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Discourse on the genius and character of the Rev. Horace Holley, LL. D. : late president of Transylvania University / Charles Caldwell ; with an appendix, containing copious notes biographical and illustrative.
Discourse on the genius and character of the Rev. Horace Holley, LL. D. : late president of Transylvania University / Charles Caldwell ; with an appendix, containing copious notes biographical and illustrative. Caldwell, Charles, 1772-1853. 400dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Kentucky, Electronic Information Access & Management Center Lexington, Kentucky 2002 b92-53-27062004 Electronic reproduction. 2002. (Beyond the shelf, serving historic Kentuckiana through virtual access (IMLS LG-03-02-0012-02) ; These pages may be freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Discourse on the genius and character of the Rev. Horace Holley, LL. D. : late president of Transylvania University / Charles Caldwell ; with an appendix, containing copious notes biographical and illustrative. Caldwell, Charles, 1772-1853. Hilliard, Gray, Little and Wilkins, Boston : 1828. viii, 294 p.,  leaves of plates : port. ; 25 cm. Coleman Microfilm. Atlanta, Ga. : SOLINET, 1992. 1 microfilm reel ; 35 mm. (SOLINET/ASERL Cooperative Microfilming Project (NEH PS-20317) ; SOL MN02175.07 KUK) Printing Master B92-53. IMLS This electronic text file was created by Optical Character Recognition (OCR). No corrections have been made to the OCR-ed text and no editing has been done to the content of the original document. Encoding has been done through an automated process using the recommendations for Level 1 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines. Digital page images are linked to the text file. Holley, Horace, 1781-1827. Engraved by IKc2h-r.fromtiePGr -it bl St-art. aST I(w XttSa 1t;L) A DISCOURSE ON THE GENIUS AND CHARACTER OF THE REV. HORACE HOLLEY, LL. D. LATE PRESIDENT OF TRANSYLVANIA UNIVERSITY, BY CHARLES CALDWELL, M. D. PROFESSOR OF THE INSTITUTES OF MEDICINE AND CLINICAL PRACTICE IN SAID UNIVERSITY; wITn Ai AP1PEND.lX-, ',COEtA1I'f sf 3EPIQT1JS GAItS BIOGRAPHICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE. BOSTON: HILLIARD, GRAY, LITTLE, AND WILKINS. SOLD BY COTTONS AND BARNARD, AND 0. C. GREENLEAF, BOSTON; CAREY, LEA, AND CAREY, TOWAR AND HOGAN, AND J. GRIGG, PHILADELPHIA; E. H. COALE, BALTIMORE, AND 3. B. FLINT, CIN- CINNATI. 1828. EXAMI NER PRESS. Hiram Tupper, Printer-Bromfield Lane. ADVERTISEMENT. IT is due to the medical pupils of Transylvania University to state, that, from a knowledge of the splendid powers and manifold and great excellencies of the late President of that institution, they were deeply sensible of the loss which literature, science, and society had sustained in his premature death. Unanimously solicitous to make those sentiments publicly and re- spectfully known, it was at their request that the following Discourse was prepared and delivered. It is further due because it is highly honorable to them, to state, that, although the Discourse, when delivered, was theirs, and they had a right to call for the publication of it in pamphlet form, they generously waived that right, that the work might assume a shape and character more worthy of the memory of the distinguished subject of it, and be made, if possible, to yield a profit, for the benefit of his accomplished widow, and orphan son. To the liberal sentiments and manly conduct of the class, on the occasion, the following correspondence fully testifies. Transylvania University, Sept. 4th, 1827. SIR, The Medical Class, through the undersigned, a committee appoint- ed for that purpose, beg leave to tender to you their respects, and, being desirous of paying a suitable tribute to the Rev. Horace Holley, LL. D., late President of this institution, request the favor of you, to ADVERTISEMENT. prepare and deliver to them and to the public, in the form of an introductory lecture, a biographical memoir, or eulogy, as you may yourself deem most proper, in commemoration of that distinguished individual. Most respectfully, Your obedient servants, JOHN WARREN, LEANDER HUGHES, SYDNEY SMITH, VIRGIL BOBO. PROFESSOR CALDWELL. Transylvania University, Medical Department. GENTLEMEN, With an awakened sensibility corresponding to the occasion, and those sentiments of respect, which I uniformly cherish towards the pupils of this department, I have received, through your polite and obliging note, the request of the Medical Class to prepare and deliver, in the form of an introductory address, 'a biographical sketch, or eulogy,' commemorative of Dr Holley, late President of this university. Permit me to ask the favor of you to inform the class, that I duly estimate the compliment implied in the confidence thus reposed in me; and that, with such materials as I now possess, or may be able to obtain, and such ability as I can bring to the subject, it will be peculiarly gratifying to me to comply with their request. Accept, gentlemen, I entreat you, for yourselves individually, an assurance of my sincere and affectionate regard. CHi. CALDWELL. September 4th, 1827. Transylvania University, Alovember 7th, 1827. PROFESSOR CALDWELL-SIR, The Medical Class, through their committee, the undersigned, beg leave to express their high approbation of your very able and elo- iV ADVERTISEMENT. v quent introductory address, commemorative of Dr Holley, and solicit a copy of it for publication. Yours respectfully, SYDNEY SMITH, THos. HARRIS, JOHN WARREN, LEANDER HUGHES, STEPHEN W. BATES, VIRGIL BOBo, Committee. Transylvania University, Medical Department, GENTLEMEN, November 7th, 1827. In acknowledging the politeness of your note, of this morning, per- mit me to ask the favor of you to make known to the Medical Class the lively sensibility with which I have received, through their committee, the expression of their approbation of my discourse on the genius and character of the late Dr Holley, and to inform them that a copy of it is at their disposal. Accept, I entreat you, for yourselves, an assurance of my high and affectionate regard. CH. CALDWELL. Lexington, 14th February, 1828. PROFESSOR CALDWELL, The Medical Class, at a meeting held this morning, have unani- mously appointed us a committee, to wait upon you, and to assure you that the contemplated change in the form of publication of your late highly interesting and able address on the genius and character, of the lamented Dr Holley, meets with our most full and cordial ap- probation. Although it might have been gratifying to most of us, that it should have been published at an earlier period, still the difficulties in the procurement of the requisite materials, together with those far more elevated and benevolent feelings, by which you have been actuated, the alleviation in some degree of the situation of the interesting, and highly gifted object of the affections of him, whose character it is in- tended to commemorate, constitute a sufficient and satisfactory apo- logy for the delay on your part, and cannot, we believe, fail to receive the entire approbation of all who cherish themselves, or venerate in others, feelings of virtue and benevolence. ADVERTISEMENT. Permit us, then, in behalf of the Class by whom we have been ap- pointed, and of ourselves individually, to express to you the great satisfaction we have experienced at the change which has been ef- fected, and to assure you that the feeling which prompted it, will ever be held by us in sacred remembrance. Accept, dear sir, from the Class, and each of us, a sincere expres- sion of the most profound sentiments of friendship and esteem. WM. M. GwIN, D. H. MASON, PROFESSOR CALDWELL. A. W. SCALES. February 4th, 1828. GENTLEME1IN, The sentiments of the Medical Class, which you have been deputed to represent, as communicated to me in your very excellent and ac- ceptable note of this evening, touching the contemplated mode of publishing my Discourse on the Genius and Character of the late Dr Holley, are precisely such as I confidently anticipated from a body of intelligent, high-minded, and honorable young men. They are such as are infinitely creditable to them, and, as long as the power of recollection shall be mine, will not cease to be remembered by me, with mingled emotions of gratitude and esteem. Nor have they failed to make an impression, which will be as lasting as it is vivid, on the mind of the very amiable and distinguished lady, whom they most immediately concern, in whose destinies we concur in feeling so lively an interest, and to whom I have had the honor of making them known. Let me entreat you to be the organ to communicate to the Class these sentiments, and to assure them of the sincerity with which I reciprocate their expressions of friendship. Accept, for yourselves individually, my cordial thanks for the very handsome and complimentary style in which you have been pleased to address me, with an assurance of the sentiments of high regard, with which I have the honor to be, gentlemen, Your most faithful friend and obedient servant, CH. CALDWELL. Wi ADVERTISEMENT. Vii Lerington, February 18, 1828. DEAR SIR, I have read with lively interest the communication of the Medical Class which you were so kind as to send me. Such an expression of respect, so spontaneously rendered, to one whom they had so little opportunity to know, and founded on a claim so sacred and delicate, is alike honorable to them and flattering to me. It is not only a chival- rous manifestation of the elevation of feeling which belongs to gentle- men, but it carries to my heart a new conviction of the benevolence of the human character. The misfortunes, which pressed so heavily upon me during the past year, have furnished ample evidence of that benevolence. Thrown upon the wide ocean, helpless, unprotected, sinking under complicated calamities, with nothing of life left but a sensibility to suffering, had it not been for the manifold displays of that disinterestedness, I, too, had found a grave. To your sex, under Heaven, the praise is due; and it is grateful to the pride of my nature, as it is soothing to my self-love, to add another proof to my fruitful experience. I will thank you, Sir, to comumnicate to the Class the grateful sense I entertain of their magnanimous conduct. Perhaps, too, I owe them an apology for interfering with their rights-they having a prior claim to your Discourse, which they have so generously waived on my account. They must find an excuse in the hurry and warmth of my feelings, as remoter interests usually give way to those which are nearer and more exclusive. I relied on a principle in our nature, in which the ingenuousness of their conduct proves I was not mistaken. They will readily pardon a solicitude, which I, in common with the family of my late husband, could not but feel, to preserve some memo- rial of the genius and character of him whom we have lost; some testimony of his talents and virtues, and of the full, honest, unwearied, almost heroic exertion of them. We wished it to be a compre- hensive, permanent, not a cheap, ephemeral, work-to be in an elegant form, and, in all respects, worthy of the subject, of the friends, and of the liberal individuals to whose generous, but voluntary, contribu- tions, we would wish to owe it. They cannot fail to see, also, in the ADVERTISEMENT. claims of my son, the son of him who was devoted to the interests of education, to whom this school owns its obligation, and who was at last sacrificed to those interests, motives to exertion equally sacred and imperative. As you have generously consented to aid me in presenting to the world the predominant features of the great light which has gone out, you will have a corresponding sympathy, equally divested of any selfish impulse, in expressing to the little world to which your labors are now directed, the grateful sentiments of her who is left in darkness. Yours very sincerely, M. A. HOLLEY. PROFESSOR CALDWELL. The change in the original design of this work, has necessarily led to the form in which it now appears. Eulogy and biography dif- fering widely from each other, it was found that the Discourse could not, by any practicable modification, be made to assume a biographical character. It was, therefore, deemed expedient to retain it in its primitive form, and supply its deficiencies by a copious appendix. That the appendix is the production not of one, but of several pens, is owing to the diversities, in pursuit and residence, of him who is the subject of it. No individual had a sufficient personal knowledge of those diversities to be qualified to do full justice to them in the recital. The task was, therefore, divided among several. Nor is there reason to apprehend that this division will detract, in any measure, from the merit of the work. On the contrary, it is hoped that by further enriching it in matter, and bestowing on it a greater variety in style, manner, and thought, than it could have otherwise possessed, it will add to its interest, and render it more acceptable to an enlightened public. viii DISCOURSE. GENTLEMEN OF THE MEDICAL CLASS- Afflicting in its nature, melancholy in its circumstances, and calamitous in its issue, in no ordinary degree, is the theme on which the occasion invites me; t.cpdreKse pou._ Pursuant to a req1est with -which you have honored me, it ia'hbecptne my duty;Wt sdeak of what must shortly silepce ,ine, and yours to hear of that, which, youthfil asJ y'd ate, .ricl in health and present enjoyment, and gladdened by the prospect of all that can reward and brighten the future, is destined, at no distant period, to take from you the power to listen. Is any one prompted to inquire, what is this fearful silencer of the tongue and deafener of the ear-this foe to happiness, that wrests from us our possessions and frustrates our hopes, to which I have alluded in language so portentous It is Death, the mighty and inexorable sovereign, to whose sceptre all must submit; who makes but little distinction between youth and age, and demands his tribute with equal authority, at the 1 DISCOURSE. monarch's palace, the chieftain's castle, and the peasant's cot. Death, who, by a recent visita- tion, has signally verified the words of the poet, ' Death loves a shining mark,' has thus, by an act fraught with an inordinate measure of calamity, furnished the theme, of which I am :) speak, and you to hear. And, although it invites us to a retrospect where pain and sadness incalculably predominate, it is not wanting in matter of valuable instruction, nor in ground of admiration, comfort, and gratitude. TV. Yhc'iof :yE- Ybo.oiQ,;can Occasions similar to the present, Tha-v ibrftierly attended within these walls; eoh6,riattd 'o.'e'lers' .nd the purposes of educafiont it were, superfluous in me to desig- nate, in paitcAiar;i i818 Mournful occurrence to which I have reference. The void which presents itself, with an aspect so disheartening, in this circle of worthies and patrons of science, must announce to you the dispensation, with a force of expression, and a depth of pathos, which it were vain to attempt, in words, to rival. In a voice that is signally admonitory and appalling, and solemnized by the weightiest con- Pallida mors equo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas Regumque turres. f The Chapel of Transylvania University, where introductory lec- tures, and other academical addresses are delivered. t The Trustees of the University, in the midst of whom Dr Holley sat and presided, on public occasions. 2 I)ISCOURSE. siderations that pertain to mortality, it proclaims to you an event, which, from Maine to Louisiana, and from the Atlantic to the Mississippi, has visited, with no common measure of sorrow, all who do homage to exalted genius, who are friendly to the cultivation of science and letters, who honor magnanimity, active philanthropy, general benevolence, and manly frankness, and who set a righteous estimate on such other rare and in- valuable qualities and accomplishments, as elevate our nature, and secure to their possessor the high consideration of the gifted and the cultivated, the friendship of his associates, the esteem of the virtuous, and the admiration of all. It announces to you that Holley,-who lately presided in this institution with unrivalled lustre, to whose peer- less eloquence this temple of the Muses has so often resounded, whose judgment and taste were standards by which to decide on excellency both in literature and the arts; whose soul, as if obedient to an impulse of prophecy, often sprang forward into future times, and bodied forth the thick coming glories of his country, with a potency of reason, and a richness of color, that gave to them the charm of existing realities; whose hand of charity was ever open, whose hospitality knew no limit but that of his means and opportunities to extend it, who was a finished model of elegance in manners and refinement in breeding, and whose manly beauty and graceful deportment were as g DISCOURSE. attractive to the eye, as the mellifluent tones of his voice in conversation were delightful to the ear-it proclaims to you that a being thus favored by nature, and accomplished in all that education can bestow, has descended to the tomb, in the meridian of manhood, the fruitful prime of literary life, and the full enjoyment of ripened fame- torn, at once, from love and friendship and social felicities, the luxuries of admiration, and the fascinations of hope. True to life as remembrance assures me this brief outline is, 1 well know that, on an occasion like the present, your rightful expectations will not be fulfilled, nor the end at which I aim legiti- mately attained, by my employing exclusively, as the means of accomplishing them, abstract decla- rations and gratuitous assertions. In justifica- tion, therefore, of the general sentiments already expressed, and to show, in particular, that no unmerited praise has been awarded, it is requisite now that I treat analytically of the genius and character of the illustrious deceased. In attempting this, it would be superfluous, if not inadmissible, to dwell on his birthplace, parentage, or early education. These are cir- cumstances entirely accidental, and belong to the biographer rather than the eulogist. The individual, whose character and genius 1 am considering, was one of those rare personages, See Appendix, note A. 4 D)ISCOURSE . who are called into existence at propitious and distant periods-rari nantes in gurgite vasto-at once to direct as master spirits, and act the part of mighty engines, in influencing the destinies of their cotemporaries and posterity, on an extended, if not on a catholic scale. To encumber, there- fore, with the details and particularities of time and place, a tribute to his memory, which is to consist in a recital of his own attributes, thoughts, and benefactions to his race, would be irrelevant and unsuitable. Nor would the expedient bestow on me the shadow of facility in the accomplish- ment of my purpose. In descanting on the strength and majesty of the full-grown oak, it is needless to descend to the acorn or the scion from which it sprang, or to analyze the soil or describe the climate that bore and cherished it. In emblazoning the resplen- dence of the mid-day sun, no aid can be derived from a reference to the early gray, and subse- quent opening, of the morning twilight. Nor can a representation of the deep and si- lent grandeur of the Mississippi be rendered more graphical, forcible, or sublime, by interweaving in it an account of the many thousand bubbling foun- tains and noisy rills that constitute its sources. No more, from the sprightliness, sports, and pastimes of the boy, the fair intellectual promise of the stripling, nor even from his empassioned pursuit and instinctive attainment of science and 5o DISCOURSE. letters, must we expect to glean much materially to illustrate the full-blown character of the culti- vated, ripened, and powerful adult. In the pro- gress of the human intellect from infancy to age, few events are more common, than for an abun- dant manifestation of vernal flowers, to be suc- ceeded by a deficiency of summer and autumnal fruit, and the mellowed harvest greatly to surpass the promise of the blossom. Of Dr Holley's descent and early education, then, I shall only observe, that he was a native of Connecticut, and a graduate of Yale College, in which, as a pupil, he was highly distinguished. In confirmation of this, he received, on his gradua- tion, one of its highest academical honors. He was a favorite of Dr Dwight, the most able, accomplished, and celebrated officer that ever pre- sided in that institution; and, whether from nature alone, or in part from the influence of example, deepened in its effects by familiar intercourse, and friendly association, resembled him not a little in the style of his manners, and the character of his intellect. But it is due alike to truth and to himself to observe, that, in the graceful ease and elegant polish of the former, and the vigor, com- pass, and splendor of the latter, he surpassed, in It will be understood that the allusion here is to native endow- ment, not to acquired knowledge. In the latter, from greater age and experience, and more laborious and uninterrupted application to study, Dr Dwight was, perhaps, the superior. 6 DISCOURSE. no ordinary degree, his highly distinguished pre- ceptor and friend. Having brought to a close his collegial pursuits, he commenced, in New York, the study of the law, but exchanged it, in a short time, for that of divinity, and entered on his career as a minister of the gospel. And here it may be sufficiently pertinent to re- mark, that, probably thus, by the influence of ac- cident, was withheld from the American bar an advocate as powerful, and an ornament as bril- liant, as ever did honor to it since our existence as a nation. On his first appearance in the capacity of a preacher, the welcome he received, and the enco- miums bestowed on him were enthusiastic and lofty. Youthful as he was, he was hailed as a model of pulpit eloquence. Nor, by those who knew him, and listened to him, in his riper years, can a doubt be entertained, that the decision was righteous and the applauses just. His unrivalled promise, at so early a period, was correctly regarded, by the judicious and discerning, as an indubitable antepast of the opulence and splendor of his sub- sequent achievements, as a public speaker. But it is not my intention to trace, with minute- ness, the progress of the deceased, in his profes- sional career. Nor, brilliant and distinguished as he was, as a preacher, in the midst of clerical dis- tinction and brilliancy, in the most lettered por- 7 DISCOURSE. tion of the United States, is it on his strength and lustre, in that capacity, that I purpose to draw, for evidence of the lofty and merited renown, which it was his destiny to attain. The elements of that intellectual greatness, high cultivation, and moral excellency, which rendered him an object so imposing and attractive, are to be found in his character as a scholar, a philoso- pher, an orator, a teacher, and a man. To a hasty portraiture of him, in these several capacities, permit me respectfully to solicit your attention. As a further preliminary, justice and truth admonish me to observe, that in each of those components of his general character, Dr Holley was not alike accomplished and preeminent. As a general scholar, according to the techni- cal interpretation of the expression, although his attainments were sufficiently ripe and varied, for all the purposes to which he was summoned by his duty to apply them, yet truth does not war- rant me in denominating them either extensive or profound. In the literature of the Greeks and Romans, which, in a spirit of servile homage to antiquity, and in palpable violation of sound judgment and correct taste, has too long been recommended by the schools as the purest, if not the only pure ex- emplar of classical composition, his knowledge was respectable; but it was not, perhaps, entitled to a stronger epithet. DISCOURSE. Although he read with facility the Greek and Latin authors, included in the catalogue of academical classics, in the highest seats of learn- ing in the United States, he never studied them with critical accuracy. It follows, therefore, that he was neither perfectly awakened to all their beauties, sensitively alive to their native spirit, susceptible of the enthusiasm which some scholars experience in reading them, an able and severe judge of their excellences and defects, nor com- pletely master of their peculiar philosophy, as idioms of speech. Conscious, perhaps, in youth, of the vigorous workings of genius within him, and misled by an excess of that sentiment of self-dependence, which, in early years, is apt to have too much influence in the direction of powerful and original intellects, he probably sacrificed to these feelings some of the advantages he might otherwise have derived from a more intimate acquaintance with the litera- ture of the ancients. To scholarship in the ancient Oriental tongues he made no pretension, being simply able to read and translate the language of Moses, and nothing more. His knowledge of the French language was sufficient for all the purposes of science, although he could not, with either the pen or the tongue, express himself in it with facility or grace. To 2 9 DISCOURSE. all other modern languages, he was an entire stranger. But, by his profound and critical knowledge of his native tongue, he made amends, as ample as such knowledge can make, for all his deficiencies in relation to others. As relates to that, he was one of the most able and accomplished philolo- gists of the age. The true spirit and philosophy of the English language, one of the richest and noblest that has ever been spoken by man, whose literature leaves that of Greece and Rome immeasurably behind it, and is destined to constitute the classical fountain of coming centuries, he had studied with an inten- sity and a degree of success, that have rarely been equalled by the most distinguished scholars that Europe has produced. So completely had he mastered them, and so familiar was his knowledge of them, that he handled them, even as topics of conversation, with the most entire perspicuity, facility, and grace. So perfectly simple and intelligible did they appear, as, under the magic of his powerful analy- sis, they escaped from his lips, in the choicest expressions, that listeners seemed to forget that they constituted an intricate science, and received them as ordinary subjects, and suitable themes for ordinary minds-themes to the elucidation of which they were themselves abundantly competent. But, no sooner had they made the abortive effort, DISCOURSE. than they discovered how vain and presumptuous it was, to attempt to emulate the vigor of his intellect, and the acuteness of his dialectics. Thus the youthful shepherd, fired with ambition, and confident in his strength, on seeing Hercules hurling his club to an immense distance, after having playfully flourished it in air, attempted to repeat with it the same vibrations, and the same projection, but found it immovable. It will not, I flatter myself, be deemed unworthy of remark, that, as a means of imparting to our youth a more thorough acquaintance with their native tongue, the deceased was anxious for the introduction of the Saxon language, as an academi- cal study, into our seats of instruction. Nor can this improvement in education be too earnestly recommended. If, as the roots of but a denizen and limited portion of our language, the Latin and Greek are made subjects of study, surely, as its genuine origin and ancestry, the Saxon ought not to be entirely neglected. It may not be unimportant or without interest, to observe, that, on this topic, the sentiments of the 'Father of the University of Virginia' were the same. Hence the resolution of that illustrious sage, who had been accumulating wisdom for four fifths of a century, and whose equal Greece, in the days of her glory, never produced, to incor- porate in the discipline of that institution the study of our ancestral tongue. 