, goatee, and whiskers, on his face. He is sociable, affable, humorous, and humane. He is married to a lady of exquisite taste and rare attain ments, who has written poetry her husband might be proud to own.* J. R. is a son of the celebrated Rev. Doctor Lowell Mr, Lowell and his family have recently returned from Italy. * Binv-e the above was written Mrs. Lowell has " gone to the angel land." 400 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND JOHN MITCHEL. THE most powerful opponent of English dominion in Ire land, during our day, has been the person whose name head? this article. O Connell, at one period, had a wider influence, and a more popular audience ; but the endeavors of the great orator were directed to a widely different purpose than were those of Mitchel. The former was a monarchist ; the latter a republican. The one sought only to repeal the Legislative Union between the two countries. The other desired a dis tinct nationality a separate State. O Connell himself, at one period " an uncrowned monarch," as some termed him, was subservient to the trappings the gold and glitter the pageantry the " Tribute of a kingly position," and never dreamed of a self-reliant nationhood for his native land. He even condemned the republican spirit which actuated the Tones, Emmetts and Fitzgeralds, on whose ruin, and from the suggestiveness of whose thoughts he came into power. Mitchel, in every particular, was the opposite of this. lie labored with a fixed purpose ; that purpose based on the doctrines of Jefferson, and the example of the American Union. He was tolerant with the intolerant, and earnestly strove to sunder those differences and enmities between the religionists of his country, which the agitation of O Connell had too deeply sown. He believed that no especial religion OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 401 should be linked with the national cause. Liberty was ? Protestant as well as a Catholic right, and ably and with great effect did he dare public opinion, as then formed, and state those things in the face of all. Himself a Protestant, he was not less a Catholic in his nationality ; and exposed to both parties the paltriness of their fears, as regarded the ascendancy of either sect, in the event of a successful revolu tion. His words fell with desperate effect, especially in Ulster, whose growing adhesion to the national movement more than anything else, forced the government from the wiles of policy into open and undisguised opposition to Mitchel. This remarkable man was born in Dungiven, in the North of Ireland, in the year 1816. His father was a Uni tarian minister, who had married Miss Haslett of Derry. While the subject of our sketch was yet young, his parents removed to Newry, where the future revolutionist received the rudiments of an excellent education. He afterwards came to Dublin, where he graduated as Bachelor of Arts, at Trinity College, and carried off several honors. His learning is not only varied, but profound on many subjects, and his knowl edge of the classics and ancient law is only equalled by his mastery of the modern systems of government. Mitchel, like nearly all of the leaders of the " Young Ire land" party, was originally intended for the church ; but his mind having undergone a change, he entered the office of an Attorney, a Mr. Quinn, in Newry ; and at the closing of hia apprenticeship, began life as the partner of a lawyer in Ban- bridge. 402 There is one incident at least of his apprenticeship which cannot be left im chronicled, and this was his marriage with <3 Miss Verner. He was only twenty at the period, and the circumstance is the more noticeable, that the parties eloped. In the Life of Theobald Wolfe Tone, we are struck with the noble devotion of his beautiful wife ; and when the life of Mitchel comes to be written, in distinct characters, on tho page of history, the love and fortitude of his accomplished wife will not be the least noble or interesting reminscenee among the many that will surround his name. That Mitche/s mind had been a long time brooding over the state of his country, before he came out publicly, is evident from the research shown in his " Life of Hugh O Neil," the great Ulster chief and statesman of the seventeenth century. This work was published towards the close of 1845 ; and at one bound its author took a high position as a writer and a nationalist. It is spoken of as a work of remarkable power, and a perfect daguerreotype of its able subject and his exciting period. On the death of the lamented Thomas Davis, whom Meagher called their "prophet and their guide," Mitchel became the chief writer and thinker of the Nation. In 1846, he wrote the famous article on Railways, showing how the} might be used by the people in troublous times ; and were not alone constructed for government use, as the officials had calculated. For this article the paper was prosecuted. In the same year the " Secession" from the O Connell party took place. On the occasion, Mitchel opposed the " Peace Reso OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 403 lutions" introduced by the O Connells, and strongly repro* bated