11 DISCOURSE. Constitutionally enamoured of high intellectual excitement, our departed President never declined, in his career of inquiry, to combat with obstacles; but, in the true spirit of chivalry, rather sought them for their own sake, and selected them according to the difficulties they presented, and the resistance they were consequently calculated to offer. Thus, in the aspiring intrepidity of his efforts, did he verify, to the letter, the declaration of the knight, 'Or if a path be dangerous known, That danger's self is lure alone.' But, although hie felt no pride in a victory that was easily achieved, he always prepared himself thoroughly for the conflict. Influenced by these sentiments, in his capacity as a scholar, his chosen delight was in philosophical grammar. Of this selection the reason is obvious, and testifies to the resolute and elevated character of the deceased. The subject is, in itself, so subtle and refined, and presents to the student such a variety of pure abstractions, delightful analogies, and curious relations, recognised alone by the profound philosopher, that, for an intellect like his, it had a charm which none but such an intel- lect could feel, and no language less graphical and expressive than his own, could adequately describe. Correctly may it be added, that to none but such 12 DISCOURSE. an intellect has the subject an affinity sufficiently powerful to bestow on it a charm so attractive and absorbing. In that branch of scholarship he had perhaps no rival in his native country, and no superior, as is confidently believed, in any country on earth. If he did not stand alone in it, he certainly occu- pied, in the foremost rank, a station equal to the most conspicuous. In mere technical grammar, embracing the spelling and etymology of words, their collocation in sentences, their accent and quantity, and their general relations to each other, he had no marked superiority over many other scholars. These were matters too limited, light, and mechanical, to awaken his ambition and engross his attention. He was content, therefore. with that competency of knowledge in them, which prepared him suffi- ciently for the usual purposes of literature and instruction. In the undeviating correctness, how- ever, of his pronunciation of his native tongue, which was so essential to the chastity and grace of his elocution, he was above competition. In this he was aided no less by his exquisite powers of enunciation, and his acute and delicate per- cipiency of sound, than by his perfect knowledge of the principles of the subject. But much more enthusiastic and engrossing were his feelings, in reference to language in See Appendix, note B. 13 DISCOURSE. its highest capacity-its various relations to the human intellect, as a mighty instrument of human power, and its affinity to the entire range of creation cognizable to man, as at once a source, a subject, and a medium of knowledge. In the science of language thus considered, he recognised an object worthy, in all respects, of the aspirations of his ambition, and the grasp of his faculties; because it presented itself on a scale of grandeur commensurate with his own expanded intellect, and was accompanied by difficulties, and entangled by intricacies, with which he delighted to grapple, and which none but masterly and dis- ciplined powers like his could resolve and subdue. For his profound and extensive attainments in this branch of science, as well- as for those in criticism, belles lettres, and taste, he was indebted, in a high degree, to his commanding knowledge of mental philosophy. Without such knowledge, those branches of literature and the arts can never be successfully studied and understood. For they derive from their conformity to the faculties of the intellect, not merely their attributes, but their very existence. Abrogate their relations and affinities to those faculties, and they cease to exist. Or destroy or change the faculties them- selves, and, as essentially dependent on them, criticism, belles lettres, and taste, will necessa- rily accompany them in their mutation or fall. Let those, then, who are ambitious of solid and 14 DISCOURSE. enduring reputation in philosophical grammar, and polite literature generally, become masters of the principles of mental philosophy. From his insight into the character and genius of language, Dr Holley saw in it one of the choicest productions of the human intellect, and one of the rarest subjects of a refined philosophy. He, therefore, with those enlightened and catholic views of it, which he cultivated in relation to all other subjects, rejected the hypothesis of its being an immediate gift from heaven to man. He be- lieved it to be, as it most indubitably is, as much the result of human invention, as a printing press, a telescope, a steamboat, or any other instrument with which we operate, or means we employ to effectuate our purposes. In the character of his various intellectual powers, he saw in man an aptitude to invent it. And that doctrine is alone correct, which ascribes to man, as his own pro- duction, everything that nature has fitted him to produce. For Heaven to bestow on him that which he is able, by industry and exertion, to procure for himself, would be not only supererogatory, but would amount to an actual encouragement of indolence. As well may it be contended that Heaven confers song on the nightingale or the mockingbird, as speech on the human race. It simply qualifies the former to learn to sing, and the latter to speak, and that is all that can be required of its bounty, and all that it performs. 15 DISCOURSE For the actual attainment, both the man and the bird must be indebted to the exercise of the powers bestowed. Language, when legitimately and accurately employed, expresses fairly the condition of the intellect of him who employs it; and its chief objects are, to produce, by representation and argument, a similar condition in the intellects of listeners, or to procure services, or exercise authority, by request or command. Even when used for purposes of deception, it still bears the impress, or reflects the image, of the intellect that uses it, and is intended to affect the feelings and influence the conduct of those who hear it. It varies, of course, according to the intellectual condition of its employer, and the particular facul- ties of the listeners to which it is addressed. Is it addressed by the reasoning faculties of the speaker to the same faculties in the hearers It is simple, perspicuous, accurate, and mild; and its object is the production of a change of opinion, or the confirmation of opinions already entertained. Is it addressed by a faculty of feeling or senti- ment to another faculty of the same description Are resentment and rage predominant in the speaker, and does he wish to awaken in the listeners analogous feelings The language is harsh, vituperative, vehement, and severe, and the sentiments conveyed of the same character; the tones are loud, and the manner violent, menacing, and wild. 16 DISCOURSE. Is the address from love to love, or from the attachment of friendship to the same affection or is it the purpose of the speaker to awaken in his hearers either of those feelings The language is mild, soft, and melting; the sentiments corres- pond; and the manner is soothing, persuasive, and kind. Does the faculty of veneration address itself to veneration, hope to hope, firmness to firmness, benevolence to benevolence, or fear to fear In either case, the language, sentiment, and manner correspond precisely with the faculty engaged, and both speaker and listener soon become possessed of the same state of feeling. Considered, then, as the mirror of the intellect, the interpreter of creation, as far as it is cogniza- ble, the potent engine by which man immediately and irresistibly operates on his fellow, and the everlasting means by which all knowledge is re- corded and perpetuated; considered, I say, in these points of view, language, as a science, as- sumes a beauty and refinement, and swells to a magnificence and sublimity, which no other topic of study can surpass, and which imagination itself is unable to transcend. And it was in these several aspects and relations that the deceased contemplated it with such intense and glowing delight, and that his intellect proved competent to fathom its profundity, resolve its intricacies, and compass, in discussion, the immensity of its extent. 3 DISCOURSE. To figure to yourselves, in the most forcible manner, the importance of language, imagine, for a moment, its entire extinction. By that single act will all antecedent and recorded knowledge be blotted from existence, and the fountain of future attainment dried up. In the magnitude of such a disaster, the confla- gration of the Alexandrian library, which impov- erished, for centuries, the world of intellect, and the effects of which the world of letters will never cease to deplore, would be swallowed up and lost, as the immeasurable ocean swallows the dew drop. As already intimated, the entire field of polite literature, criticism, and taste had been eagerly and faithfully traversed by Dr Holley, who culled, with curious and disciplined hand, both its rarest flowers and its choicest fruits, and thus at once embellished and enriched his intellect with such of its productions as were most beauteous and valuable, and most congenial to his own feelings. Of this course of training the issue was, that, as a critic in letters, he had few equals in any country, and, in the United States, no superior. In that department of scholarship his judgment was equally sound and severe, and his taste culti- vated, matured, and refined. In the style of prose composition, he not only preferred simplicity and plainness to ornate rich- ness, pomp, or figure, but carried that preference to an extent, that by some has been considered excessive. 18 DISCOURSE. In the style of his own compositions, his fa- vorite qualities were, of course, predominant. He pressed, in expression, as he did in action, directly to his object, without ornament or periphrasis in the one, or any circuition or complexity in the other. Both practically and as a matter of taste, he gave to substance the ascendant over show; and to vigor of thought, over mere force and ele- gancy of expression. If this overwrought simpli- city impoverished his writings, and detracted from their brilliancy, the cause was to be found in an effort, which he had carried too far, to curb the native prodigality of his intellect. For here, as in other cases, his fault was the result of exuberant endowment. So true is it, that genius may be overwhelmed in its own luxuriance, and dazzled by the abundance of its own splendor. In the style of poetry, sublimity, intensity, and force, were the attributes which to the deceased were most peculiarly attractive. To other beau- ties he was duly sensible; but in these he delight- ed. Although perfectly alive to the graphical elegances, and all the exalted excellences of Shakspeare, Homer, Pindar, Milton, and Byron were perhaps his favorite authors; and of the writings of these he was an accomplished master. Even when under the deepest fascination of their beauties, he was not blinded, by their dazzling effulgence, to the smallest of their faults. If he enjoyed them with the taste and refinement of an 19 DISCOURSE. amateur, he did not fail to judge of them with the severity of a critic. While dwelling intensely on their glowing pages, he seemed to swell with the same inspiration, and to experience, within him- self, the powerful workings of the same spirit, which, freshly breathed forth by the Pythian god, and redolent of the quickening essence of divinity, had actuated their immortal authors in composing them. Thus did he, in his own person, illustrate and justify, with perfect accuracy, the poet's re- presentation of a genuine critic;- 'A proper judge will read each work of wit, With the same spirit that its author writ.' As a philosopher, the intellect of Dr Holley was marked and peculiar. Although, as a whole, it was active, lofty, and expanded, perspicacious and singularly vigorous, it was unequally so on differ- ent subjects. While, in relation to some topics in science, it manifested no very decided choice, or extraordi- nary capacity, it inclined and clung to others with the powerful predilection and adhesion of instinct, handled them with preeminent dexterity and strength, and mastered them with surpassing ra- pidity and ease. The swiftness, in particular, with which, in a favorite pursuit, it swept over books, and the facility and accuracy with which it seized on their contents and made them its own, transferring, apparently, by a single act, the 20 DISCOURSE. matter of entire pages to itself, as it had been previously transferred from the type to the paper, constituted one of its most striking and felicitous characteristics. The unwonted celerity with which Dr Holley executed this process, gave currency to a belief, that his acquaintance with books was much less extensive and thorough, than was actually the case. Because he read and exhausted whole sec- tions and chapters, while others were halting through paragraphs and pages, it was imagined and reported that he scarcely read at all. Thus, in the acquisition of recorded knowledge, did the movement of his intellect seem almost independent of time, as the headlong rush of the eagle through the heavens sets space at defiance. And thus, by great achievement, in a short period, was he enabled to be alike familiar with books and society; and to enjoy, in a degree that has been seldom equalled, and never, perhaps, sur- passed, the rare privilege of being, in measures nearly similar, instructed and delighted by alter- nate converse with the living and the dead, the book of nature and the volumes of art. Nor did he acquire knowledge from the former source with less facility than he did from the lat- ter. Whatever he saw or heard in the wilds of nature, in cultivated places, in assembled crowds, or in the social circle, he rendered tributary to his improvement in knowledge, with an adroitness 21 DISCOURSE. and success which nothing but powerful intellect and ripened discipline could impart, and an eager- ness and promptitude that bespoke the divinity and the aptness of instinct. A mere hint on any topic, whether it was sug- gested by a book, or in conversation, was suffi- cient for his purpose. If the subject pleased him, he seized on it as if through a native affinity, and soon pushed his analysis of it far beyond that of the author or speaker, expounding it with a perspicuity, throwing around it a lustre, and enforcing his views of it with an ardor united to a gracefulness of eloquence, which often excited in his hearers no less of wonder and admiration, than it communicated to them of instruction and delight. If he was averse from encountering severe and long continued intellectual labor on a given topic, the reason was to be found in the extreme facility with which he acquired, at a single effort, all the knowledge that was requisite for his pur- poses. He did not weary his patience and ex- haust his powers in bestowing labor where it was not demanded. As has been true of many other favored sons of genius, his love of achievement by great temporary exertions, rather than by ar- duous and persevering toil, arose from the superior amount which his capacity enabled him thus to achieve. Had the most patient and enduring labors been necessary to enrich his intellect and 22 DISCOURSE. secure to him renown, his determination to excel would have impelled him to encounter them. If he did not extend the boundaries of human knowledge, it was not for the want of abundant endowment. It is too often the disposition as well as the practice of master spirits, to pass their time in leisure and enjoyment, while others are performing for them toil and service. And his pleasure consisted much more in attaining, from books or conversation, in a few days or hours, possession of that intellectual wealth, after which his inferiors in talent had labored for years, than in submitting to the toil of discovery himself. In effecting the conquest of knowledge, he greatly preferred the eclat of storm, to the less daring and brilliant movements of sap or siege. This predilection deserves to be recorded as an unfortunate instance of misguided ambition; an ambition of general attainment derived from others, rather than a devotion to profound, self- dependent research, and original discovery; an ambition to dazzle and impress from the pulpit or the rostrum, or in social converse, a limited num- ber of cotemporaries, rather than to instruct and delight the world and posterity, by an abundant stream of intellect from the press. Like many other individuals resplendent in genius, the de- ceased permitted himself to be too much engrossed in present scenes and fleeting enjoyments, regard- less of their influence on his future destinies. 23 DISCOURSE. Hence, though his cotemporaries were regaled with the surpassing beauty and fragrance of its flowers, posterity are deprived of the substantial repast they had a right to expect, from the fruits of his genius. With such resources and elegances as he pos- sessed, it was the duty of the deceased to have aspired to originality; a duty to himself, his family, his friends, his country, and science, to his own times, and those that are to come. Endowments less munificently bestowed, would have rendered him original, would have converted him into a writer. He would then have felt more deeply the need of exertion. Gifted as he was, had he eagerly and perseveringly toiled for the attainment of literary and scientific eminence, the age in which he lived, opulent as it is in the productions of intellect, and ornamented with the choicest monuments of taste, would have scarcely exhib- ited, in its galaxy of genius, a more resplendent luminary. But original discovery demands no less of labor than capacity. It springs forth spontaneously at thefiat of no one. Without the requisite offer- ings on the altar of research, it could not be achieved, even by the preeminent endowments of the deceased. But the charge preferred against him by his enemies, that he was a superficial thinker and defective in talents, that he was incapable of 24 DISCOURSE. writing, because he did not write, and incoinpe- tent to discovery, because he did not discover- this charge, I say, is not only unfounded, but recoils on themselves, exposing in them, at the same time, an equal amount of ignorance and malice. In preferring it, they stand avowedly self-condemned, and are virtually accessory to their own degradation. For as often as the strongest and most resolute of them came into collision with him, in discussion or debate, they uniformly felt the supremacy of his intellect, and, on a few occasions of deep excitement, quailed beneath the chastisement which they compelled him to bestow on them, and which their injustice and outrage so amply deserved. Were it necessary or admissible, names and places could be easily recited in con- firmation of this. If he was superficial, then, what were his opponents Was he but a shade They were but its shadow. Was he but littleness They were nihility. Such was the aspiring and etherial character of Dr Holley's intellect, that his chosen subjects in philosophy bordered on the transcendental. Most of them had an immediate respect to man in his intellectual capacity; some of them regarding him as an individual, and others in his social and political bearings. They were matter and spirit, with their proper- ties, powers, and mutual relations, as well in a separate, as an associate capacity, the doctrine of 4 25 DISCOURSE. causation in the abstract, the science of language, as already mentioned, mental philosophy in its several subdivisions, especially its physiological and ethical branches, political economy, consti- tutional law, and the law of nature and nations. His delight in these departments of science, in some of which he attained such peculiar pre- eminence, would seem to have arisen from a two- fold cause. They were in harmony with the master faculties of his intellect, and they presented to him problems of inviting difficulty, which severely, yet to him delightfully tasked his powers, and in the solution of which he held a proud ascendency over most other philosophers whom it was his fortune to encounter. For, in analyzing his character, it must not be concealed, that an ardent and highminded love of distinction constituted, in its composition, a prevailing ingredient. Nor will the intelligent and liberal, who look into the springs of human action, and attach to motives their proper value, consider this a fault. On the con- trary, it was an excellency of abundant worth. For without the incentive of such an ingredient, no one would encounter the toils and difficulties, and brook the disappointments and concomitant anxieties, that thicken in the path, and embitter the existence of the candidate for renown. In justice to Dr Holley, it is requisite to observe, that, to gratify his love of distinction, he never descended from his elevated sphere, nor availed 26 DISCOURSE. himself of means that were not manly and honor- able. The imputation of an attempt to acquire popularity by sycophancy or adulation, or any kind of meanness or trickery, would have roused his indignation, or stung his sensibility with the severity of a wound. If he loved distinction, it was that which is conferred by those who are themselves distinguished; not by the fickle and undiscerning populace. Laudari a laudatis amo, non a vulgo mutabili, might have been affixed to his escutcheon, as a suitable motto. To his favorite branches of science, which were, in their nature, so refined and subtle, and elevated so far above the reach of ordinary intel- lects, it has been alleged that Dr Holley was too ardently and exclusively attached, to the neglect of others of a humbler and less etherial, but much more practical and useful description. That this charge might have had some founda- tion in truth, will not be denied. Few things are more common than for a powerful intellect, fired by an ardent and enthusiastic temperament, to urge to excess a favorite pursuit. But the groundplot of the accusation was infinitely limited, compared to the superstructure attempted to be erected on it. With all his refinement and approximation to transcendentalism, Dr Holley was a practical philosopher. He presented in his character the rare phenomenon of an elevated metaphysical genius, united to that well adjusted balance of 27 DISCOURSE. the inferior faculties, which constitutes the all important attribute of judgment. In the genuine import of the expression, he was ' a man of busi- ness.' If, in the management of his own affairs, he did not always permit himself to be governed by what are denominated principles of prudence and common sense, it was not for want of an abundant knowledge of them. No man could descant on them more eloquently, expound them more clearly, or more conclusively demonstrate their practical utility. He well knew that the great body of society can no more depend, in its vital economy, on a refined and abstract philosophy, than the body of the individual can be nourished by perfumes and essences; but, that, as the latter must subsist on substantial food, the former must be sustained by substantial science. Although, therefore, he was not himself enamour- ed of the study of arithmetic, mathematics, mechan- ics and chemistry, in their multiplied applications, to the great transactions and essential interests of civil society, he had so competent a knowledge of them as to be alive to their importance, and to encourage and superintend their cultivation by others. Hence, while an instinctive predilection produced in him a devotion to the higher, and what some have denominated the ornamental branches of philosophy, he patronized and promoted the humbler and more useful, from a sense of duty. 28 DISCOURSE. In thus bestowing on what are called the exact sciences the phrase ' more useful,' I speak in con- formity to public opinion, rather than my own. In my estimation, as well as in that of the deceased whose character I am commemorating, intellec- tual philosophy, the science of language, political economy, and the law of nature and nations, are at once the most elevated, and among the most important branches of human knowledge. He, therefore, who devotes himself to the cul- tivation of them, is not to be regarded as wasting his time, and exhausting his powers, in subtle abstractions, hypothetical calculations, and super- human refinements. He is not to be deemed a visionary in science. He is acquiring that kind of knowledge which best prepares him to make of other kinds the most extensive application, and to render them, as instruments, the more operative in the accomplishment of great and momentous purposes. He is like the chief of an army, who must be thoroughly versed in the science of war, that he may be able to wield, with the more terri- ble effect, the technical attainments of his soldiers and officers. For he alone who understands men- tal philosophy, in its principles and details, is pre- pared to act with supreme efficiency on man as an intellectual object, and to use him with con- summate effect, as an intellectual engine. The complete success of others, when thus operating on and with man, is necessarily accidental-as 29 DISCOURSE. entirely so as is the success of a gunner, in his first experiment in the employment of fire arms. But to a triumphant result of an operation or process, a minute knowledge of details in the chief director is not essential. Napoleon was not dextrous in the use of the musket; yet millions of muskets replied to his command. He was not himself an adept with the bayonet; yet the bayonets of Europe were the instruments of his will. Nor, that he may direct the application of them to their most important purposes, is it requisite that the distinguished mental philosopher should be minutely versed in all the inferior branches of sci- ence. To have a general knowledge of their prin- ciples, objects, and ends, and to understand man as an intellectual subject and instrument, so as duly to govern him, as well when he is acted on by them, as when he is himself the agent employ- ed to act with them, is all that is requisite. With these requirements, and suitable opportunities to exercise and apply them, the mental philosopher, if enterprising, ambitious, and energetic, is all but omnipotent in human affairs. He is, at once, a true example and illustration of the maxim, that 'knowledge is power.' Notwithstanding the delightfulness and sublimity of mental philosophy, the vast scope of its practi- cal usefulness in the most important of sublunary concerns, and the exalted estimation in which it 30 DISCOURSE. is held by highly gifted and illustrious individuals in other countries, it is its fortune to be very gen- erally underrated in the United States. It is here considered rather as a scheme of subtle abstrac- tion and visionary speculation, baseless in itself, or built only on hypothesis, than as a branch of sound and legitimate science founded in nature. It is declared of it by many, that it not only con- tains no well defined and stable principles to re- commend it to the philosopher and the votary of truth, but that so remote is it in its nature from everything practical, that were it even true, it could not be useful. Although it is not my intention, nor would it comport with the occasion, or the discourse I am delivering, to attempt a labored and circumstan- tial defence of mental philosophy-nor does the science stand in need of a ministry so superfluous yet, as it constituted the favorite pursuit of the deceased, and as he even sustained obloquy on account of his devotion to it, a few words in vindication of it will not be misplaced. But first let me ask, By whom is it that mental philosophy has been thus magisterially arraigned and condemned By whom has it been pro- nounced an entanglement of subtleties, a mere web of vision, unsanctioned by truth, unsupported by nature, and useless if true I answer, By those alone who never studied it, never understood it, and who are necessarily, therefore, utter strangers, 31 DISCOURSE. as well to its usefulness, as to its beauties and surpassing delights as a science. Ignorance and prejudice are its only accusers. Neither know- ledge nor liberality has ever assailed it. By no one acquainted with it has it ever been made a theme of discommendation. On the contrary, by all who have had the industry, taste, and talent to render themselves masters of it, it has been uniformly pronounced a branch of science pre- eminent in the pleasures and benefits it confers. While presuming novices, therefore, audaciously denounce it, and feebly endeavour to attach to it a disgrace which does not fail to recoil on themselves, the intelligent are proud to bestow on it applause. But the most conclusive vindication of mental philosophy, and a recommendation of its value which nothing could resist, would be found in a perspicuous and fair exposition of its principles and objects, and its genuine relations to other branches of knowledge. Its subject is intellectual man, in his real nature, and in all the relations he sustains, whether in his mortal or immortal capacity, to the Great Uncre- ated, and to created things. And when it is re- collected how exquisitely curious and interesting that nature is, and how numerous and diversified, how elevated and surpassingly momentous are those relations, the sublimity and vastness, the beauty and utilities of the science that compasses 32 DISCOURSE. them, may be easily made to present themselves as delightful and swelling conceptions, but can with difficulty be expressed. Considered in this point of light, mental phi- losophy might be represented as a kind of epitome of all other sciences, in as much as it is an analy- sys and exposition of man, in his capacities and aptitudes to achieve the mastery of science in general. It primarily contemplates and expounds him as a being immortal in his existence, and accounta- ble in his nature; and, therefore, as a candidate for all the high and ineffable enjoyments arising from a progression in purity, refinement, capacity, and knowledge, which an all bounteous Heaven, through an endless futurity, presents to his ac- ceptance. Man, then, I say, in his most exalted and pre- cious capacity, his relation to his God, both as a subject of religious feeling and hope, and as pos- sessing faculties adapted to the attainment of the science of heavenly things, and the connexion they sustain with things that are terrestrial, is a recognised object of mental philosophy. So is he in his lofty capacity as an astronomer, approaching, by his glasses, the very boundaries of space, and, by his mathematical powers, calculat- ing the masses, distances, relative bearings, influ- ences, and laws of the great components of mate- rial creation, as an organized universe. 5 .35 So is he, as a poet, annihilating, at once, both time and distance, by traversing, in thought, the earth and the heavens, and culling from creation her choicest objects, properties, and affections, and superadding to them, in imagination, augmented excellences, to body forth a more exquisite crea- tion of his own. So is he, as an orator, pouring out, in a flood of triumphant eloquence, the strength and opu- lency of his mighty intellect; and, with a power bordering on earthly omnipotence, moulding to his purposes the intellects of others. So is he, as a philosopher, exploring the dark and intricate profounds of nature, and penetrating the hidden recesses of her temple, to attain a knowledge of her inmost workings, and unveil her secrets for the benefit of his race. So is he, as a scholar, with an intellect formed for recondite research, disciplined, refined, and polished by cultivation, competent to the functions of criticism and taste, and opulent in its treasures of the recorded knowledge of all times and all countries, where literature has had a being. So is he, as a mechanician, an architect, and an engineer, projecting and constructing roads, canals, aqueducts, fortifications, splendid edifices, columns and superb monuments of art, and other works of usefulness or ornament, public or private, as objects of necessity, convenience, or taste, in commerce or manufactures, individual accommo- dation, national intercourse, or public defence. 34 DISCOURSE. DISCOURSE. So is he, as a patriot and a statesman, a diplomatist and a leader of armies, earnestly de- voting his talents and wisdom to the enactment and execution of laws, or fearlessly contending, in the cabinet or the field, for the rights, the honor, or the safety of his country. So is he, as a painter, a sculptor, or a musician, or, in fact, as devoted to the cultivation and appli- cation of any other intellectual faculty or com- bination of faculties, with which nature may have endowed him. Such, I say-and the particulars of the illustra- tion might be greatly multiplied-are the extent, the richness, and the magnificency of the field, which it is the province of the mental philosopher to explore. And if any other can be designated transcending or equalling it in variety and beauty, grandeur and usefulness, I know not in what department of nature it lies. Man, as I have here attempted to depict him, situated in the centre of creation, with powers not only extending to its very confines, and filling and exploring every intermediate part of it, but reaching to the footstool of Deity himself, with ardent and never dying hopes and affections embracing, and vivid emotions corresponding to, the whole,-man, I say, thus situated and thus endowed, is, in himself, an epitome of immensity, and, in his intellectual ubiquity, stands forth an object of sublimity and grandeur, which nothing 35 DISCOURSE. in created existence can transcend, and which, as a subject of study, is worthy of the devotion of the loftiest faculties of the human intellect. But, I repeat, that the results of the true knowledge and exposition of that subject constitute the doctrines of mental philosophy-a science, which, as already mentioned, nothing but ignorance or prejudice undervalues and condemns; which has been zeal- ously cultivated by individuals, whose talents and attainments threw a lustre over their country, and conferred glory on their race; which was the favorite pursuit of him whom we commemorate; and, for his thorough acquaintance with which, he stood distinguished among the most distin- guished philosophers of the age. Another invaluable excellency of mental philoso- phy, is, that the study of it confers, beyond any other exercise, strength and acuteness on the in- tellect of the student. It gives to it a power of analysis and combination, which, applied to the investigation of other subjects, finds in them but little more than pastime and amusement. Thus in their preparatory exercises, the Roman soldiers practised with heavy armour, that, by the strength thus acquired, they might use their swords with the more fatal effect, when in conflict with an enemy. That Dr Holley and myself did not precisely agree in our views of mental philosophy, is per- fectly true. But it is equally so, that our differ- ence in opinion on that subject was much less ma- 36 DISCOURSE. terial than it was generally believed to be. And the points on which we concurred in belief were not only by far more numerous, but infinitely more important, than those on which we differed. Nor did our discrepancy of opinion ever pro- duce between us, as was by many both imagined and asserted, either alienation of feeling, or dimi- nution of regard. Ours was a difference purely intellectual, which had no shadow of influence in awakening resentment, or engendering dislike. Even in the most heated moments of mental con- flict, we never meditated the savage-like exchange of the calumet for the war club. We should have felt ourselves degraded in permitting a mere dis- crepancy of abstract opinion to subvert or disturb the harmony of our intercourse. As soon would we have suffered such disturbance to arise from the dissimilarities of our countenances, figures, or professional pursuits. Indeed, by unfolding the variety that necessarily exists in the intellectual constitutions of different individuals, mental philosophy conclusively shows, that to differ somewhat in opinion is a law of their nature-as clearly so, as it is for them to differ in complexion, or the native color of their hair and eyes. It is one of its excellences, therefore, that, by thus liberalizing the intellect, in communicat- ing to it a knowledge of itself, it cultivates the virtues of charity and forbearance, and takes from man the fell propensity to hate his brother, simply 37 DISCOURSE. on account of a disagreement in creed. Con- formably to a sentiment just expressed, it announ- ces to him mildly, but firmly and definitively, that as well might he hate him, because of a dissimi- larity in complexion or stature. If the deceased did not, from his own resources, improve the scheme of mental philosophy taught in the schools of the United States and of Europe, he became, with equal promptitude and zeal, the ablest advocate, and the most eloquent and in- structive expounder of that which had received the highest improvement from the labors of others. And if early prejudices, or other causes, deterred him from the adoption of that scheme which is de- nominated phrenology, and in the truth of which it is known that I am a believer, he adopted that which cannot be denied to be next to it in excel- lency. Instructed originally in the metaphysics of Stewart, Reid, and Locke, he afterwards attached himself, with the predilection and suddenness of instinct, to the greatly improved philosophy of Brown, and became as zealous and faithful a vo- tary, and as accomplished a master of it, as if he had been its author. Indeed, a gentleman of dis- tinguished intelligence, who had first attended the lectures of the Scottish, and afterwards of the great American teacher, gave, without hesitation, the preference to the latter, as by far the most perspicuous expounder and impressive inculcator of the principles of the science. 38 DISCOURSE. To render this evidence the more valuable, the gentleman referred to, was a native of Scotland, deeply enamoured of the glory of his country ,and proud of the genius, attainments, and powers of her distinguished sons. But truth prevailed with him over national prejudice, and he liberally ad- judged the palm to the American. In this case, as in that of Socrates and Plato, the illustrious pupil, in the perspicuity and force, no less than in the richness and elegances of his teaching, surpassed his preceptor. Under the present head of my subject I shall only add, that in the science of theology, both natural and revealed, the attainments of the de- ceased were extensive and liberal. Were I to call them profound, the term would be strictly con- formable to fact. And whatever others may have thought of the orthodoxy of his creed, he, at least, after the most deliberate examination of it, be- lieved it to be true. For, in his religious, as in every other form of sentiment and manifestation, he was not only a stranger to all affectation, hy- pocrisy, and pretence, but an indignant despiser of the impostors who practise them. Admitting, therefore, that his tenets were unfounded, a posi- tion which it is not my purpose to discuss, so sin- cere, and honest, and conscientious was he in his conviction of their soundness, that emphatically may it be said of him, in reference to that topic, See Appendix, note C. 39 DISCOURSE. that ' even his failings leaned to virtue's side.' Nor was his competency to judge of truth inferior to the earnestness with which he embraced it, or the zeal with which he diffused its benefactions around him. But too liberal to be influenced by sectarian in- tolerance, and holding in scorn the presumption and obtrusive importunity of the propagandist, he never attempted to force on the community, nor even on individuals, his theological opinions. Free himself to select his path to the footstool of Mercy, he was not the tyrant to throw others into chains, and attempt to drag them thither, by usurped authority, dooming them to the penalty of endless torment, in case of non-conformity to some nostrum of belief. True piety he held to be an affection of the heart, that can neither be call- ed forth, nor extinguished, by mere doctrinal in- fluence. Perfectly independent in his religious sentiments, and catholic in all things, to him the universe was a temple of adoration, every work of beneficence, and every instance of duty faithfully performed, an act of worship acceptable to Heav- en, and the only authority to which he bowed in homage, was the recognised will of the Living God. And a knowledge of that will he derived alike from written revelation, and that still ' elder revelation,' the works of nature. Let those whom it pleases to denominate heret- ical, and denounce, in maledictions, a religion 40 DISCOURSE. like this, and who deem such denunciation an of- fering of piety and a token of grace, take to them- selves, and press to their bosoms, as the delight of their souls, the present gratification and the future reward of the darling act! For me they shall rest undisturbed in their enjoyment. Never shall their feelings, their works, or their reward, awak- en my envy, or excite in me a wish to participate in their felicity. Give to me a religion of charity and benevolence, liberality and toleration, which forbids man to become the defamer and the per- secutor of his brother, which inculcates, as a duty, the study of natural, no less than of written reve- lation, and breathes forth among its votaries a balmy spirit of peace, harmony, mutual benefi- cence, and fraternal affection. Give me, I say, a religion like this, and, call it by what denomina- tion you please, I will joyously receive it as a boon from Heaven, give to it my confidence, and repose in it my hopes. But be it the reverse of this, neither its name, its doctrines, the authority promulgating it, nor all the other attributes apper- taining to it, shall hallow it in my estimation, or recommend it to my choice. Permit me to repeat, that whether orthodox or heretical, in its abstract tenets, thus liberal in spirit, pacific in principle, and beneficent in fact, was the religion of the deceased. And in unison with it was the tenor of his life. Sympathizing See Appendix, note D. 6 DISCOURSE. and rejoicing in the happiness around him, the more so if it proceeded in any measure from him- self, it was his delight and his practice to go 'about doing good.' As an orator it may be asserted of Dr Holley, as truly as it was of the great Chatham, in refer- ence to his Roman virtues and peerless endow- ments, that, in some respects, at least, he ' stood alone.' In that capacity, neither truth nor justice forbids me to add, that 'modern degeneracy had not reached him.' Of the orators of antiquity, whose fame is the theme of classical story, and who still furnish models for the world's imitation, the mantle of inspiration would seem to have de- scended to him, and gifted him like themselves. In the eloquence of the pulpit he was the para- gon of his country, if not of the age, and might calmly look down on all the efforts of cotemporary rivalry. Nor, in that line of oratory, has his su- perior, perhaps, ever shed a lustre on any age. Bossuet, of France, was not more elevated, vehe- ment, and impressive, nor Masillon himself more enchantingly attractive. To award to him a triumphant ascendency over Chalmers and Irving, the living Masillon and Bos- suet of Britain, is but to do what has been repeat- edly done, by sundry judges, whose decision is en- titled to undisputed confidence. To say the least of them, the matter, arrangement, and language of his discourses were equal to those of the dis- 42 DISCOURSE. courses of the British orators; and his delivery of them incontestibly and greatly superior. In gene- ral opulency of diction, and splendor of elocution, more especially in the majesty of lofty and solemn declamation, he left the two foreign divines im- measurably behind him. Nor, of his powers of analysis, when topics of depth and intricacy presented themselves, am I inclined to speak in less elevated terms. Here, as on all other points, he descanted as he thought, with accuracy, vigor, and resplendent perspicuity. Even matters of mystery almost ceased to be mys- terious, as they fell from his lips irradiated by his genius. Thus does the Bologna stone, although dark in itself, when exposed to the searching influence of the sun, drink in his beams, and become a radiator of borrowed light. As Dr Holley rarely appeared professedly in the capacity of an orator, except in the pulpit, and on public academical occasions requiring eloquence of nearly the same description, to speak of him, as such, in any other situation, where a difference in preparation, mode of address, and mental endow- ment would be essential, might seem gratuitous, and perhaps inopportune. Yet, if it be permitted us to judge from the tone and general character of his intellect, its distinguished promptitude in apprehending a subject presented to it, its quick- ness in perceiving its various relations, its readi- 43 DISCOURSE. ness in detecting its weak and vulnerable points, its dexterity in assailing them with the fulness of its means and its collected powers, and in unrav- elling and exposing whatever was sophistical or otherwise unsound in them, its self-possession and perfect intrepidity-judging, I say, from these attributes, united to his powers of sarcasm, wit, and poignant invective, his ready and abundant command of the most select and varied expres- sion, his lofty ambition prompting him to the at- tainment of preeminency in all things, and a few very splendid manifestations which he is known to have made in popular addresses to public bodies, and in the conflict of debate, there is not wanting ground of confident belief, that, in a de- liberative assembly, if he had not taken a decided ascendency, he would have ranked with the most distinguished orators of the day-with the Mack- intoshes, Broughams, and Cannings of England, the Mirabeaus, Foys, and Manuels of France, and the Pinckneys, Websters, and Clays, of the United States. The testimony to this effect is the more conclusive, as a characteristic excellency of the deceased, was, his wonderful power of popular extemporaneous address after brief preparation. As if she had cast him intentionally in her hap- piest mould, and endowed him in a moment of her most abundant prodigality, Nature had showered on this her favorite, in unwonted profusion and of the choicest stamp, those minor attributes, which 44 DISCOURSE. are so powerful in their influence, as the exteriors of oratory. In person and general aspect, as heretofore mentioned, he was not only elegant and imposing, but splendidly beautiful. But, without any of that delicacy, which, though peculiarly characteristic of youth, adheres to some throughout their lives, or the slightest admixture of feebleness or effemi- nacy, his beauty was as masculine as it was rare and attractive. With a stature of the most ap- proved dimensions, a figure so symmetrical as to be almost faultless, features bold, expressive, and comely, giving strength to a countenance beaming with the brightest intelligence, and animated with the workings of the loftiest sentiments and the most ardent feelings, he truly and emphatically gave to the 'world, assurance of a man-take him for all in all, we shall not look upon his like again.' Thus configured, gifted, and accomplished, when he ascended, in his flowing toga, the pulpit or the rostrum, assumed the air and attitude of the orator, and threw his eyes around him on an admiring audience, the presentation itself was a burst of eloquence-an exquisite exordium to a splendid discourse. Under the illusion of the mo- ment, the Genius of Oratory, indebted for his ex- istence to poetic fiction, might have been almost fancied to have started into actual being, and stood forth to view, clothed in the form and aspect most suitable to his character. An ordinary ad- 45 DISCOURSE. dress from a source of such promise would have been deep disappointment. One of consummate elegance, opulency, and force, could alone re- deem the pledge that was proffered. When to these attributes were added, a mellow, rich, and silver-toned voice, thrilling at times with the very essence of melody, and of unusual com- pass, flexibility, and power; an enunciation uncom- monly clear, distinct, and varied; a manner in the highest degree tasteful and animated, and action the most graceful, expressive, and appropriate, the combination to give to elocution all its fasci- nation, and produce by it its most powerful and in- delible effects, was as complete as nature in her bounty could bestow. To render it irresistible, nothing was wanting but the outpourings of a mighty and cultivated intellect-and the whole were united in the person of the deceased. Were I called on for substantial testimony of the peerless eloquence of this great orator, I would fearlessly refer to the vivid recollections of many whom I have now the honor to address, to the re- collection of numbers who were formerly members of the legislature of our Commonwealth, to the oft-repeated declaration of members of Congress, and some of the heads of departments in Wash- ington, and to the recorded effects of several dis- From a very excellent Discourse occasioned by the Death of Horace Holley, LL. D. late President of Transylvania University, by the Rev. John Pierpont, of Boston, we extract the following para- graph, in testimony of the correctness of what is here stated. After a 46 DISCOURSE. 47 courses delivered by the deceased, in Boston, at Plymouth, and in other parts of the New England States. It is not by scholastic dogmas, or any system of arbitrary canons, but by its power over the listeners, that the genuine excellency of eloquence can be determined. And, adopting, as our rule of judgment, this most natural and unerring test, we can have but little hesitation in believing, that some of the addresses of our departed Presi- few general remarks on the surpassing power of Dr Holley's elo- quence, the speaker observes;- ' To such as may consider this as too high praise I would remark, that that is the most efficient oratory, which, in the greatest degree, produces the effects of oratory. I would refer to Mr Holley's oration at Plymouth, on the anniversary of the landing of the Fathers of New England there; to his oration before the Washington Benevolent So- ciety ; to his sermon before the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Com- pany; and to his discourse on the anniversary of the Boston Female Asylum. ' You heard him before the Artillery Company. I do not, by remind- ing you of his triumph on that occasion, say that I approve of the noisy demonstration of excited and gratified feeling, the outright applause, which, then, for the first and last time in New England, broke out in the house of God, and echoed from its walls. ' I know not what it may prove to others to be told, or to see, that in our cold regions, where a fervid eloquence is frowned upon, under the very shadow of an iceberg that chills the young orator's veins as he looks up to it as "the hill from whence cometh his help," and that gives forth its light as coldly though as clearly as the moon gives down hers; I know not what it may prove to others to be told that, under such circumstances, a man had so seized upon and spell-bound a thronged church as to make the whole multitude so far forget the occasion, the place, the coldness of the rhetorical atmosphere, so far to forget the decorums of the age, and, what is more, so far to forget the fashion, as to break in upon his discourse by outright applause; but 48 DISCOURSE. dent have been unsurpassed, perhaps, unequalled in modern times. As a teacher and governor of youth, one of the most responsible and important stations that so- ciety can confer, or man occupy, Dr Holley was no less preeminent, than in the other capacities in which he has been represented. For in this, as in every pursuit and exercise to which he devoted himself, his high-reaching ambition impelled him to excel. I Aut Caesar, aut nihil,' was imprinted on his spirit by the finger of the Most High. to me, it proves that that man had risen above all others of his country and his age, as an accomplished and efficient orator.' From the records of the Boston Female Asylum, it appears, that the discourse by Dr Holley referred to in this note, procured for the insti- tution the most munificent contribution it has ever received on any anniversary celebration since its first establishment. The following vote of the Asylum is a fair manifestation of the awakened feelings with which the discourse was received, and the exalted estimation in which it was held, by those at whose request it was prepared and delivered ;-- ' September 27, 18]6. 'Voted, That the grateful thanks of this institution be offered to the Rev. Mr Holley, for the very eloquent discourse this afternoon deliv- ered in behalf of the institution, and a request that he will still increase the obligation by granting them a copy for the press. This request I am directed to urge with more than common solicitude. I can do it only by an appeal to the same motives which produced your animated and successful exertions to strengthen the weak hands. Will you not then, sir, give to those, who did not hear your sentiments, an opportu- nity of reflecting on them, before they bestow on remote and doubtful objects the support which is needed by our home charities Will you not give to the institution you have favored, the advantage which might result from this influence on public opinion, and the honor of a more permanent and extended testimony of your approbation' See Appendix, note E. DISCOURSE. Nor, as already contended, is there, in this de- claration, aught that is derogatory to excellency of character. On the contrary, its truth is evi- dence in confirmation of that excellency. For there is no sentiment or virtue more perfectly worthy of a divine origin, than an ardent and well directed love of distinction-an ambition to be foremost in the splendid career of laudable achievement and honorable fame. ' Living or dead, let me but be renowned,' is an exclamation worthy of the high-gifted poet who penned it, and of the aspiring young Douglas, to whose soul it was congenial. In a powerful effort for the attainment of distinction, the love of ap- probation throws into energetic and praiseworthy action all the more exalted faculties of the intel- lect. Hence, when properly directed and judi- ciously regulated, it gives elevation and excellency to the human character, and is a source of the most important benefits to man. As relates to the instruction and discipline of youth, it was not alone in the capacity of an ex- ecutive officer, that the marked preeminence of the deceased consisted. On that subject, his compe- tency to legislate, was in no respect inferior to his aptitude for execution. In the totality of his quali- fications, as a preceptor and governor, he was as truly and completely as individual man can be, ' ipse agmen,' a host within himself, qualified alike to originate, mature, and carry into effect. And 7 49 DISCOURSE. for this preeminency he stood indebted, in no or- dinary degree, to his thorough acquaintance with the philosophy of the intellect. In his general views of the science of educa- tion-for he was scientific in all things-Dr Holley was a liberal and practical philosopher. Catholic, independent, and rational, in all his digested and settled opinions, he was as far from being a vis- ionary projector of reform and improvement, as he was from being trammelled by arbitrary canons, antiquated customs, or worm-eaten authorities. While he held, that, by the influence of educa- tion, the age ought to be improved in practical knowledge, morals, and manners, he contended that that scheme of education could be alone ju- dicious and excellent, which was so far accommo- dated to the prevailing genius and character of the age, as best to qualify the subjects of it to ac- quit themselves with efficiency in the departments allotted to them; and that it should, hence, be mod- elled and conducted much more with a regard to the present, and a prospect of the future, than from a retrospect and remembrance of antecedent times. Education, therefore, he believed, ought Ato vary with the advancement and changing con- dition of society. Hence, it should be very differ- ent now, from what it was in former ages; and somewhat different in the western, from what it is in the eastern hemisphere; but uniform through- out the United States. See Appendix, note F. 50 DISCOURSE. For the better and more certain accomplishment of this latter purpose, he was an advocate for the erection of a national university, and the arrange- ment of schools on a federal plan, analogous to that of our political institutions. He was an ad- vocate, indeed, for the federalizing of everything susceptible of such modification, with a view to the production and confirmation of federal feel- ings, practices, and habits, to strengthen through- out the country the federal and national bond, and aid in perpetuating the union of the States. For lie believed, that, as concerns the permanency of that union, the stability and endurance of a moral tie, the result of education, social intercourse, early friendships formed at school by leading cha- racters, and a constant interchange of kind offices, the whole cemented and strengthened by a liber- alizing and harmonizing spirit of letters derived from a central and common source, are much more to be relied on than those of a connexion exclusively political. As a further reason for advocating the establish- ment of a national university, he believed, that, in the nature of things, great literary institutions are best calculated for the production of great men- at least of accomplished scholars, and pupils dis- tinguished for attainment in science. For, mor- ally and intellectually, as well as physically, it is the law of creation, that everything begets in its own likeness-a puny parentage, puny offspring, ) 51 DISCOURSE. and the reverse. A national university, therefore, being necessarily a grand and magnificent estab-- lishment, on the same scale must be the educated men it would regularly send forth, to participate in the management of national affairs, and shed a lustre on their native country. But his views of the salutary bearing and im- portant influence of a great national institution did not terminate here. Considering it as operating on a much more extended scale, and covering a field of wider compass, he felt and duly appre- ciated the effects it would produce on our literary and scientific reputation, as a people, in foreign countries. He believed that it would tend much more certainly and effectually than any other meas ure, to secure to us, in that species of reputation, the same ascendency which we are hastening to acquire in arts and arms, and which we have al- ready acquired in practical legislation and diplo- matic policy. As he was friendly to the establishment of a na- tional university, to be erected at the seat of the national government, so did he believe that the interests of science and letters would be greatly promoted, by the erection, at a suitable time, of a college or university in each of the States. But, that more than one in each State would be injuri- ous to education, was his settled conviction, the result of observation and deliberate reflection. .,2 DISCOURSE. Nor can the ground of this conviction be con- cealed from any one, who will examine the sub- ject with the requisite attention. To be, in charac- ter and efficiencies worthy of a State, a university should be erected, and supported, by all the opu- lency and means of the State, available for such a purpose. Divide those means, and they become, of necessity, insufficient for the accomplishment of anything great. Limited and feeble in them- selves, they can produce nothing that is not cor- respondingly feeble. This, I repeat, is a never- changing law of nature; and any deviation from it is only an exception. As well may a giant be ex- pected to descend from a pigmy, or the magnani- mous mastiff from the puling whiffet, as anything truly distinguished from a dwarfish school. Con- centrate your powers, if you wish them to be ef- fective in an eminent degree. Division into frag- ments will take from them their very name, and transform them to feebleness. When Napoleon meditated and most signally accomplished the overthrow of an army, or Nelson of a fleet, he penetrated its centre, dissevered its connexions, reduced it to parcels, and destroyed it in detail. A college or university must be regarded, in its kind, as a genuine sovereignty. But, as well may you erect and maintain two or three political, as an equal number of literary and scientific sove- reignties, in the same limited community. In either case, the production is a many-headed mon- 53 DISCOURSE. ster, and cannot possibly thrive. One head will drain off the life-blood from the others, or all will dwindle for want of nourishment. Nor is this all. Sectional feelings and passions will spring up; local and illiberal prejudices will arise; envies, jealousies, and hostilities will be engendered; one portion of the state will be ar- rayed against another; falsehood and defamation will be employed as weapons by the conflicting parties; morally and intellectually an embittered intestine discord will prevail, or a ruinous com- promise of interests will be effected, and the entire concern will run into confusion, and expe- rience, in the end, an absolute failure. That this representation is neither a fiction, nor an exaggerated portraiture, the nature of man compels us to believe, and existing realities abun- dantly testify. Show me a state or small commu- nity studded with a number of petty colleges, each one vying with the others for popularity and profit, and affecting to dole out the honors of literature, and you show me a community where literature is without honor; where scholars are as puny as the institutions that bred them, and where, to be liberally and competently educated, individuals must either go abroad for instruction, or educate themselves. That the academical organization may be cor- rect in form and proportions, and in all other respects well adjusted and healthy, the system of 54 55 Y DISCOURSE. general education efficiently administered, and science and letters brought to some degree of perfection, establish in each State, as it becomes populous, one institution of the highest class- call it university or, college, at option-and a sufficient number of subordinate ones, subjecting the whole to competent direction, and you will be successful in your effort. Your scheme will contribute to the illumination of the, age, the advancement of the interest and happiness of the community, and the permanent strength and glory of your country. Pursue a course the reverse of this, and the reverse of the issue will be presented as your reward. Neither honor nor advantage will hallow your enterprise. The community will swarm with a brood of scholastic pretenders, sent forth pre- cociously from their ill provided hives, uinripe, noisy, and conceited; but neither the strength of manhood, nor the raciness of maturity will cfiarac- terize your scholarship; nor can you ever attain, as a people, scientific standing or literary renown. Then will you realize, in all its force, the truth of the well known lines of the poet; 'A little learning is a dangerous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring. There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain; But drinking deeply sobers it again.' Should genius bestow on you any of its mighty and perdurable benefactions, or scatter among DISCOURSE. you its graceful and dazzling productions, it will be a boon from nature, or it will come to you from abroad. Your scheme of education, so de- fectively organized, and wanting in energy and every other genuine attribute of excellency, will have no participation in the glory of the event. Such were the oft repeated sentiments of Dr Holley; and, in confirmation of their truth, testi- mony ample and conclusive is presented to us, in the condition of the present, and the history of the past. Nor is there, in the United States, a single community, to which they are more emphatically applicable, than to the inhabitants of Kentucky. As respects the vital interests of literature and science among us, truly, and in a voice of solemn warning may it be said to the people of this Commonwealth, 'United you stand, divided you fall! ' 'Divide et impera,' was the banner motto, and the rule of practice, of him who, by means of it, subverted the liberties of ancient Greece-the most subtle politician, one of the ablest warriors, and the most consummate diplomatist, that an- tiquity presents to us. In relation to our literary institutions, let a spirit of jealousy and discord continue to divide the people of this Common- wealth, and, without any aid from the sword of Philip, we shall unnaturally and ruinously triumph over ourselves and the destinies of our posterity. 56 DISCOURSE. But let us, on the contrary, array, in promotion of the cause of letters, the united means and energies of the State, and the issue will be incal- culably beneficent and glorious. Under due cul- tivation and fostering patronage, native genius, awakened from its slumbers, and fresh in its magical and productive powers, will soon shed around us its witcheries to enchant, and its splen- dors to adorn, and pour forth its opulence to benefit society; an enlightened, and more salu- tary economy will pervade the whole community; and the Commonwealth, talented, rich, and power- ful in herself, will, not merely in the valley of the Mississippi, where it should be her determination and pride to predominate in all that is useful, great, and glorious, but throughout the Union, possess a weight and consideration, and exercise an influence, to which she has been heretofore a stranger, but to which an elevated ambition should prompt her to aspire. It is intellectual capital alone that can confer on her genuine and enduring greatness and power-in a particular manner, that can secure to her, in the West, the undisputed ascendency, which, as the eldest sister of that great and growing family of States descended from the confederacy that achieved our indepen- dence, she ought to claim, cling to, and strenuously contend for, as her inalienable birthright. In reference to every possible facility to estab- lish and administer a magnificent and successful 8 `7 DISCOURSE. scheme of education, the world can scarcely exhibit a spot preferable to one which Kentucky presents. Very few does she possess that can be placed in competition with it. And that spot I fearlessly proclaim to be the town of Lexington. Let those whose envious spirits and alienated feelings prompt them to hostilities and calumnies against us, pronounce this declaration vainglo- rious, if they please. Facts exist in ample abun- dance, had I leisure to recount them, which prove it to be true. Permit me to add, which I do most confidently, that if the institution, within whose walls we are now assembled, should not yet attain to a degree of very extensive usefulness and exalted renown, its failure will be attributable, not to any fault in the place where it is situated, nor to a deficiency of many other concomitant advantages, but to a want of wisdom and ability in its administration. In the words of the great dramatist, when per- sonating one of the firmest and last of the Romans, 'The fault will not be in our stars, but in ourselves, Should we be underlings.' A people more munificently gifted in native intellect, and more abundantly susceptible of all that education is calculated to impart, than the inhabitants of Kentucky, no age or country has ever exhibited. Give to them, on the principles of a well concerted scheme, the proper amount of 58 DISCOURSE. instruction and discipline, their literature will be classical, rich, and profound, and their intellec- tual manifestations of every description brilliant and powerful. The descendants of an ancestry distinguished alike for their chivalrous spirit and the splendor of their talents, their hereditary resemblance testifies conclusively to tho legiti- macy of their birth. Thus peculiarly blest in the genius of her inhabitants, unusually felicitous in the character of her climate, whether reference be had to its delightfulness or salubrity, and exuberant in many of the most valuable and delicious productions of the soil, Kentucky occupies a central position in the valley of the Mississippi, destined to become, in population, wealth, and power, one of the most distinguished sections of the globe. Thus favorably situated to invite pupils from every quarter, she presents preeminent and mani- fold attractions to the youth of the South, to re- pair to her health-bestowing fountains, her balmy and invigorating atmosphere, her deep embower- ing forests which dispose to contemplation, and her academic shades so abundantly qualified to become the haunts of the Muses, to receive instruction. Establish in her bosom, then, a seat of learning corresponding to the physical advantages she en- joys, and in all respects worthy of patronage so extensive, and it will be filled to overflowing by 59 DISCOURSE. the sons of the valley whose centre she constitutes. Nature would seem to have designated her as the chosen seat for such an establishment, and the wisdom and policy of her people should promptly and gratefully avail themselves of the boon she has bestowed. For the people not thus to em- brace the proffered blessing, would be to neglect the munificency of Heaven in their behalf, to be deaf to its call inviting them to prosperity, and blind to its finger pointing them the road to their most exalted destinies. Stronger still; it would be to surrender up tamely and without a struggle the sceptre of influence which they once wielded, and the preponderating name in Western America which they once held; to both of which, not only from motives of public and private interest, but from pride of ancestry, of political birthright, of person, and of State, they ought to cling, forever cling, with the generous sentiment and noble reso- lution of the naval hero, when he nails to the mast the colors, whose loss he feels would dishonor him, and sinks, if he must sink, in a blaze of glory, which the waves that receive him serve but as oil to augment and brighten. Is it the anxious wish and settled resolution of the inhabitants of Kentucky to acquire, with the proud reputation that must necessarily accompany them, a power within themselves, and a considera- tioni without, of which nothing can deprive them, but which, instead of impairing, time shall conse- s0 D)ISCOURSE. crate, strengthen in his course, and transmit with unfading freshness and lustre, to the most distant posterity Let them strenuously devote them- selves to the skilful cultivation and extensive dif- fusion of science and letters-their diffusions, not merely among themselves, but through the States that surround them-from the inland seas that constitute the boundary of our country on the north, to the ocean that washes its southern bor- ders-throughout the illimitable valley of the Mis- sissippi. An ambition like this, to supply with the invaluable capital of cultivated intellect a region so boundless, has a bearing that is godlike, and is justified and hallowed by its immensity and grandeur. It is views and meditated objects like these, that truly ' make ambition virtue.' And if she be true to herself, in the management of the means with which nature has supplied her, this ambition the Commonwealth of Kentucky can certainly gratify. She can become herself the recognised Attica, and Lexington continue the ' Athens of the West.' For Lexington is to her, precisely what she is to the valley of the Mississippi-her cen- tral and most eligible spot for the erection of a magnificent seat of instruction. Its appropriate size; the intellectual and cultivated character of its population, its interior, beautiful, and healthful situation, and its seclusion from the bustle of trade and navigation, all conspire to bestow on it, over 61 DISCOURSE. every other situation in the State, a triumphant ascendency. The truth of this, although the ig- norant may mock, and the conceited witling affect to jeer at it, its intelligent and magnanimous ene- mies will not venture to controvert. A place where the spirit of commerce predomi- nates, is withering to the spirit of science and let- ters-as certainly and naturally so, as are the skies of the north to the plantain and the banana. As well may you attempt to rear the rose, and give to it all its beauty and fragrance, among the thick entangled robber-roots and beneath the blighting shadow of the beech, as to make literature flourish under the influence of trade. Like bodies posi- tively electrified, the spirit of business and the spirit of letters are mutually repulsive. Oil and water, without an intermedium, will as readily unite, and become homogeneous. If this be not true, then is there nothing certain in the philoso- phy of man-then is history unfaithful, and obser- vation and experience delusive informants. In an overgrown metropolis, like London or Paris, which are worlds in themselves, it is possi- ble for two spirits to prevail; one amidst the throng of commerce, and the other in a more se- cluded part, to which the wealthy have retired for the enjoyment of tranquillity, elegance, and ease. In the latter situation, where but little business is transacted and little bustle exists, and where letters and taste are cultivated as accomplish- 62 DISCOURSE. ments and sources of amusement and pleasure, a seat of education may be erected and successfully administered. But in a town or city of ordinary size, there can be but one spirit. If commerce, therefore, predominate and flourish, letters must wither. Science is the growth of quietude and leisure. As well, therefore, may you attempt to cultivate it amidst the din of arms, as the clatter and confusion of extensive trade. Such, on the several topics we have passed in review, were the sentiments of our departed President and friend, as those of you wvho have hung with instruction and delight, on his public and academical addresses, and on his colloquial communications, must be ready to testify. Had we been so fortunate as to have caught and recorded his masterly thoughts, conveyed in his own felicitous expressions, as they fell all fresh and glowing from his lips, this effort of mine to recall and recite them, would have been unneces- sary. But, to our lasting regret and irretrievable loss, he neither printed nor wrote them, and therefore have I ventured to offer to your accept- ance this humble rehearsal. But, for the substan- tial correctness of it, as far as it extends, I hold myself responsible; for, on these topics, as on those of education generally, the deceased and myself were identified in opinion. But Dr Holley's exalted character, as a teacher, is not to be inferred merely from the liberality, 63 DISCOURSF. depth, and correctness of his views on the prin- ciples and schemes of education. As an executive officer, in giving to those schemes direction and efficacy, and in the general discipline of the human intellect, his merit was preeminent. In his qualifications for the government of youth, his powers of practical instruction, and his aptitudes for the general superintendence of the affairs of an institution, he was preeminently accomplished. His government, although dignified, firm, and uncompromising, was affectionate and parental; and at the same time peculiarly gentlemanly and refined. Possessed of a still higher quality, it was undeviatingly just. No personal resentments, no obliquities of temper, no unbecoming grossness of rebuke, nor any indulgences of partiality or favor- itism, mingled in its decisions, or marred its administration. While it was the rule of the father in the midst of his children, it was of the Roman father, and was resolutely transformed into the tribunal of the judge over such as had trans- gressed. Addressed alike to the intellect and the feelings of those who were the subjects of it, it commanded their approbation and conciliated their affections. His admonitions, when necessary, were so perfectly judicious, and so free from. all severity of expression, that they produced contrition, but never provoked the resentment of the delinquent.- Hence, by the numerous youth whom he instruct- 64 DISCOURSE. ed, no teacher was ever more sincerely respected and beloved. So true was this, that, like stranger and guest to the hospitable Roman, to him pupil and friend were synonymous terms. Few men have ever been able to mingle so naturally, with such courteous ease, and a deportment so affable, the dignity of the presiding officer, with the cor- dial and endearing familiarity of the companion. Nor did he ever experience, in consequence of such intimacies, the slightest diminution of his official authority. Having in his character no traits of mediocrity, much less of littleness, he had nothing to dread from the closest inspection. On the contrary, like the Andes or the ocean, the more nearly he was approached, his magnitude and strength became the more imposing. In communicating instruction, his style and manner, while peculiarly didactic, and as perfectly lucid as a tissue of sunbeams, participated of the qualities of his general address. They were elegant, eloquent, rich, and impressive. Without any adscititious aid from magisterial authority, they commanded, by their attractiveness, the devoted and profound attention of his class. It was thus,, that, by their beauties and excellencies, they ren- dered his pupils enamoured of knowledge, and led them to study, by a twofold motive, the abstract love of attainment, and the delight they expe- rienced in the process of making it; while, urging them to the same end, a third incentive arose out 9 65 6DISCOURSE. ,of their affectionate attachment to their parental governor and illustrious preceptor. It will be permitted me, on this occasion, to remark, that that teacher who does not awaken in his pupils a passion for knowledge, is unfit for his high and responsible vocation. If any of those whose hard fate it is to listen for months to his soporific prelections, attain to eminence, they will owe to him, for their good fortune, neither gratitude nor regard. His heartless instructions can have had no participation in the propitious event. But, in the capacity of an instructer and dis- ciplinarian of youth, Dr Holley's most exalted merit remains to be mentioned. It consisted in a dexterity, which has rarely been equalled, and never perhaps surpassed, in teaching his pupils to think for themselves-not merely to acquire knowledge, but to digest, assimilate, and apply it to its uses-not to derive information from books and oral communications alone, but to gather it from observation-to read and understand the book of nature, whose truth is immaculate, and whose author is God, and not to rely too much on the fallible productions of fallible men. This is the ultimate perfection of intellectual discipline-the highest and severest test by which the value of instruction can be tried. The intel- lect of an individual, thus disciplined, becomes a self-dependent and self-moving machine, capable 66 DISCOURSE. of indefinite progress in improvement. Earth is its study, creation its library, and nature, as the priestess of heaven, the only oracle whose re- sponses and dictates, it implicitly receives. Barely to communicate knowledge, unaccom- panied by training in the management and use of it, is to do but little, and exposes even that little to the hazard of being lost. It resembles the unavailing kindness of a parent confiding funds to the disposal of a son who is incompetent to business. The funds lie idle, or are injudiciously employed, the father is disappointed in his expecta- tions and wishes, wounded in his affections, and mortified in his' pride, and the son becomes a bankrupt. Can a preceptor teach a child to walk, a boy to dance, or a youth to fence, by merely walking, dancing, and fencing in their presence We know that he cannot. He must induce them, under his superintendence, to walk, dance, and fence them- selves; otherwise his instructions will be unavailing, and his pupils will disgrace him by their awkward- ness and ignorance. And no less unavailing are the labors of the preceptor in knowledge, who limits his instructions to the mere discharging into the intellects of his pupils the contents of his own, or of such text-books as he may place in their hands, and expound to them in his lectures. He that would train successfully and to the highest effect the intellects of youth, must proceed 67 DISCOURSE: .precisely as if he were training their muscles. He must teach them self-dependent action; to observe, judge, and reason for themselves; to move intel- lectually without his aid, not only in collecting judiciously the materials of knowledge, but in exercising their higher faculties on such materials as they already possess, his chief province being, vigilantly and faithfully to aid them ill the process. It was, perhaps, as already intimated, in this department of instruction, that Dr Holley was most strikingly judicious and able, and in the highest degree successful. Leaving to others the humbler and less useful task of forming mere scholars, his was the prouder and nobler ambition to make philosophers and men of business- characters competent to the advancement of knowledge, and the management of high affairs- prepared to shine alike in any sphere of activity and distinction, whether in medical, forensic, or clerical life; or to become, at option, ministers of nature, or ministers of state. Nor was the deceased less successful in forming the morals and manners of his pupils. While he enriched them in knowledge, he zealously culti- vated in them pure and high-toned principles of rectitude and honor; and, as far as precept and example might avail, and the peculiarities of a college life would admit, imparted to them the air and polish of gentlemen. For the better and more certain accomplishment of these purposes, 68 DISCOURSE. he delivered in this Chapel, one or two courses of popular lectures on morals and manners, which, being open to public attendance, were, in a high degree, delightful and instructive, not merely to the pupils of the institution, but to the youth of the place, and even to many of riper years. Notwithstanding the imputation of laxity and a disregard of strict morality, thrown on his govern- ment, by those who were hostile to him, a body of young men more highly decorous and exem- plary in their deportment, than the pupils of Transylvania, was not to be found in any similar institution in the United States. And since their departure from under the auspices of their Alma Mater, bearing along with them her honors and her blessing, they have so deported themselves, both morally and intellectually, as to redeem, very abundantly, the pledge that was offered by their college lives. The entire charge, therefore, was a violation of truth, deliberately perpetrated for nefarious purposes, and worthy, in all respects, of the profligate spirits that conceived it in malice, and the venom-dripping tongues that uttered it in slander. Under Dr Holley's training of her pupils, administration of her government, and general superintendence of her interests, Transylvania rose, as if by enchantment, from a low and feeble condition, to a standing peculiarly elevated and The Chapel in Transylvania University edifice. 