the adhesion of repealers to either whig or tory ranks. He said : " For me, I entered this association with the strong convic tion that it was to be made an instrument for wresting the government of Ireland out of the hands of Englishmen, whether Whig or Tory, and not a coadjutor of any of them, perpetuating the provincial degradation of the country." And again this timely and scathing warning : " Brtve the Ulster Protestants away from you by needless tests, and you perpetuate the degradation both of yourselves and them. Keep them at a distance from you make your selves subservient to the old and well-known English policy of ruling Ireland always by one party or the other and Eng land will keep her heel upon both your necks forever. Slaves, and the sons of slaves, you will perpetuate nothing but slavery and shame from generation to generation." The " Secessionists" formed the Irish Confederation, which was composed of all the talent and energy of the national party. At the commencement of 1848, Mitchel left the Nation, as he deemed a more warlike policy necessary to the preparation of the country, than Mr. Duffy, the proprietor of that journal, would admit. To speak his own principles freely and without constraint, he started the United Irishman, called after the men whose labors he desired to continue to the destiny they augured for Ireland. It was the most pow erful exponent of the European mind of the day. With the shibboleth, that, the life of a peasant was equal to the life of a peer, he, in all the consciousness of right, preached the hope ful doctrines of a comparatively new faith. 404 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND " Since the days of Dr. Drennan," says the writei of a brilliant series of papers furnished to a New York journal, " had not been read in Ireland such noble exhortations as this famous journal put forth. They had all the vigor of Swift, and the point of Berkeley. But there was running through them, and flashing from them, an enthusiasm like that which summoned the young students of Germany to arms, in the Napoleonic war ; and which, again, in the upheaving of the nations, in 1848, called forth, in surging crowds, the stu dents of the European schools and universities, from Rome to Berlin, and from Pesth to Paris. It was a divine literature. It was resonant with the sublime intonation of antiquity. It absorbed and poured out again the songs of the Rhine and Alps, but was touchingly modulated with the sorrows of the Irish race; and, in quick vibrations, elicited the mirth, the scorn, the hope, the vengeance of the Celtic spirit. It was the omnipotent voice of freedom, which speaks in every tone and dialect, and from crowded cities, as from the dreariest solitudes, evokes the responsive chorus. " Whether we speak of sea or fire, in the exhaustless nature of each, we find a type of that spirit, which in Ireland the foreign foe has for centuries sought to master, but has never tamed and never can annihilate. If it be like the fire, and if it sometimes smoulders, a bold hand flinging in fresh fuel, can light it up anew. If it be like the sea, and if it some times sleeps, a passing wind will wake it into anger. This has been the history of Ireland ; this the explanation of her mysterious relapses and commotions. This gives us an insight into the perplexing future. " Mitchel s writings did not create, but evoked the insurrec tionary spirit of the country. The spirit had been there, and there for ever it will abide. But it was smouldering, and he cast it up in flames once more. It was stagnant, and he stirred it from its depths, and lashed it into a storm. OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 405 " Like a sky-wonder in a gloomy night Outshone this man upon the ways of men, Illumining the fetid social den, In which souls dwindled in their prime of might ; For that they lacked an honest guiding light, To cheer them from the chamber-house of chains. Where ghouls, with more tongues than the crop had graii.s Bought up their sense, re-buying with it bright Golden-lined favors from the despot s hand. Oh, thou wert one JOHN MITCHEL in the isle, To stand before the dooming cannons file, And preach God s holy truth unto the land ! Ay, your faith shook them from the damn d eclipse, As Christian sinners shrink neath the Apocalypse ! SAVAGE. The government was thrown from its centre. The most decisive steps were necessary such was the success Mitchel a appeals to Ireland had met with. The villainous " Treason- Felony Bill," or " Gagging Act," was introduced by Sir George Gray into the British Parliament, notoriously to put Mitchel down. W. J. Fox, M. P., the well-known English Liberal, considered the bill " an infringement of the liberty of the subject." If it were passed, he said " No man would be safe in addressing a meeting in times of political excitement." Of course the United Irishman was immediately brought beneath the lasso of the Gagging Act ; and Mitchel was arrested May 13, 1848, and committed to Newgate, on the charges of " felony under the provisions of the new act." He was brought to trial on the 26th, and at seven o clock in the