69 DISCOURSE. honorable. Search, throughout the world, the records of institutions for the instruction of youth, and you will not, except perhaps under the munifi- cence and power of a royal treasury, and the patronage of a kingdom, find a single instance of a growth so rapid, and success so triumphant. Nor even under circumstances genial and power- fully fostering as those, is any seat of learning at present recollected, whose early career was so brilliantly prosperous. Notwithstanding the mu- nificency of its pecuniary benefactions from the State, the strength and reputation conferred on it by five accomplished European professors, and the weight and imposing eclat it has derived from the names of Jefferson and Madison, as its rectors, and of Monroe and other distinguished personages as visiters and counsellors, the course of the University of Virginia has been much less resplendent. In the year 1818, Transylvania was but a gram- mar school, composed of a few boys acquiring the elements of classical learning, without any of the incentives of lofty ambition, to enamour them of distinction, and urge them to excel. But the magician came, and in 1823, 1824, and 1825, it was a proud university, consisting of three depart- ments, and containing four hundred pupils, amply instructed in what most essentially pertains to scholarship, profession, and general science, and burning with the ambition of honorable attain- 70 DISCOURSE. ment and intellectual renown. Nor will the most envious and embittered of his enemies deny, that, in this career of advancement, so unprecedented and lustrous, the genius of Holley was the primi- tive agent. What though he did -not immediately superin- tend and personally administer the professional departments of medicine and law He was the master spirit that called them into existence, and an able and faithful counsellor and auxiliary in their administration by others. Nor was this all. His ardor and enthusiasm were felt by their pro- fessors, to whose energies he was instrumental in giving augmented tone and vigor, whose hopes and prospects he sustained and brightened, by his irrepressible enterprise and confident anticipa- tions, and whose reputations derived additional lustre from the splendors of his. Shall I be told that Transylvania is now shorn of her radiance, and that her decline is to be at- tributed to the faults of the deceased That the glories of her morning are dimmed, not a little, by a passing cloud, is a melancholy truth which must not be denied, and cannot be concealed. Nor, as relates to her present enfee- bled condition, will candor permit me to exon- erate from blame her late illustrious and lamented President. Like other mortals, he was the heir of imperfections, and, therefore, subject to faults. But, as regards the case in question, even his very 71 DISCOURSE. failings arose from the prodigality with which nature had endowed him-from an excess of those attributes, which, existing in moderation, are ele- vated excellencies-virtues of the manliest charac- ter, which, urging to high and daring emprises our immortal ancestors, contributed essentially to our existence as a nation-so essentially, that, with- out them, that- existence would never have been established. I Had President Holley been less independent in spirit, less firm and resolute in purpose, and less frank and intrepid in disclosing his sentiments, he would have been more fortunate, and Transyl- vania more prosperous. But for those failings, which, at worst, are nothing but errors of judg- ment, and which justice therefore forbids us to designate by a harsher term, it is altogether pro- bable that the late dispensation of Heaven would have been averted, this university still in its glory, and our departed friend flourishing in the midst of us, as he once was, in the pomp of his talents and the splendor of his fame, the delight of his associates, the idol of his pupils, and the legiti- mate pride and boast of the community. Although no one deplores more sincerely than myself, his melancholy failure, in this place, to at- tain the object of his laudable ambition, by be- coming the father of literature and science in the West, and rearing to his renown, in this institu- tion, a monument more durable than marble or 72 DISCOURSE. bronze, yet truth compels me to record it as an instructive example, and a solemn warning of the fate that awaits the most munificent endowments, and the highest competencies, where a becoming deference to public sentiment is unyieldingly with- held. For to that unyieldingness, carried to ex- cess, is to be attributed, in the present instance, not a little of the catastrophe, which both we our, selves, and the community at large so fervently lament. But if, under the administration of Dr Holley, Transylvania did decline from the lofty pinnacle of usefulness and renown, to which his genius and exertions had raised her, the fault was far from being exclusively his own. On the contrary, the portion of it rightfully chargeable to him, was comparatively small. If, as connected with the lamentable reverse she has experienced, some of his measures must be denominated unwise, the conduct of others must be pronounced unholy. If he had his excesses, which moderation would have changed to excellencies, and which liberality in- vokes us to remember with indulgence, those who, from motives of envy and unprovoked ven- geance, conspired to overwhelm, in one common ruin, both him and the institution over which he presided, were blackened by faults and soiled by impurities, not to apply to them more condemna- tory terms, which nothing earthly can justify; and which, though mercy, in its fulness,:may forgive, 10 d- 73 DISCOURSE. even charity denounces, and nothing but a com- promise with dishonor can excuse. For, that a deadly conspiracy was formed, not only against him, but against Transylvania, as the pride of his genius and the child of his affections, is known to be true. That falsehood, defamation, and treach- ery were employed, by that conspiracy, as worthy instruments for the perpetration of its purposes, is equally true. Nor is it less so, that the institution owes its present humbled fortunes to the machina- tions of the conspirators, and the profligacy of their minions, infinitely more than to any immediate in- fluence of the indiscretions of the President. But I must drop the subject, lest the abhorrence with which f view it should so far prevail, as to betray me into expressions unsuitable to the occasion. Were I to paint it in the full depth of the darkness that belongs to it, and give to it all the revolting deformity which is so peculiarly its own, the labor would not avail me. It could neither extinguish the spirit of envy, jealousy, and hatred, which conspired to destroy; nor remedy the desolation it contributed to produce. Nor do I need its blackness to serve as a foil to brighten the merits and fame of the deceased. Like an electron per se, he shone with an inherent lustre, indepen- dently of the contrast of surrounding objects. To utter these remarks has been as painful to me-I trust much more so, than it has been to any of you to listen to them. It is not my purpose 74 DISCOURSE. to wound or to offend any individual who honors me with his attention. Nor do I speak with an immediate reference to any person, sect, or de- nomination, whether present or absent. I allude to those, and to those only, whose consciousness tells them, and whose conduct proved, that they were enemies to Transylvania, and to him, who, for a time, so brilliantly and successfully guided its fortunes. Should such individuals, whoever they may be, recognise, in their own image, the correctness of this representation, and agonize beneath the pressure of truth, their sufferings will be the result, not of my expressions, but of a sober retrospect of their own misdeeds. On such an occasion, neither malice, hatred, nor any other unhallowed affection, can rankle in my bosom or empoison my words. Feelings so unsuitable, because so unworthy of the spirit of him I commemorate, would degrade and dishonor me in my own estimation, as deeply and irretriev- ably as they could in yours. But a'solemn sense of duty to the tomb demands of me the truth. As far as my humble abilities may avail, the fame of the deceased must not suffer in my report of him. At every hazard it shall be honestly maintained. What I have ,spoken, therefore, I have spoken. The respon- sibility is my own, and I fearlessly encounter it. In his capacity as a man, I have already so far spoken of Dr Holley, as to set forth, as amply as 75 DISCOURSE. the limits of this address will admit, the readiness, strength, and splendor of his talents, which, in any sphere of any intellectual life, would have ensured to him renown. Were i to attempt, in miniature, a sketch of his intellect, I would say, that its predominant features consisted in a boldness to encounter the most diffi- cult enterprises, a capacity to acquire knowledge with unwonted rapidity and retain it with a cor- responding degree of tenacity, a power to wield and apply it to its uses with wonderful prompti- tude, force, and splendor, and a strong propensity to great temporary efforts, with an equal antipathy to persevering toil. With feelings as ardent as a Bolingbroke or a Mirabeau, when fairly engaged in a task that was pleasing to him, he clung to it, until finished, with unremitting assiduity, enthusiastic devotion, and an undiverted concentration of all his faculties. Hence arose the greater certainty of his success, and the unrivalled celerity of his progress in accomplishing it. On knowledge thus attained he dwelt with steadiness, carefully analyzing it, viewing it in all its connexions and relations, and making it repeatedly a topic of conversation, and even of soliloquy, until it was completely assimilated to his intellect, and had become, in its adhesion to it, so settled and confirmed, that he had a perfect command of it, and the union was indissoluble. 76 If he failed, at times, in sober judgment, it was owing to the absorbing or distracting influence of awakened feeling, and not to any want of perspi- cacity in his perceptive, or strength and clearness in his reasoning faculties-not to any defect in the power to judge, but to some failure or obliquity in the exercise of it. In his calculations, as to future achievements and anticipated events, especially if high enjoyment was associated with them, he was not unfrequently misled by the fair but fragile creations of hope, which constituted a predominant sentiment of his intellect. But although, like a phantom-fire in his path, that cheering faculty did occasionally beguile and mislead him, it did not fail to bestow on him, in return, an ample measure of compensating benefit. It maintained in him, in a high degree, that Ielas- ticity of spirit and sunshine of the soul, which con- stitute the choicest cofidition of existence, under the influence of which, success, in every enter- prise, seems certain, fame is seen in waiting, friendships are deemed steady, love unchanging, alid all creation is bright and beamy to the eye, and in delightful harmony with the other senses; but without which life is nothing but gloom and bitterness-the vision of a hypochondriac, or the dream of an epicure, with an incubus on his bosom. 77 DISCOURSE . DISCOURSE. To the foregoing intellectual characteristics of the deceased, may be justly added, his wonderful powers to arouse, delight, and instruct, in conver- sation. In this mode of intercourse he was alike opulent in instruction, in a twofold point of view- the knowledge he communicated, and the trains of thought he was instrumental in awakening. When thus engaged, the workings of his intellect were irresistibly contagious, and excited to imita- tive and productive action, the intellects of all who were within the compass of his voice. No one could be dull or inattentive in his presence. Nor was it possible to be long in his company, with- out receiving something to remember and prize. Most truly may I say of him, as Johnson did of Burke, that you could not stop with him even a few minutes under a shed, as a protection from a shower of rain, without feeling that you were in contact with a great man. So powerful is the magic of a master spirit, and so certainly does it excite in others an earnest, though involuntary effort at imitation. Nor were the texture and tone of his moral in- ferior to those of his intellectual faculties. In all matters of private concern, and of busi- ness- generally, he was exemplary in his conduct- scrupulously just and accurate and honorable; It is understood to be reported by some, and believed, perhaps, by more, that President Holley left debts behind him in the State of Kentucky.-The report is unfounded. He paid, to the last cent, every 78 DISCOURSE. in those of charity and public spirit, benevolent, liberal, and enterprising. In the performance of his official duties, whether professional or academical, he was conscientiously and inflexibly faithful and exact. He suffered noth- ing to interrupt him in the due execution of trusts committed to him, by individuals, public bodies, or the community at large. No man ever stood more contemptuously aloof from the littlenesses and meanness of false pro- fession, hypocrisy, and deceit. He scorned all trickery, cant, and knavishness, as well in religious as in secular affairs. To no subtle artifices, dis- honorable compromises, or petty expedients of any description, did he ever descend in quest of popularity. Nor did he stand in need of their pro- tection or their aid. Possessing within himself an abundance of powers for the effectuation of his purposes, he held it not only dishonest, but hu- miliating and self-degrading to manifest a spurious pretension to more. The governing maxim and rule of his life was, '0 give me honest fame, or give me none!' 'Let me succeed in honorable enterprises by hon- orable means, or let me fail! Success by intrigue debt he contracted in the West. So conscientious was he on this topic, that having forgotten a small demand which a citizen of Lexing- ton had on him, he remitted from Louisville, unasked, the money to settle it, when on his way to New Orleans. 79 DISCOURSE. or any kind of unfairness, is worse than failure. It is moral delinquency.' To pretend to what we have not, and to prac- tise deception for the attainment of our ends, is an avowal of our deficiency. For all affectation, deception, and hypocrisy, are but feigned and miserable substitutes for real and valuable quali- ties. He, therefore, who is conscious of posses- sing the latter, feels himself above the necessity of the former. The truly opulent never borrow; much less do they stoop to chaffer or purloin. Conscious of his standing, and above all decep- tion for the purpose of maintaining it, our depart- ed President was not only free from intrigue him- self, but from all undue suspicion of it in others. To envy and jealousy he was no less a stranger. As a friend, therefore, he was manly, confiding, and steady; and frank, high-minded, and liberal, as a companion. Nor were his enmities, if awak- ened, less uniformly characterised by openness and candor. When roused by injury, or meditated insult, al- though his resentments were fiery, they were nei- ther lasting nor vindictive. The lightning might flash, and the bolt be given to fly, at times with bitter and galling effect; but, in a moment after- wards, all was peaceful and serene as before. The angry cloud which had gathered and burst at the same instant, never lingered sullenly on his brow. Nor did hatred or malice find access to his soul. So DISCOURSE. The region of feeling in which he delighted to dwell, was far above such ignominious passions. The sphere of magnanimity, clemency, and manly forbearance, was his chosen abode. Or, if he did hate, it was but the pointing of virtuous indigna- tion against immorality and crime. He never pur- sued a foe from selfish motives; nor for the per- sonal gratification of doing him an injury. If he pursued him at all, it was from considerations con- nected with other individuals, or the community at large. He practised the virtue of forgetting offences and forgiving injuries, in a degree infinitely above any manifestation of it made by those who accus- ed him of disaffection toward the christian reli- gion. Yet a spirit of forgiveness, and a disposi- tion to bury offences, are ranked with the choicest of christian graces. While his foes assailed him with clamorous defamation and unrelenting vengeance, he main- tained, in relation to them, a dignified silence, or spoke of them ' more in pity than in anger.' He cherished and practised toward them, benevolence and charity; they toward him, inexorable malevo- lence in all its modifications. He tolerated them, even in their calumny and persecution; they were intolerant toward him, while peacefully engaged in his high vocation, dispensing beneficence to the community and themselves. Thus did he, in the genuine spirit of Christianity, not only extend to 11 81 DISCOURSE. them the peaceful olive branch, but returned them good for evil; while they, deliberately and inflexi- bly resolved on his ruin, persisted in outrage, and, in a spirit which Christianity and virtue condemn, iniquitously repaid him with evil for good. Yet, in their own estimation and vainglorious preten- sions, they were saints on earth-a portion of the legitimate 'Christian community,' elected as the favorite children of mercy; while he was a repro- bate and an outcast from grace. Theirs was the consecrated privilege to empty on him the vials of their wrath, while he was pouring out the riches of his intellect, for the instruction and accomplish- ment of the youth of the West. His religion was practical, and operative on character. It consisted chiefly in sentiment, which prompted to works of justice and beneficence; while theirs was little else than a compound of doctrines and opinions, an adherence to which was their test of holiness and their earnest of sal- vation. On the charities of the heart it had no kindly influence, nor was it, in practice, a foun- tain of good works. To the truth of this, their persecution of him abundantly testified. In its benevolent spirit and catholic scope, his religion embraced the entire family of man, while theirs was limited to the adopters and advocates of par- ticular creeds. But this hasty contrast must be brought to a close. 82 DISCOURSE. Without meaning to pass judgment, or even offer an opinion, on the comparative merits of the religion of Dr Holley, and that of his persecutors, I have simply sketched this succinct view of them, that others may examine and judge for themselves. On which side lie, as relates to the parties, the highest magnanimity, amiability of disposition, and attractiveness of deportment, and on which the temper best adapted to cherish 'peace and har- mony and good will among men,' no one will find it difficult to decide. On this subject I shall only add, that while the foes of the deceased were ardent in their wishes and unremitting in their endeavours to swell, to the utmost, the number of their adherents, he was never, while President of this university, an active propagandist of any peculiar theological creed. In his academical teachings, he descanted occa- sionally, as his topic required, on the religion of nature, and the general principles recognised as true by the whole christian world, and nothing more. That he ever made or meditated an effort to sully, by heresy, the orthodox purity of his college classes, is not true. The charge, like most others that were preferred against him, was a calumny as dark as malice could render it. It was fakri- cated by his enemies, as a means of destruction, while the easy credulity and tattle of some, and the ever-vigilant and active malignity of others, 83 DISCOURSE. gave it a currency and force, that rendered it an instrument of no ordinary power, in the accom- plishment of its object. Nor did he ever, although slanderously charged with it, introduce into his academical instructions, a single discussion on the irritating party-politics of the day. When he spoke on politics, it was only as a branch of the philosophy of man, con- sidered in a moral and intellectual capacity, and living under a regulated form of government; and then, as his duty and responsibilities demanded, he confined himself exclusively to general prin- ciples. In his disquisitions on constitutional law, in the law department of the university, his course was equally philosophical and fair; and his sentiments characterized by the same liberality. Another of the numerous reports circulated against the correctness of the creed of Dr Holley, was, that he was a materialist, and therefore a disbeliever in the immortality of the soul. This again was deliberate slander. Dr Holley was no materialist. And if he had been, that alone would not have rendered him necessarily a disbeliever in the soul's immortality. Matter, in the abstract, is as immortal as spirit. Nothing but the power that created both can destroy either; and that can destroy both with equal facility. Nor can any one assign a shadow of reason, why the Deity might not have formed of matter, 84 DISCOURSE. as readily and worthily as of anything else, the thinking and immortal principle of man. It has even been contended by some of the most pious and enlightened of men, that to have done so, would seem most consistent with the uniform simplicity of all his operations-with his achieve- ment of everything by the least possible complexity of means. But be this as it may, to contend that he could not thus have formed the human soul, would be to limit his power; to allege that he ought not, would be presumptuously to interfere with his counsels and his pleasure; and to assert that he has not, would be an assumption of know- ledge which pertains not to man. Of one truth we may feel assured, that he has formed the soul of the substance most suitable to its faculties and destinies; and it belongs not to us dogmatically to decide, whether that substance be matter or spirit. Some contend that there is a revolting grossness connected with the idea of the materiality of the soul. This is a mistake. The grossness is not in the idea; but in the crude and erroneous concep- tion of those by whom it is formed. It is to compositions of matter alone that impurity and coarseness can attach. And, whether it be mate- rial or immaterial, no one imagines the soul to be compound. Simple matter is as pure, and, for aught man knows to the contrary, as refined in its nature, as spirit-a sunbeam as much so as an angel of light. 85 DISCOURSE. In the most extensive signification of the term, Dr Holley was a professed immortalist. He be- lieved in the immortality of the created universe. He did not believe that even an atom had been called into existence to be again annihilated. He saw no reason why, at any future period, matter would be less necessary in the economy of crea- tion than it is at present. Nor can any such reason be rendered by man. Nor is the actual destruction of matter predicted in scripture, what- ever may be said of its future mutations. Whether we assume, as the ground of our opinion, the disclosures of written revelation, or the lights of nature, we are compelled to believe, that, in the administration of the government of the universe, created spirit and created matter are alike essential. It is as rational, therefore, to be- lieve in the meditated annihilation of the one, as of the other. To believe in the annihilation of either, is the dream of a visionary, unsupported by a single fact, or even the slightest probability. Changes in compound bodies are hourly occur- ring, and will continue to occur. Birth and death, with all the alterations that the individual expe- riences from the one to the other; the succession of one generation to another, and of one condition of society to another; the material phenomena characteristic of spring and summer and autumn and winter; the multiplied appearances denomi- nated meteorological, and the magnificent move- 86 DISCOURSE. ments of the heavenly bodies, which are nothing but mere mutations of being-all these will go on, as at present; but absolute annihilation is an idle conception that will never be realized. The poet may interweave it in a web of fiction, and the frenzied zealot embrace it as a truth; but the philosophical Christian will exclude it from his creed. To assert of the Deity, that for his own pleasure alone he creates, and for his own pleasure and glory destroys, without any regard to the beings created, is to represent him as arbitrary and selfish, capricious and unstable, in a degree that would be derogatory to the character of man-as acting from motives of pastime and wantonness, without system or object or premeditated plan. Such are not the schemes of creative wisdom. They are not mutable, because by change they could not be amended. In them, as in their Author, there is neither ' variableness nor shadow of turning.' They were matured by omniscience in the counsels of eternity; they were necessary, or they would not have been carried into effect; no experience will find them defective, or sus- ceptible of amelioration; and no event is referred to in prophecy, or can be conceived of by man, that will either mar them or render them useless. There is strong ground to believe, therefore, that they will be neither altered nor destroyed; but, in stability and duration, will rival eternity. 87 DISCOURSE. Constitutionally Dr Holley was most acutely alive to the beauties of nature, and all the splen- did productions of art. On few individuals has there ever been bestowed so keen a relish for this elegant and inexhaustible source of enjoyment. Nor had he failed to cultivate, with zeal and dis- tinguished success, his native susceptibility, which served him as a fountain of such exquisite delight. On beauty of every description he gazed with feelings of high-toned rapture; and turned from what was unsightly, with an offended sensibility bordering on pain. Hence arose the refinement and peculiar excellencies of his taste as an ama- teur, and the well known correctness of his judg- ment as a critic. Although not himself a frequent or successful suitor in the bowers of the Muses-for he rarely attempted the witcheries of song, and never touched, with deep effect, ' the minstrel's bold and high-strung lyre '-he, notwithstanding, looked on creation with the frenzied eye, and felt her charms with all the thrilling ecstasy of the poet. As relates in particular to the sublime and beau- tiful, and whatever is characterized by intensity and strength, so indissolubly were the feelings of poetry interwoven in his nature, that they consti- tuted a part of it. Where others were only grati- fied, he was delighted; and what gave delight to them, was rapture to him. Though not an enfee- bled aspen sensitive, that trembles and shrinks at 88 DISCOURSE. the approach of the breeze, or ' dies of a rose in aromatic pain,' he possessed, perhaps, as ample an endowment of manly sensibility, as was ever bestowed on an individual of our race. In him the azure of the heavens by day, bound- less in extent, and vying in purity with ' the Spirit that made it,' and the glories of their star-fretted canopy by night; the freshened resplendence of the morning sun, as he rises rejoicing from the lap of ocean, and the tempered radiance of his eve- ning orb, as it drops for repose into the crimson wave, after the toils of a day of brightness; the cloud-piercing mountain with its fantastical drape- ry, its frowning precipices, and its piles of granite; the illimitable ocean, whether swept by a tempest or slumbering in a calm, in either case a mighty and impressive representation of the attributes of omnipotency and boundless extent; the wide- spreading prairie, to the wondering eye alike interminable, with its gorgeous and undulating sea of vegetation, reposing in solitude, or peace- fully or tumultuously thronged with animals, whose myriads seem to compass infinity; the convulsions of the earthquake, spreading terror in its path, and reducing to a waste of indiscriminate ruin the productions of nature and the monuments of art; the deep entangled forest, wrapt in gloom and primeval silence, except when resounding to the hunter's rifle, the Indian's war-whoop, or the monster's howl; the bursting thunder-cloud, riving 12 89 0 DISCOURSE. alike, by its bolt of fire, the knotted oak and the rock of adamant; the mighty river, the roaring cataract, and the wild and desolating sweep of the tornado-objects stupendous and magnificent like these, produced in him those intense and high- wrought emotions of the sublime, a faithful de- scription of which would be received by the insensitive as a fiction of romance. With sensibility equally awakened, and corres- ponding emotions equally vivid, did he enjoy his 'soul's home,' when placed in the midst of softer and more soothing scenes, rich in the humbler beauties of nature; the sequestered bower, erected and decorated by the hand of taste, whether sil- vered by moonlight, or fanned by breezes bearing on their bosom the virgin freshness and fragrance of morning; the emerald lawn, spangled with flowers wantonly scattered from the lap of spring; the chrystal rivulet, glittering in the sunbeams as it smoothly winds within its grassy banks, or breaks in faint and tranquillizing murmurs over its variegated pebbles, which the lapse of its waters through indefinite ages has polished into lustre; the leafy grove, concealed in its own secluded loneliness, or enlivened by the sportings of the feathered tribes, and vocal to the thrilling music of their loves; the luxuriant meadow, gemmed with the early dew-drop, where flocks and herds enjoy their frolic and partake their food; and the checkered prospect of the sunny hill-top and the 90 DISCOURSE. shaded vale-such were the sources of his minor delights, in the midst of which he loved to linger with a kindred fondness, which, if faithfully pic- tured, would seem to the intellect of ' grosser mould,' a 'tale of fancy, or a poet's dream.' But to him it was a living and ever active reality, to which his nature ministered, and which clung to him through life as an attribute of his soul. Nor was he less enamoured of all that is poetic in human nature, than of that which the earth, the ocean, and the heavens unfold to us. And, notwithstanding the revolting pictures of it, which, in their cankered imaginations, complainers and canters make it their glory to draw, and the dismal denunciations which they thunder forth against it, there is much in human nature that is not only delightfully, but intensely poetic. The sportive innocency and irrepressible delights of infancy; the sprightliness and blooming gaiety, the buoyant hopes and fresh desires of youth, ere yet neglect or disappointment, misfortune or care has assailed and withered them; the first emotions of virtuous love, which soothe with visions of ineffable felicity the soul of the possessor, and, 'in witching fancy,' deck, with all that is most excellent, rare, and attractive, whether, in earth or heaven, its chosen object; the warm and wide- spreading affections and desires of ripened life, that encompass in their scope the existing family of man, and throwing their longings into future 91 DISCOURSE. years, and other anticipated conditions of being, give to us even here, 'upon this bank and shoal of time,' an existence that reaches beyond the grave; the all-subduing beauty and loveliness of woman, composed of the choicest and most en- chanting attributes-the elegance of her form and the delicacy and chastened richness of her complexion, the grace and airy lightness of her movements, the sprightliness and vivacity of her etherial spirit, the lustre of her eye, whether brightened by pleasure or impearled by a tear, the fascination of her smile, the retiring blush of her virgin purity, the devotedness and constancy of her friendship, the generous and absorbing confi- dence of her love, her conjugal tenderness and fidelity, the endearing and indescribable affections and attentions, which none but a mother can expe- rience and bestow, which beam from her counte- nance with such mellowed radiance, and proclaim her the world's most perfect model of disinterested attachment, and duty instinctively and faithfully performed; the fond and untiring vigilance with which she hangs over the pillow of affliction, ministers in kindness to the troubled spirit, cools and calms the burning temples, soothes to slumber the aching brow, and then retires to weep unseen, and pour forth the balmy incense of her prayers for the relief of the sufferer; and evti her noble and undaunted darings, when dangers environ the objects of her love-these are the genuine mate- 92 DISCOURSE. rials of poetry, these are the atributes of human nature, and of these was the deceased enthusias- tically enamoured. Nor of the higher and bolder manifestations of man was he a less ardent and devoted admirer. The fearful workings of the tragic passions, convulsing the soul with the throes of an earth- quake, or breaking forth with the ruinous burst of the volcano; the lofty darings of the youthful hero, who rushes from the arms of affection and beauty to battle and carnage, and, regardless of danger, suffering, and death, surrenders up his life in exchange for glory; the mighty in genius, at one time ruling and calming the turbulence of free minds by the powers of persuasion, stirring them to frenzy by his maddening eloquence, or, by the omnipotency of argument, forcing convic- tion on a listening senate-at another, exploring the heavens in quest of new and remoter worlds, or profoundly scanning and settling the principles and laws of motion of those already familiar to astronomy-or again, in the inspired character of the poet, searching the deep fountains of the hu- man heart, and the dark recesses of the human soul, for means to subdue by sympathy, to thrill with ecstasy, or appal with terror; sweeping in thought through earth and heaven, even to the footstool of Deity himself, to exalt imagination by celestial scenery, and hallow it by celestial influ- ence; plunging into the fiery abode of the infernals, 93 DISCOURSE. to consummate the conception of misery and wo, by a survey of the fearfulness of the place, and returning fraught with the choicest materials, to weave a fabric of imperishable song;-nor must I forget the still more magnificent spectacle of a pa- triot hero, striking, with his own single arm, as the commissioned and avenging minister of Heaven, a daring usurper, or a blood-stained tyrant from his seat of power, or, placed in command of a patriot army, pouring into its masses his own mighty and invincible spirit, wielding it to his purposes by the potency of his genius, and, in defencse of his country and human rights, gloriously leading ifto victory or death;-these are the objects of true intellectual and moral sublimity, the most lofty and resplendent materials of the poetry of man, and with these was the deceased very perfectly familiar, and as deeply, perhaps, susceptible of the emotions corresponding to them, as comports with the constitution of human nature. Did the occasion permit me to descend to a detail of those minor elegancies, which at once adorn and dignify our nature, and constitute the charm of polished society, truth would not fail t sanction the declaration, that, as already inti- mated, in these the deceased was abundantly accomplished. Such, in fact, was the strength of his passion for honorable distinction, and so consummate the confederacy of his powers for the attainment of 94 DISCOURSE. it, that in whatever walk of the drama of life he might have acted his part, he would have been secure of elevation, if not of preeminence. Fashioned in a mould so peculiarly felicitous, and so rarely and exuberantly endowed by nature, had Heaven, in its pleasure, consigned him to the walks of common rural life, or ushered him, as a hunter, into the wilds of the West, even there, he would have been, in the former case, a chosen leader in labor and sport, and, in the latter, a recognised Nimrod of the forest. So true to nature, and so characteristic of genius united to ambition, are the lines of the poet;- 'Great Julius, on the mountains bred, A flock, perhaps, or herd had led; He that subdued the world had been But the best wrestler on the green.' As if destined by nature to be, in some degree, marked and distinguished in all things, and assimi- - lated in nothing to ' living clods of coarser mould,' even the circumstances of the sickness, death, and burial of Dr Holley, being singular, and striking, have attracted deservedly much more than ordi- nary attention, and awakened more than ordinary sympathy. He sickened during the darkness and roar of a tempest as fierce as the delirium by which his great intellect was destined to be shattered, and which shook, for a time, surrounding nature with See Appendix, note G. 95 DISCOURSE. a tumult as appalling, as the fearful convulsions amidst which he expired. And he died, after a short illness, at sea, in the meridian of life, remote from medical aid, and from all connexions and intimate friends that might have soothed his sufferings and ministered to his wants; was at- tended in his sickness only by strangers, who were destitute alike of skill and means to afford him relief, or even contribute to his comfort, and his remains were committed to the waves, in the Gulf of Mexico, one of the most remarkable and cele- brated bodies 'of water on earth. To deepen still more the sombre shades of the melancholy picture, all this happened at a conjuncture when offers were held out to him and prospects unfolded, not only in the highest degree flattering, in an intellectual point of view, and which would have further contributed to the brightening of his fame, but by which he might have become easy and affluent in fortune. And the value to him of such prospects is per- fectly undertood, and can be duly appreciated by his acquaintance and friends. For it is well known to them, that, owing to the liberality of his chari- table benefactions, his munificent hospitalities, and his general disregard of wealth, his intellectual riches and ample reputation were his only posses- sions; and that, like too many others of the bright but improvident sons of genius, he had made no competent pecuniary provision for any of the adverse contingencies of life. 96 1)ISCOURSE. But mournful, in the aggregate, as this visitation is, were I curiously to analyze it, giving to each of its constituent parts the consideration that belongs to it, I would say, that, to whatever extent evil may predominate in the entire mixture, it is not a compound of unqualified evils. True, the world has lost in it one of its rare and highly gifted inhabitants, science and letters an accomplished son, a zealous sustainer and a powerful promoter, education a devoted patron and an efficient minister, society one of its choicest favorites and most distinguished ornaments, and his immediate friends and family all that those terms of endearing relation imply, enhanced and hallowed by the abundance of amiable and attrac- tive qualities, that were united to the naore exalted excellencies of the deceased. Still further to augment the collective loss, almost the entire intellectual opulence of Dr Holley is, with his corporeal relics, ' in the deep bosom of the ocean buried.' For, of all his vigorous and glowing thoughts, his rich conceptions,. and his brilliant fancies, all his refined and lofty philosophi- cal disquisitions, and the famed discourses, wheth- er theological, academical, or popular, that were breathed in soul-subduing melody, or rolled forth in awakening thunders from his lips, he has left but little behind him either in manuscript or print. Like a gifted, but hapless son of Helicon, whose misfortunes find a place in classical story, instead 13 97 DISCOURSE. of imprinting them on enduring tablets, he com- mitted indiscreetly his intellectual stores to the keeping of Echo, who, now that he gratifies and enriches her no longer, has proved faithless to her trust, and refuses to render back the treasures she received. Of him may it be said, with more literal truth than of almost any other personage so abundant in talent, attainment, and scholarship, that he has ' ceased from his labors, and his works have fol- lowed him.' Much as he aided, by his oral exertions, to grace and decorate the field of intellect, it is matter of deep and lasting regret, that, by the productions of his pen, he contributed but little to extend or enrich it. Yet had he labored, as an author, in proportion to the munificency of his native endowments, he would have been one of the most distinguished writers of the age-alike in richness and profundity, brilliancy and strength. Then might the abundant eloquence of his pen have instructed and charmed an admiring posteri- ty, as that of his lips did his cotemporaries who heard it. Then might it have been aptly asserted of his productions, in the terms of the Great Unknown, commemorative of the magic of the highest specimens of British eloquence, 'Spells of such force no wizard grave E'er framed in dark Thessalian cave, Though this could drain the ocean dry, And force the planets from the sky.' 98 DISCOURSE. But, in the graphical language of the same writer, 'These spells are spent, and, spent with these, The wine of life is on the lees. Genius, and taste, and talent sleep, For ever tombed beneath the deep.' But if the death of our departed friend was sudden, produced by a disease of fiery character and overwhelming force, which deadened sensi- bility, maddened the brain, and dried up, in a short time, the fountain of existence, he escaped by it the spirit-withering feebleness, the slow-con- suming anguish of ' hope deferred,' and the many other aggravated sufferings of protracted illness. He was gratified, moreover, in a favorite wish, which, in the fulness of health, he had often expressed, that he might not die of a lingering disease. If, from the exalted meridian of his career, un- obscured by clouds, and unshorn, by decline, of a beam of his radiance, he dropt, like the tropical sun, into the waves, he was exempted, by that, from the corporeal infirmities, and intellectual debilities and dimnesses, which constitute the concomitants and the miseries of age. 'And now his race of glory run, His was the eve of tropic sun; No pale gradations quench his ray, No twilight dews his warmth allay; With disk like battle-target red, lie rushes to his ocean-bed, Dies the wide waves with ruddy light, Then sinks at once-and all is night.' 99 DISCOURSE. If his body was committed to the deep, by the hands of hardy and honest-hearted mariners, who honored it, as it descended, by the libation of their tears, and the rites of their manly and cordial ' Farewell! ' his funeral was not profaned by the mock-lamentations, and canting hypocrisies of those who had been his enemies and calumniators in life. Nor can his grave be violated by the exulting gaze, or muttered triumphs of wretches, who, since his death, have ignobly and vindictively insulted his memory. What though his friends were denied the gratifi- cation of watching his pillow, and mitigating the severity of his sufferings while living, the sad yet soothing privilege of mingling their sorrows and sympathies around his herse, and the melancholy solace of ministering to him the rites and solem- nities of the tomb-What, I say, though to his friends and connexions was denied the boon of rendering to the illustrious dead these tributes and tokens of their affection and esteem Not- withstanding the unfavorableness of the occasion for paying them, as far as they could be paid, those mournful manifestations of sympathy and regard were neither churlishly withheld, nor heart- lessly administered, by the voyagers whom chance had made his companions at sea; for, of him it was true, without any poetical license of expression, that he was By strangers honored, and by strangers niourned.' 100 DISCOURSE. And, though man had been silent, the rolling surf, as it broke over the reef near which he was deposited, would have resounded to him, as it did, a deep and solemn requiem, which will never cease to salute the ear of the passing mariner, while the winds shall continue to waft him, and the ocean be his home. And, amidst the roar of the mighty waters, his repose will be as peaceful, as if he slept under fretted marble, or the grassy sod, silently wept on by the dews of evening, and soothed by the vespers of the softened breeze. Were I inclined to indulge in poetical vision, and decorate my subject with the drapery of fiction, readily might I fancy to myself, and pic- ture forth to you, a choir of the fairest and most exquisite vocalists of the ocean, chanting to their favorite the following elegy. 'Farewell! be it ours to embellish thy pillow With everything beauteous that grows in the deep; Each flower of the rock, and each gem of the billow Shall sweeten thy bed, and illumine thy sleep. Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept; With many a shell, in whose hollow-wreathed chamber, We, daughters of ocean, by moonlight have slept. We '11 dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling, And plant all the rosiest stems at thy head; We '11 seek where the sands are most precious and sparkling, And gather their dust to strew over thy head. Farewell! farewell! until pity's emotion Is extinct in the hearts of the fair and the brave, They '11 weep for their favorite who died on this ocean, The stranger who peacefully sleeps in this wave.' 101 DISCOURSE. But brilliant and attractive as is my theme, and far as it is from being exhausted of its opulency, I must no longer resist the pressing admonitions of time and circumstance to close this Discourse. But indulge me first in adding, that as long as the Tortugas, in the midst of which the blue waters opened to receive his remains, shall continue to swell above the surrounding billows, they will serve as a monument to draw forth from voyagers of refined sensibility, and from the generous and high-minded sons of the ocean, a sigh of remem- brance and a tear of sorrow, in homage to our friend who reposes at their base. END OF THE DISCOURSE. 102 This page in the original text is blank. I I I I i AN APPEND IX, CONTAINING A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF PRESIDENT HOLLEY, WITH EXTRACTS FROM HIS LETTERS, AND ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES. This page in the original text is blank. APPENDIX. NOTE A. -belong to the biographer rather than the eulogist. p. 4. IN contemplating an exquisite work of art, it may not be necessary to refer the imagination or the judgment to the pro- cess by which such perfection was attained. It is sufficient that it excites our whole admiration. But who does not in- quire, whence sprung this model by which the world has been delighted; by what agency has it acquired such mastery over our hearts Who, when the genius which inspired it is no more, will not love to dwell, not only upon its maturity, but on each step of its progress-its earliest indications Who will not demand, whence its origin Thus, in describing the matured character, it may not be necessary to go back to the infancy of its powers. To trace its virtues to their beginnings does not increase or diminish their value or beauty; yet such a process is not without its uses, certainly not without interest. The philosopher and the moralist are as fond of first principles as of results. They like to go back- step by step, to the origin of things; nor is such a course uninteresting to the common observer. Who, on beholding 'the deep and silent grandeur of the Mississippi,' and its twin torrent, the Missouri, or the beauti- ful Ohio, is not, at least in fancy, carried through their 14 APPENDIX. meanderings, to the thousand rills which are tributary to their greatness Who, on viewing the wide spreading St Lawrence, bathing the shores of two nations, does not search out its pa- renL Lake of the Woods, and follow the gathering tide through its placid course, and over rapids and cataracts, to that em- blem of eternity, the ocean The peaceful village of Salisbury, in the northwest corner of Connecticut, was the birthplace of the subject of this me- moir. It boasts, also, of having given birth to many persons, who have been highly distinguished in our country, and who still adorn its civil, military, and literary walks. Its iron soil, at once rugged and fertile, seems to have a pec'iliar adapta- tion to the production of vigorous intellect. Glowing patriot- ism, patient industry, ardent enterprise, and exuberant fancy, have been its common productions. These active energies, as exhibited in the character of its sons, are diffused through- out the nation. Its towering mountains, its beautiful lakes, its luxuriant vallies, though deserted by the genius they inspir- ed and nurtured, still claim their share in those ardent aspira- tions which sent it forth to an admiring world, and in that affection, which, amidst toil and vicissitude, ever directs its warmest impulses to the cherished remembrances, and dear scenes of its birth and infancy. Which of its sons, on revis- iting his native village, does not direct his eye, afar off, to the lofty Tarconack, and the pile of stones his boy-hands assist- ed to raise as an altar to fame on its summit Which of them is not moved by the sight of the placid Wonscopomac, t A mountain which rises behind the town. On the top of it there is a rude column of stones which may be seen many miles off wards the Hudson, and which it is still the custom of the young people to ad to in their annual visits. Often, while returning from Hudson,or Poughkeepsie, has the writer's eye been called to that interesting memento of youthful exploit, and often ob- served the enthusiasm which its first faint outline inspired. t The beautiful lake, four miles in circumference, on whose margin stands the house of Luther Holley, Esq. 106 APPENDIX. with its woods and lawns and the little skiff upon its ' wave- less mirror,' or the ever burning furnace sending up columns of flame and smoke beyond it Which of them is not in- spired with holy sentiments as he beholds the white dwelling of his father, with its orchard, and meadow bathed by the lim- pid waters Which of them does not feel his heart glow with religious emotion, while on a sabbath morning he presses on with the throng of neatly dressed youths and maidens, old men and children, and discovers, in the distance, 'The village church among the trees Where first his lisping prayers were given, Whose solemn peal still swells the breeze, Whose taper spire still points to heaven' Which of them is not animated with new life as he follows the pebbly brook, to which, in early days, the speckled trout lured his truant steps, from the now venerable schoolhouse on the hill or, seated in some lone nook, on the most elevated margin of the lake, contemplating the varied and lovely scene around him, does not exclaim with lively feelings, ' Why was not Rasselas contented ' It is an interesting question, and one that has given rise to much curious speculation, How does an individual inherit his genius That it is an inheritance, though greatly modi- fied by the circumstances which repress or foster its growth, all must allow. Some very intelligent persons earnestly con- tend that every superior man must have had a superior moth- er. However that may be-the author would choose to ex- emplify rather than contradict it-it is certain that the exam- ple, which to us is illustrious in all things, is an eminent in- stance in point. All know the mother of Washington. Fish- er Ames, also, had a distinguished mother, and Mrs Adams, the mother of our present chief magistrate, was remarkable 107 'I 108 APPENDIX. for strong powers of mind. Would that all intelligent moth- ers and intelligent fathers had such sons ! The parents of Mr Holley were both strongly marked, but had very different and peculiar traits. The father, who had blue eyes and fair hair and a remarkably spare person, was un- commonly quick in his perceptions, and equally rapid in action. He had an intuitive perception of what was just and right, and pursued the dictates of his principles with an undeviating step. He was ardent, intrepid, and kind; commanding, at once and uniformly, affection and respect. In no case, though he had many adverse circumstances to contend with, did he evince discouragement or lukewarmness. The, mother was above the common size, had black eyes and hair, was equally firm and affectionate, but of a slower and less sanguine temper- ament. It is a curious fact, and perhaps not unworthy of a passing remark, that their different features and characteris- ' From a number of facts, a few of which we shall select for the purpose of illustration, it will appear remarkably striking, that such an inheritance is more generally derived from the maternal than the paternal side. In the ex- amples to be adduced, a selection has been made with a view to the different varieties of mental superiority, and the following comprehends philosophers, poets, historians, and orators:- 'LORD BACOzr.-His mother was daughter to Sir Anthony Cooke. She was skilled in many languages, and translated and wrote several works, which displayed learning, acuteness, and taste. ' HUME, the historian, mentions his mother, daughter of Sir D. Falconer, President of the College of Justice, as a woman of" singular merit," and who, although in the prime of life, devoted herself entirely to his education. I R. B. SHERIDAN.-Mrs Frances Sheridan was a woman of considerable abilities. It was writing a pamphlet in his defence, that first introduced her to Mr Sheridan, afterwards her husband. She also wrote a novel highly prais- ed by Johnson. 'SCHI LLER, the German poet.-His mother was an amiable woman. She had a strong relish for the beauties of nature, and was passionately fond of music and poetry. Schiller was her favorite child. 'WILLIAM PITT.-Son of the great Lord Chatham. IGoETHE thus speaks of his parents ;-" I inherited from my father a cer- tain sort of eloquence, calculated to enforce my doctrines on my auditors; from APPENDIX. tics were singularly and forcibly blended in all their children, they having alternately blue eyes and fair hair, black eyes and black hair. Those who had the features of the mother, had the mind and character of the father, while, on the con- trary, those who had the lineaments of the father, had the tender and less persevering character of the mother. He, whom this narrative proposes to describe, had clear and bright, yet soft and expressive black eyes. His hair, in his youth, was black, fine, and silky. As he advanced in life it gradually re- treated from his fair, polished forehead, until but a remnant was left upon one of the most classic heads ever displayed to view. That he inherited chiefly the mind and character of his father it is our business to prove. But first it may not be uninteresting to show how rich that inheritance was. It will throw light upon the main figure of the piece to bring out that character with the distinctness and vividness it deserves. It will be delightful to the family who sprang from that good man, to have a faithful portrait of him they so sincerely loved and venerated, on the same pannel with one of them- selves, who shared equally in his affection and theirs; while my mother I derived the faculty of representing all that the imagination can conceive, with enerqg and vivacity." ' LORD ERSKINE'S mother was a woman of superior talent and discern- ment; by her advice, her son betook himself to the bar. ' THoMsON, the poet.-Mrs Thomson was a woman of uncommon natural endowments, possessed of every social and domestic virtue, with a warmth and vivacity of imagination scarcely inferior to her son's. 'BORRHAVE'S mother acquired a knowledge of medicine not often to be found in females. ' SIR WALTER SCOTT.-His mother, Elizabeth, daughter of D. Ruther- ford, was a woman of great accomplishments and virtue. She had a fond taste for, and wrote poetry, which appeared in print in 1789. ' We might further mention the mother of Marmontel, of Bonaparte, of Sir William Jones, and a host of others. But a sufficient number has been giv- en, we think, to show, that in a great majority of cases; eminent men have derived their talents from either parent, and that it is a remarkable circum- stance, that such inheritance is most generally from the maternal side.' 109 APPENDIX. the general reader will not be displeased with this family pic- ture, since all can derive from it, both pleasure and instruction. Luther Holley was descended in a direct line from Ed- mund Halley, a celebrated English philosopher, born the 29th of October, 1556, in St Leonard's Parish, Shoreditch, London. His great-grandfather came from England and settled in Stratford, Connecticut, and afterwards removed to Stamford in the same State. His grandfather married a lady by the name of Waitstill Webb, and continued at Stamford until his children were grown up, when he removed to Sharon, being one of its first settlers. His second son, John, whose wife's name was Sarah Lord, was the father of Luther. He lived prosperously in Sharon, until he had the misfortune to lose his house, with its contents, by fire, which, as he was a mechanic, reduced him to poverty and was a fatal blow to his ambition and energy. The following sketch of Luther Holley is in his own words, addressed to his son Horace, at his request, about a year be- fore his death. They died within two years of each other. Having made a few remarks on the pranks and accidents of his childhood, he thus proceeds ;- ' After I had advanced towards manhood, say sixteen or seventeen, my father was ill for a number of years. My two elder brothers were of age and gone from home. It fell, therefore, to my lot to carry on the farm. I worked hard during the day and at night had to go after doctors and med- icine. As doctors were then scarce, I had often to go eight or nine miles, when I was so weary that I have fallen asleep on my horse and rode for miles without knowing where I was, contriving to balance, however, so as to keep my seat. This I mention to show the practice and habits at that early day. ' My father continued ill for years after I was of age, but, by my own exertions and the persevering industry of my 110 APPENDIX. 1'11 mother and sisters, we lived in good style for that day, and punctually paid every demand. I worked at different places for two years, got forward, clothed myself well, and had something beforehand. But when at work upon a plough one day I cut my knee, and lay ten or twelve weeks under the care of the doctors, expecting to have my leg taken off. But on opening the swelling my knee got well, but was stiff. Af- ter the pain had ceased, and I was yet too weak to work, I concluded some other course must be fallen upon for a sup- port. I studied hard to qualify myself to keep school. I succeeded so well that I obtained a small school the following winter, and gave so much satisfaction that I was engaged also for the next. In the courseof the summer my kneebecame strong and I was able to labor, keeping school in the winter, as agreed upon,atahigher price. The next summer, worked my father's farm on shares; but the season was bad, my crops were light, and I lost a horse which I owed for in part. I was therefore again reduced to a level with the world. ' This you will say was discouraging and no time to marry. I was, notwithstanding, actually negotiating with your mother, and in the following October we were married. Soon after, I began my school and taught through the winter, the wages en- abling me to pay the residue for my dead horse, and get my- self well clothed. The following spring I was applied to, by a committee from Salisbury, to keep school in that place, they having received a flattering account of my success where I had taught. I agreed for six months for seven dollars and fifty cents a month, which was then a great price. This term I fulfilled my duties so much to the satisfaction of the district, that they hired me for another year at a still higher price. I then purchased a small house in the furnace neighbourhood, Salisbury, and began to keep house. There Milton, yourself, and Edward were born. I continued to keep the school for three years, the salary being raised to five pounds a month, I 112 APPENDIX. wheat being four shillings a bushel, or what was called the old way, continental money having begun to depreciate. ' I grew tired of keeping school, and an offer being made, I went into trade on commission, in which business I continu- ed two years, having acquired three hundred dollars. This brought me down to nearly the close of the war. I then formed a partnership with William Davis of Sharon. We made a large purchase of goods of Richard Smith of New London, who, being in Holland, had assisted our government, in its struggle, to procure a quantity of gunpowder. For this service, the Legislature of Connecticut granted him the privilege of bringing into the country twenty or thirty thou- sand dollars worth of dry goods. This purchase of Richard Smith was made late in the fall, and in the following spring came the news of peace. The price of goods fell. Mr Davis, discouraged, sold out for little or nothing, and quit busi- ness. I worried through, paid Smith, and cleared some- thing. ' In June, 1783, I formed a partnership with Read and Bo- gardus, who were large importers and lived in the city of New York. This business was carried on in the most satisfactory manner, and I continued in business alone till we moved to Redhook, on the Hudson, in 1794. ' After continuing there one year, and giving up the plan of going into the West India trade with the same Mr Read, as had been contemplated, we moved, as you well know, to Dover, New York, from which time you will recollect the events without further detail. ' Of the Dakin family I know but little. Your mother says they came from England some two or three generations back, and settled somewhere near Boston; that her great-grand- mother's name was Swift, her grandmother's name Deborah Johnston, her mother's name Rebecca Perry; that they were bred Calvinists; that her father became a Baptist after he was APPENDIX. married, and that he lived at Quaker Hill. Thence he remov- ed to what was called Phillips' Patent, where the family were brought up. They then came to Oblong, New York, where, as you know, he lived and died at an advanced age. 'These few events of my life, though unimportant, and hastily thrown together, may be interesting to you, my son, as coming from your father.' Having followed the good man through the simple story of his early life, let us survey him at his close, in the language of that son who still lives to inherit the virtues, as well as the station in life, of such a father, and in a letter written on the occasion by the President of Transylvania University. 'Our father's death is very much deplored by all classes of men. No man, occupying so exclusively a private station, and perhaps no man in any station, could be a greater loss to the community than he. His example was uncommonly salutary. His industry was almost unparalleled. His honesty and justice in all his dealings were proverbial. His sincerity and love of truth were never, perhaps, exceeded. He was temperate in everything, and strictly punctual in all his en- gagements. It is not his family and immediate friends alone that regret his loss, but the whole community. The poorer class of people, who were dependant upon him for small par- cels of land to cultivate on shares, and whom he usually fur- nished with hay, pasture, wood, grain, and other necessaries, are among those who most lament his death. There is not a poor man in the neighbourhood to whom he had not been more or less a benefactor, and who does not sincerely mourn his loss. We all feel it most deeply, and every day brings to view, additional reasons why we should regret his departure so far as we are concerned here. That beautiful farm, which he so much delighted to cultivate, which he managed with so 15 113 APPENDIX. much skill and such untiring vigilance, already shows that he is not there; and every succeeding year will manifest more pal- pably his absence. But to those who knew him no eulogy can add to the worth of his character. We all loved and respected him as a man of rare endowments. Few, com- mencing life as he did, have been so successful and so useful. 'That he lived a long life of active virtue is certain. And that he has left a bright example of the manner in which we are to perform our duties here is equally certain. That he was well prepared to enter upon the duties of a higher and infinitely more glorious state of existence, I cannot doubt. If so much diligence and perseverance iD the practice of all the social duties; so much fairness and integrity; so much honesty, justice, and liberality as he displayed in all his inter- course with his fellow men, be not acceptable to God, I know not how to estimate his character. ' What other men made a boast of professing to do, our parent did without profession or ostentation. It was the every day business of his life to " do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with his God." And when we consider the circum- stances under which he commenced life; the fortitude, the industry, the perseverance, by which he overcame every ob- stacle to his advancement to pecuniary independence and res- pectability; the complete success which he enjoyed for many years, without arrogance, and without being envied, we can- not but consider him a wonderful man. He not only had no enemies, but every body was his friend.' To this letter President Holley made the following reply. ' Transylvania University, April 16th, 1826. 'DEAR BROTHER- 'I have received your melancholy letter, conveying the afflicting intelligence of our beloved father's death. Although 114 APPENDIX. I have often reflected upon this event, and knew that the infor- mnation of it would probably come upon me by surprise, in con- sequence of my great distance from my parents and relatives, yet I was not prepared for the blow which certainty now inflicts. I find my feelings awakened by the tenderest recollections, which point primarily to him and our dear mother, and are then immediately associated with my afflicted sister and brothers. The features of our revered father's face, and their remarka- ble expression of thought and integrity, are continually rising to my imagination, and render it difficult for me to conceive of him as a lifeless corpse. God's will be done! I am resigned; I complain not in word or thought. The age, the virtues, the services, the entire preparation of our admirable parent, now no more, leave not a single deficiency in our contemplation of this sad event and its various relations. He has done all that was required by his fellow creatures or his Creator; he has left his family with nothing to lament but his absence; and has entered upon a new state of existence fully qualified for all the duties that may be assigned to him. While I reflect upon his active and useful life, his uniform integrity and benevolence, his vigorous and enlightenednind, his rational ideas of religion, his efficient philanthropy, his domestic and social virtues, and the numerous practical results of his labors, I enjoy a triumph of feeling that makes me, for the moment, forget his death, and that leads me along his upward flight to bear him company in a glorious immortality. I see him, with his venerable form and illuminated countenance, full of parental affection for us, and firm in conscious sincerity and worth, awaiting calmly, but with the deepest interest, the disclosures which eternity may make to him. I want no inspiration to furnish me with additional certainty concerning his destiny. My filial affection for him, and my deep reverence for the Deity, are equalled by the faith, which elevates and delights my soul on the subject of his thorough preparation for the world to come. 115 'In regard to our dear mother, I can offer to her no better consolation than the spirit of this letter. Here she will see my love and veneration for both my parents; my resignation under the loss of one; my sense of God's goodness in the continuance of the surviver; my recollection of the devoted children who surround her, though I am absent; my triumphant joy in the contemplation of the virtues of the departed; and my satisfied reflections upon the age, the time, the manner, and the circum- stances. It would be weakness and ingratitude to complain. Let natural feeling flow, while reason and religion illumine the tears that fall. 'To my sister and my brothers, I would say, We are happy notwithstanding our loss; happy in a thousand ways, in the affection of each other, in our education and principles, in the character and virtues of our parents, in our reputation and standing in society, in the means and comforts that surround us, and in the ability which we have to take care of ourselves and do good to others. God be praised for the blessings, which he has bestowed upon us! 'Your affectionate brother, ' HORACE HOLLEY.' Though without the least education except what was acquired by his own efforts, never having been at school but five days in his life, Luther Holley was well informed, and conversed, not only sensibly, but elegantly on all general subjects. He loved reading, had a sound judgment, and reasoned, as he acted, well. Good sense prevailed in all he said or did. His memory was so retentive, that he could, at one time, repeat the whole of Paradise Lost, for whose sublime author he entertained such a profound respect that he named his eldest son John Milton. Another favorite work of his, and which formed the principal part of his library, was a Universal History, which was also, in all its prominent features, transferred to his own mind. The way he accomplished so much, was, by never being a moment 116 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. idle. Even when seated to rest himself after the fatigue of business or labor, he was always seen with his book, and his mind exhibited as much elasticity as if his body had experienced no weariness. Decision was one of his most striking traits. No time was ever lost by vacillation of purpose. Such was the native force and independence of his mind, that he could not yield himself to sectarian views. He reverenced the great truths of religion; was full of practical piety; loved to contemplate the Deity in his works, in the history of man, and in the scriptures; but he could never bend his reason to the nar- row views of God's providence which prevail in weaker minds. Such was Luther Holley. The good mother, whose maiden name was Sarah Dakin, was distinguished for warm and generous affections in action, and patient endurance in trial. These mark the woman. In her they went beyond her sex. For her children she was never weary in well-doing. Her intellect, though slower than her husband's, was firm and decided. Her education was strictly sectarian, her father being an Orthodox Baptist preacher; a character at that day, as now, abounding in zeal, but not holding in respect, so much as in these more enlightened times, any species of the world's knowledge. Her religion, which 'grew with her growth and strengthened with her strength,' maintained its influence over her through life, but not to the extinction of her benevolent and philanthropic feelings. She never could be persuaded to believe that her own child would suffer endless torments on account of a point of faith. She did not regard forms exclusively; nor did she in doctrine pretend to infallibility, or vindicate those who did. She left the control of each man's faith, where it should ever rest, with himself and his God. As she still lives to bless her children, and to weep over this humble tribute to excellence, she will excuse being, without her knowledge, brought out from her retirement, and the intro- duction in this place of a letter to her son on his first leaving 17 APPENDIX. her maternal care. It is a true exhibition of her natural and amiable character, and shows also the filial reverence, which, amidst the wreck of many valuable papers, preserved this early memorial. 'DEAR HORACE- ' Often have I attempted to write to you, but as often has my mind been confused and perplexed; and being entirely out of the habit of communicating my thoughts in this way, I have been discouraged and given it up. Yet again feeling so much interested, I cannot omit this opportunity, especially as our dear Myron is coming away to leave you alone. I am convinced you are a good boy and have behaved with great propriety, both before you had Myron's company, and during his stay. Yet when I consider that he is to be separated from you, it calls up a more tender solicitude. I cannot but say, dear Horace, Keep up a strict watch over all your actions, that you may end your studies with as much credit as you have begun them, and as your friends anticipate for you. ' We shall rejoice to have Myron at home to live again, and shall be equally happy when it is your time to return. 'Receive the fond wvishes and affection of 'YOUR MOTHER.' Of these excellent parents, Horace, being the third son, was born at Salisbury, in the county of Litchfield, and State of Connecticut, on the thirteenth of February, 1781. He early manifested a more than usual degree of mental vivacity, and, even in childhood, gave indications of high and generous quali- ties. Blessed at his birth with a sound and healthful frame, no physical infirmities checked the expansion of his faculties. His senses were perfect; his perceptions were quick and clear, and his memory retentive and ready. Thus qualified to learn, he was naturally fond of trying his opening powers; and the acqui- sition of new ideas, from whatever source, was to him an en- ]18 APPENDIX. joyment. He was placed at a common district school in the immediate neighbourhood of his father's house, when he was little more than three years old; and the peculiarly rapid pro- gress which he made in the simple studies suited to his age, proved his aptitude to receive instruction, and plainly showed that his lessons were no burden to him. Most children soon grow weary of the school-room and the stated task; and to insure their attendance, the frequent exercise of parental au- thority is found indispensible. But the parents of Horace never had occasion to urge him to school. On the contrary, if at any time domestic convenience required his stay at home, it was a disappointment to him, and positive commands were necessary to produce compliance. The first ten years of his life passed in this way, chiefly at school or in such light labor as was suited to his years, and which, intermingled with the customary sports of childhood, served both to develope his corporeal powers, and to give a healthful tone to his mind. With such faculties, and such a disposition to use them, he soon became familiar with the common rudi- ments of knowledge; and as nothing further was to be acquired at a district school, he was permitted to avail himself of other modes of gratifying his active spirit. His father, in addition to the cultivation of a farm, was pretty extensively engaged in country trade, which gave occasion to the transportation of considerable quantities of produce and merchandise, and to many errands of business from home. New York was then, as now, the ultimate market for that quarter of the country, and intercourse with it then was, as it still is, carried on through the freighting villages on the Hudson river. A drive to Redhook, or Rhinebeck, or Poughkeepsie, on a smooth road, through a cultivated and pleasant district, with a pair of good horses, under independent circumstances, and charged with business, was no repulsive employment to a boy of manly temper and enterprising spirit. It was well adapted to promote -many valuable ends. It was calculated to help forward a knowledge 119 of men and things- of the modes of business and the relative values of commodities-to throw a youth in a beneficial way upon his own resources, and to aid in giving firmness and tone to character; and in this kind of occupation, this new school of practical education, was Horace frequently and cheerfully engaged, while yet a boy of twelve or thirteen years of age, the promptitude, accuracy, and fidelity with which he discharged his trust, always bringing tokens of parental approbation. At about this period, his father, in pursuance of his original purpose of educating Horace as a merchant, sought a place for him in the city of New York. Finding, however, that a situa- tion in a mercantile house of respectable standing and extensive connexions, could not be procured for him without paying a considerable premium for the privilege, the design was relin- quished, and Horace went into his father's store, as the best means, then at hand, of furnishing him with wholesome occu- pation, cultivating habits of industry, and advancing his know- ledge of business. Still, he was not exclusively devoted to this employment; but, with those of his brothers then at home, he was occasionally on the farm and at school, and, wherever engaged, was active, faithful, intelligent, and efficient. As his faculties unfolded, however, and as the impulse from within gave more decided indications of the direction of his propensities and tastes, it became more and more obvious that intellectual pursuits attracted him the most powerfully; and the rising desire to obtain a liberal education strengthened, until his thoughts became so engrossed with that object, his hopes and wishes so clung to it, that his father finally consented, and came to the determination to set apart for the purpose, that portion of his estate with which he had intended to set him up in business. The plan being adopted, it was speedily acted upon; for procrastination was no part of the character of father, or son. Accordingly, in 1797, Horace being then sixteen years old, was taken to Williamstown, in Berkshire County, Massachusetts, and placed at the academy, or preparatory school, connected 120 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. with Williams College, with the view, when the proper time should arrive, of entering him in that institution. At that early period, however, Williams College was more limited in literary means than at present. Perceiving the deficiencies of that establishment, and ascertaining the superior advantages of Yale College, after completing his preparatory studies at Williamstown, he went to New Haven and was entered at Yale, as a member of the Freshman class, at the commencement of the collegiate year in 1799. Yale was then flourishing under the auspices of its celebrated President, Dwight, whose brilliant reputation shed lustre on the institution committed to his care, and whose individual fame had long before become fixed as a part of the public glory of his country. Horace now found his long cherished desire of knowledge in a way to be satisfied. ' He looked upon the path opened before him, and on the elevating competition which it provided, with a generous exultation; and he pressed forward on his new career with fresh alacrity, and pursued it to the end with unabating intensity of purpose. His course was upward, from the beginning. On his visits home, during the vacations, as well as in his letters to his friends, he showed, by the cheerful tone of his mind, by the buoyancy of his hopes, and the complexion of his schemes of life, that he prized the opportunities he enjoyed, and was making good use of them; that his honest ambition was reaping a perpetual gratification; that he was tasting a happiness as little mixed with alloy as often falls to the lot of humanity, and that he might lawfully look forward to honorable distinction. The scenes which are exhibited within classic walls, being a kind of Freemasonry proscribed to the weaker sex, the reader can imagine them as well as the writer-if of the more favored order of creation, and initiated into those mysteries, rites, and privileges-far better. He has experienced in miniature the struggles, hopes, and despondencies, the rivalries and excite- ments which he has had afterwards to encounter in real life. 16 121 The subject of this memoir could not be satisfied with mediocrity. Emulation in this new theatre of action excited him to the greatest efforts, which enabled him to overcome every obstacle. He studied intensely and stood among the foremost. He had his full share of college honors, performed his own tasks promptly, and, as often happens to the brighter spirits of a class, assisted through difficult exercises, some of his duller or less industrious companions. Many an idle delin- quent, or votary of pleasure, has carried off the honor of a brilliant composition or an apt translation from his pen. He has since been heard to say, that during the four years of his college life, he was never the subject of a fine, or admonition from his tutors. Indeed, he was a favorite with them all, and with the President, the best test of talent and application. He was also distinguished in the polite circles of the town, which was then the resort of many Southern families, whose sons or brothers were at the college and among his intimate friends, for his elegant person, polished manners, and intellectual con- versation. He already began to take that lead in society which he ever afterwards maintained. He discovered also, thus early, that taste for mental philosophy, then called meta- physics, and not so much in repute, or understood, as at present, for which he afterwards was so much distinguished. Hence he acquired the credit of being a lover of disputation. The treasures of Stewart, and of his favorite Brown, had not then been unfolded to him and to the world. The following letters from his father will illustrate this period, and show how that man of nature, who must by this time have acquired favor with the reader, estimated this darling son;- ' Salisbury, December 30th, 1799. 'DEAR HORACE- ' I received your two letters with great pleasure, and am glad to hear you are well and contented. Your first I regard as a letter of fine sentiment and good style. I think myself 122 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. happy beyond the common lot of parents in regard to my children, each more than answering my highest expectations. 'Think nothing, my dear boy, of the observations I may have made in regard to expense, or showing that other pursuits might claim the preference over a college education. They were advanced for your good, and not from any idea of self separate from the interest of my family. They only arose from a wish that you would spend the sum allotted to you with suitable discretion; and that you should be habituated to calcu- lations of economy. ' The other remarks grew out of a fear that you might view your fellow creatures in the common pursuits of life, as being less useful than they really are. But my fears of that kind are all done away. I discover too much judgment and good sense in your sentiments to admit any further fears of that kind. 'Go on, my son, and prosper. You can hardly do otherwise with your perseverance. Fear not; my mind and warmest wishes will accompany you up the " difficult path of science," as you express it. Let no thoughts of the kind alluded to retard your progress; but rather let this idea possess your mind, and invigorate your endeavours,-that, let what will happen, a parent, animated with the truest friendship, will always be ready to assist you. ' The love and best wishes of the whole family come to you with this letter.' 'Salisbury, July 21st, 1800. 'DEAR BOY- 'Your observations on gaming are worthy of the talents you possess. They give me pleasure as I hope your mind is duly impressed by them. What I most feel and wish, is, that you may so advance in the path of science as to be useful in your day and generation, meet the high expectations of your friends, and the approbation of your own mind. 123 APPENDIX. ' Often, Horace, have you observed that you should not be satisfied with that moderate share of knowledge that will just pass in a crowd of dull scholars; but that it was your ambition to do something on the theatre of life to distinguish yourself. Now is the time to prove yourself capable of securing the rewards of high and honorable efforts. ' But, well knowing that you have sufficient spirit and ambi- tion, I shall cease to urge. I have little time, and business calls from every quarter. Your happiness and prosperity I link with my own, looking forward with no small pleasure to the time when you will be an ornament to your country, as well as the pride of your family.' 'Salisbury, March 21st, 1802. 'DEAR HORACE- 'After several attempts which have been interrupted, I hope now to be able to finish and send you a letter. There would be no difficulty in writing if I had nothing to say out of the common way. But without further preface I shall proceed to the subject which will occupy the principal part of this sheet. I have long since viewed you as possessing talents above the common level, and several pieces of your own composition, which you read when last at home, more fully confirmed my opinion; yet with all your activity and good sense, I feel some degree of anxiety on your account. Are you not too much in- clined to domination, and, though honest and upright in disposi- tion, prone to consider the common class of mankind with too little attention I have not time to be very particular, but would not a fair and candid investigation give you different ideas, and be of use to you in your future course 'Look round, my son, and carefully examine the causes by which the United States are thus rapidly increasing in wealth and improvement. Is it not because we are habituated to, and not ashamed of labor When you view the highly cultivated fields, the towns and villages, the useful as well as the more elegant 124 APPENDIX. arts; nay, when you are conveniently dressed, and comforta- bily fed, are you not led to say, These are the productions of labor; and for these am I beholden to the hard hand of in- dustry Why then should we not say, The laboring class, though less informed in science, and perhaps less entertaining in conversation, are yet the most meritorious citizens 'If we look for men most necessary in times of imminent danger, where are we better furnished than by applying to those who are inured to hardships, like Cincinnatus and Gideon of old, the former called from the plough, the latter from the threshing floor General Lincoln, I am told, cultivated his farm with his own hands. General Greene was not only a farmer, but a forger of iron. General Putnam, we all know, was a laborious man, and, although rough in manner, was a good commander. Once more; I am informed that the battle of Bennington, which first checked the victorious army of Bur- goyne, was fought by an intrepid band of farmers. Many peo- ple think that the time is approaching when the great cities and commercial towns of the United States will be ingulfed in luxu- ry; and inevitable ruin must ensue, but for the yeomanry, who, scattered over the country, simple in their manners and living, bold and hardy from the habits of labor, will, it is hoped, form a wall of defence. 'My intention, however, in writing, is not to damp the ardor of your mind, or to discourage in you that laudable ambition, which you so handsomely and ingeniously distinguish and de- scribe in your letter to Milton, but so to direct you that your conduct may not only be dignified, but tempered with that be- coming modesty, which helps much to regulate the entrance into life, and to assist in placing a just value on every object. The most pleasing thing in nature must be, to be able to converse with the wise, to inform the ignorant, to pity and despise the intriguing villain, and to compassionate and assist the poor and unfortunate. 125 'Your mind, Horace, I think capable of almost any attain- ment. I have no fear but that it will be stored with pleasing and useful knowledge, and with just and proper ideas of moral rectitude; and that you will be abundantly able to make your- self agreeable to those with whom you are to associate. May you so cultivate your understanding and simplify your conduct, that, with the learned, you can be learned; with the ignorant, useful; with the cheerful, pleasant; and with the poor, compas- sionate. Then I shall say the small degree of anxiety I feel on your account, will. be done away, and I shall, as respects you, be entirely happy.' 'Salisbury, dpril 24th, 1803. 'MY DEAR SON- 'The sentiments contained in your letter I am very much pleased with. I think them worthy of the highest notice. Yes, my son, bring those sentiments into operation and you will be prepared to fill any situation into which you may be called. I fully agree with you, that the mind had better be overbur- dened than not to have employment enough, and that by exer- cise and exertion, not only the body, but every mental power is invigorated. I must repeat, that I not only think the senti- ments of that letter exalted, but the language happily calculated to impress them on the mind, and to make them appear beauti- ful, both to Christian and infidel.' The period of a college life, to the actors in its busy scenes, is undoubtedly full of incident. Many, perhaps, look back to that period as embracing more points of interest than any other. But, since that interest, as in most cases of intense power, is more the offspring of the mind ardently engaged in exciting and de- lightful pursuits, than of any peculiar combination of circum- stances, it will occupy a brief space in this narrative. We might close it, as it is usually closed, though a contradiction in terms, with a brilliant Commencement, and by stating that Horace 126 APPENDIX. was admitted to his degree of bachelor of arts in 1803, and left college with a high reputation for talents and attainments, for ex- pansion of mind and elevation of character. We deem it proper, however, to advert to a few other particulars of an interesting character. The subject of our memoir, as we have seen, had answered fully the expectations of his excellent father, of his tutors and professors, and of the President, from whom he always receiv- ed marked attention. He had gone through the various stages of his college course, acquitting himself perfectly to the satis- faction of all concerned; was considered among the first of a large and distinguished class, in whose various associations for literary purposes, he took a leading part. He excelled in de- clarnation and extempore speaking. Hence, in these societies, he became a very popular orator, though sometimes an envied one. His conciliating manners, his colloquial powers, together with his commanding mind, ensured to him, not only respect and attention, but universal admiration. Some of the exercises of this time still remain, which are honorable specimens of vig- orous, refined, and elevated thinking. Among them, the pro- duct of the Junior year, is a poem of some length. They em- brace, however, many popular sentiments of the day, which are now obsolete. The preservation of them shows the attachment of the heart to the things of our youth. The author of these early effusions preserved them with care, while the results of his matured reason and deep researches being, in his various migrations, considered cumbrous and troublesome, were de- stroyed. He at different times committed to the flames, volumes of sermons, and essays on various subjects, saying, as they consumed, that the whole was treasured in his mind. But every memento of youth, with every letter of friendship or af- fection, was fondly preserved. The Revival of 1803, which spread over New Haven, ex- tended also to the college. Many of the students were num- bered among its subjects. It is not strange that one, of the enthu- APPENDIX . 127 APPENDIX. siastic temperament we have described, should have caught its influence. His mind, equally ardent in everything, imbibed the spirit of the time and gave all its eloquence to divine things. The debating clubs were changed into meetings for religious exhortation, prayer, and other religious exercises. Hence the first impulse towards that profession which he afterwards embraced, though he was destined for the law-a profession for which the particular constitution of his mind, and his uncommon ambition, best qualified him; and in which he would undoubt- edly have distinguished himself more than in any other. With these softened feelings, during the Senior vacation, he retired to the bosom of his brother's family, then in Poughkeep- sie, on the Hudson, to prepare for the last honors of his col- lege, being appointed to pronounce an oration. Here he was seized with the fever and ague, which nearly unfitted him for the task. Pale and emaciated, he appeared before the public, and, as he ever did, carried with him the admiration, as well as the deep sympathy of the audience. It will give some idea of the excitement of the time to state, that, of this enthusiastic class, a great proportion, before parting for their distant homes, entered into a solemn engagement in writing to pray for each other at a certain hour every day-an engagement showing more of the spirit of devotion and the ardor of youth, than a knowledge of what is practicable in real life. Many of the more conscientious afterwards became ab- solved from the obligation with the same formality that it was entered upon, choosing that such an act of friendship should at least have the merit of being voluntary. Bound together by so many ties, the parting was solemn and affecting. They embraced in tears, and bade each other adieu-with many an eternal adieu! After leaving their .dlma Mater they were soon spread over every section of the coun- try. Of the course taken by that individual of the number, to whom we must now be exclusively confined, the following letter from the best of fathers will furnish some elucidation. 128 ' Salisbury, July 13th, 1803. 'D EAR HORACE- ' I have but a moment to write. I can, however, observe that your letters came safely, and that I have thought much of their contents. Still I am not fully prepared to give a final answer. ' The advantages of going into New York to study law, do not strike me as being very great, and the expense will be much more than in some village or small town. I should think, on the whole, it would not be best to calculate for that place. Probably some other plan may be fallen upon that will be equally advantageous and less expensive. It is not always those men who are sent to the most expensive schools, or educated in the largest cities, who are the most useful in society. Self-invention, and an independent mind resting on its own powers for support, are, in my estimation, a better foundation, than all the knowledge, without themt that can be acquired from opportunities like those you mention. After all that can be gained from such places, connexions, and studies, a man must stand or fall by a different calculation-I say, by energies originating in his nature, called out by experience and necessity. These will render science useful, and science will give them a fine polish. But to depend on fine places, or a library of books alone, will, I believe, result in nothing but disappointment. ' But time presses, and I can give you my ideas better in conversation, or when I am less hurried.' The son carried into execution his own plan in this case, as he had always done before. One of his strongest characteristic was the power of doing whatever he undertook to do. Having decided on a project, he went on to perform it without interro- gation as to the result. Therefore, in the winter succeeding his graduation, we find him in the office of Messrs Riggs and Radcliff, New York, as a student at law. It was then his 17 APPENDIX. 129 APPENDIX. opinion, as it continued to be, that large cities furnish the greatest facilities for every liberal pursuit; that where there is the greatest collection of men and things, the mind will be best enabled to bring into exercise its own powers. All his energies were for some months engaged in this study. But soon a reaction took place which gave a different direction to his mind, and determined his destiny for life. This change, which gave to the profession of divinity one of its brightest ornaments, and a most eloquent expositor, may be ascribed in a great measure to the influence of Dr Dwight, who, much interested in his favorite pupil, was desirous of engaging in this service so much active talent. He was proud of this son of his beloved institution; one, who, as stated in another part of this work, was no bad example of his own mind and manner, his powerful eloquence, and his successful instruc- tion. This distinguished gentleman was remarkable for the power he acquired over his pupils. It was a paternal influence. They hung upon his words with delight, and regarded his advice as law. In this trait of character, as afterwards exhibited, the pupil, perhaps, excelled his master. Wherever a son of Transylvania may be found, its lamented President will have a friend and eulogist. It was natural that so much enthusiasm, somewhat subdued by recent religious impressions, on being removed to uncongenial scenes of business and bustle, should, under a temporary disgust, readily yield to any plausible suggestion which promised to restore him to the scenes and friends he had left, to his favorite haunts, and to his respected preceptor. Accordingly, in the summer of 1804, we find him among the students of theology under Dr Dwight, and residing, with Mr, afterwards Professor Stewart of Andover, in the family of the venerable Dr Dana. Here he engaged in his new course with all the zeal which novel- ty as well as ardor, and a lively satisfaction with the late change in his destiny, could inspire. Here also he cultivated poetry, and indulged his tastes and his friendships. It was a season of 130 peculiar interest and very important in its consequences. It was a period which formed an era in the religious opinions of the place. The doctrines of the old divines were thought too lax, and the system of Hopkins was engrafted upon that of Calvin, and upon the ruin of some of the best men of the day. It must in justice be said of the distinguished head of Yale, that he did not go the full length of that austere system. It often happens, however, that the pupil exceeds the master in zeal, just in proportion as he lacks knowledge. This new system had for a time its influence, just as the dogmas of any school are received till better are found. The son, from the strong affection subsisting between them, very naturally en- deavoured to impress upon the mind of his father, views he considered so important. That mind, whose force consisted in judgment rather than imagination, resisted the dogmas, while it received and cherished the spirit. It is thus, that the novice, elated with the freshness and vividness of his impressions, would force his convictions upon the matured, the reflecting, and the dispassionate. It is thus, that the learner of rules would restore to first principles, the mind which has lost sight of them in practising results. How much has the artist to forget of the steps by which he arrived at perfection and how careful should the young convert be in making his own impulses the rule of another's faith Some passages from the father's letters are here given. The same goodness which breathed through all he said, will appear in the feelings they express. The same generous spirit shall still attend us, and, like the genius of Eastern fable, cheer and guide us on our way. ' The sentiments contained in your letter I have read with satisfaction. Whatever may be my own lot, I hope you may never depart from that faith for which you so earnestly contend, nor lose that hope which appears to be sure and steadfast. You have often mentioned in your letters in a very affecting manner, the interest you take in these subjects, in which APPENDIX . 131 I am more and more led to think lies the highway for man to walk and be happy. But I find in me, like the governor of Caesarea, a strong propensity to put off the examination of them till a more convenient season.' Speaking of certain dogmatical and technical divines, he says;- 'Such mechanical preachers will never warm my heart, or call forth my affections. They may, however, do good to oth- ers, therefore I do not wish to find fault with them. One essential thing with me, in every part of divine worship, is, that the preacher should feel what he says, and that he be hurried on at times, with increased energy, by the warmth of his own affections. Then, and not till then, will my mind be warm enough to receive any benefit. I hope all are not like me.' After a sermon that interested him, he says;- 'All this was said in so forcible and affecting a manner, I was ready to say with King Agrippa, "Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian," and also can say, with respect to the congregation, as Milton did in another case, "That his words drew audience and attention Stll as night and summer noontide air! " Such reasoning has great influence on my mind, and leaves an impression like the seal on softened wax. Tonight you may read my feelings in the above sentiments. Tomorrow all may be gone forever, and other cares may occupy my whole attention. Such is the state of my mind. What I gather to day may be blown away tomorrow. This I hope will not alarm you, as you know, from long acquaintance, of what unaccountable materials my mind is compounded.' APPENDIX. 132 This state of feeling must be common to all strong minds, whose habit is to be governed by reflection and not by impulse. After the excitement produced by exaggerated views has passed over, the judgment resumes its influence. In reference to the change of profession in 1804, he says;- ' Happiness, my son, is the great pursuit of all. If you found it was not to be obtained by the study and practice of the law, you were perfectly right to quit it for the study of theology. The ardent wish of my heart is, that you may be finally estab- lished in that course of life which will render you most happy, and where you will be most useful to mankind.' The respect and affection for Dr Dwight, though there was afterwards some discrepancy of opinion, continued through life. The directness and communicativeness of Mr Holley's mind led him to express his sentiments with more boldness than others. Hence they at first met with opposition, even from the very persons who afterwards espoused them. It is always dangerous to contradict the established theories of an instructer. In this case full justice was done to the preceptor, whose death, so much lamented, was the occasion of two sermons in Hollis Street, in which his genius and character were exhibited in their best and strongest points of view. It has been remarked, that of the numerous pupils of that distinguished gentleman and scholar, Mr Holley was the only one that paid that tribute to his memory. The marriage of Mr Holley with the author of these pages, took place at New Haven, on the first of January, 1805. The first six months after this event were passed under the paternal roof at Salisbury. The time of the young divine, the date of whose license preceded but a few days that of his marriage, was employed, during a severe winter in the country, in com- posing sermons and pursuing his theological studies. In the fol- lowing summer lie repaired to New Haven, and various invitations APPENDIX. 133 APPENDIX. were received by him. Much expectation was excited by a new pulpit orator, a young man whose course had hitherto been bril- liant, and it was in no respect disappointed. The writer, not an unconcerned spectator of these events, recollects the deep interest which was felt on the occasion. Invitations pressed upon him, and lie was not long in selecting a residence, and the selection, in a personal point of view, as often happens to the young and roman- tic, was made less in reference to the real wants of life, than to taste, literary ease,-and rural retirement. It is sufficient to name Greenfield Hill, Fairfield, Connecticut, which once boasted as its pastor, the so often named President of Yale, who cele- brated its beauties in verse, and who retained an after influence on its destinies. The successor to his pastoral charge entered with zeal upon his new relations. He was ordained by the Western Consociation. of Fairfield County, September the thirteenth, 1805. The Society ' voted to give Mr Holley five hundred and sixty dollars per year for his services in the ministry, so long as said society and Mr Holley could agree.' It was at the option of either to dissolve the union, when they should consider it no longer expedient to remain together. There never was the least disaffection between them, but after the experience of nearly three years, it was found that the salary was too small. And, though the situation was delightful, the people kind, the professional duties congenial, the tender charities of life agreeable, still a larger portion of substantial comforts was necessary to the well being of a family. These it was not in the power of so small a community to supply; and for these, even with the best economy and discipline, the pleasures of taste could never be rendered an entire substitute. Although the eye was never wearied with contemplating the various objects in the view, a view comprehending in its wide range a great extent of that beautiful sheet of water, Long Island Sound, with the Island in the distance; while nearer Gmieenfield Hill, a poem by Dr Dwight. 134 APPENDIX. might be seen, reposing among rich fields and lawns, villages with their spires and villas with their orchards and cultivated grounds. These were at the base of the hill. Its verdant summit is crowned by the white church, with clusters of neat dwellings and gardens, and elegant mansions. It is a scene which presents new charms on each exhibition, though beheld every day, and which the writer, even at this distance of time, cannot but pause to admire anew, and to indulge a feeling of tender regard for the friends whose kindness consecrated that interesting period. Yet in the midst of this loveliness of nature, and the exercise of the holiest sentiments of man, the cares of life would intrude. Even two young persons, who had not yet lost a romantic disregard of wealth, were forced to admit that mental food alone was not sufficient. Though indulging in no wishes beyond their home, they had tastes and habits which de- manded something above what was merely indispensable to sub- sistence. It was believed that other situations better adapted to these views, would at the same time open a wider sphere of usefulness. Accordingly, a dissolution of the pastoral connexion with this parish was sought and amicably effected, as appears from the following paper, which is an extract from the records of the Consociation of the Western District of Fairfield County, dated September thirteenth, 1808. ' Votes of the church and society concurring with Mr Holley in his application for dismission, were presented to the Consocia- tion by committees regularly appointed. ' After an extensive and minute examination of the circum- stances relative to the expediency of dismissing Mr Holley, Resolved, unanimously, that under all the circumstances the Consociation judge it expedient to dismiss Mr Holley from his pastoral and ministerial relations to the church and people of Greenfield, and he is dismissed accordingly. And while the Consociation regret that circumstances are such as to render it 135 expedient to dissolve the connexion between Mr Holley and the church and people of Greenfield, and to separate from their own body a brother whom they so justly esteem, they do cheer- fully declare their entire approbation of his ministerial character, and recommend him to the grace of God, and likewise to the church as a gospel minister, humbly praying the great head of the church to open to him a door of usefulness in building up his glorious cause and kingdom in this world.' Again at New Haven