evening, a verdict of " guilty" was returned. On the following morning he was sentenced to fourteen years banishment. The closing of the scene was deeply exciting. When the sentence had 406 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND been pronounced, Mr. Mitchel, in a clear, firm, and manly voice, then spoke as follows, amidst a solemn hush of breath- Less excitement : " The law has done its part, and the Queen of England, her crown, and government in Ireland, are now secure, pur suant to act of Parliament. I have done my part also. Three months ago, I promised Lord Clarendon and his gov ernment, in this country, that I would provoke him into his courts of justice, as places of this kind are called, and that I would force him publicly and notoriously to pack a jury against me to convict me, or else that I would walk a freeman out of this court, and provoke him to a contest in another field. My lord, I knew I was setting my life on that cast ; but I knew that in either event the victory should be with me, and it is with me. Neither the jury, nor the judges, nor any other man in this court, presumes to imagine that it is a criminal who stands in this dock, (Murmurs of applause which the police endeavored to suppress.) I have shown what the law is made of in Ireland ; I have shown that her Majesty s government sustains itself in Ireland by packed juries, by par tisan judges, by perjured sheriffs." BARON LEFROY. " The court cannot sit here to hear you arraign the jurors of the country, the sheriffs, or the country, the administration of justice, the tenure by which the Crown of England holds this country. We cannot sit here to suffer you to proceed thus, because the trial is over. Everything you had to say previous to the judgment, the court was ready to hear, and did hear. We cannot suffer you to stand at the bar to repeat, I must say, very nearly a repetition of the offence for which you have been sentenced." MR. MITCHEL. " I will not say any more of that kind but I say this" OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 40t BARON LEFROY. " Anything you wish to say we will hear ; but I trust you will keep yourself within the limits which your own judgment must suggest to you." MR. MITCHEL. -"I have acted all through this business from the first, under a strong sense of duty. I do not repent anything I have done, and I believe the cause which I have opened is only commenced. The Roman who saw his hand burning to ashes before the tyrant, promised that three hun dred should follow out his enterprise. Can I not promise for one, for two, for three 2" As Mr. Mitchel pronounced the words one, two and three, he pointed to the friends behind him. The men thus solemnly indicated were Messrs. Meagher, Reilly, and O Gorman. He then raised his eye with a proud glance, and recognising others in all parts of the court, he added with eagerness, " aye, for hundreds." Several voices in the vicinage of the dock simultaneously, and with deep solemnity, cried " thousands," " and promise for me." The words were taken up all through the court, and for some minutes the building resounded with " for me," " and for me, Mitchel," " and for me, too." Scarcely were .the echoes in the court-room silent before Mitchel, carried off in chains, with a strong force of cavalry, was put on board an attendant steamer, and bound for his destination. He was taken to Spike Island, in the Cove of Cork, afterwards to Bermuda, where he spent a year of " sus pense, agony, and meditation." After a five months voyage, he was next at the Cape of Good Hope, for five months, in a close, unclean and unhealthy cavity under the poop of th? 408 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND OFF-HAND TAKINGS. Neptune," when the Home Government ordered him fearing he should instigate, even by his presence, the excited men of the Cape to rebellion to Van Diemen s Land. With the assistance of Mr. P. J. Smyth, sent from America, by the friends of Mitchel, the Irish Revolutionist effected his escape in the middle of last year, and landed in San Francisco towards the close of October, where he met with the most rapturous reception. He immediately proceeded to New York, and has taken up his residence in the city of Brooklyn, L. I., with his family and friends around him. I am indebted to one of Mr. Mitchel s personal friends for the above graphic and beautiful sketch. It must hare been written before the gifted patriot sacrificed himself on the altar of American slavery. John Mitchel, in Ireland, was a repub lican, a hero, and a patriot. Had he died there, or in the land of his banishment, he would have been honored as a martyr to liberty ; but he unfortunately came to America, and, in a fit of passion, wrote an infamous paragraph, which went like a dagger into the very heart of freedom. Being too proud or too obstinate to retract, the indignation of the people of this country came down upon him like an avalanche. I cannot allow the above to appear in the pages of my book, without uttering a protest against his views of American slavery. THE END. THIS BOOK RK D LD YB 45568 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY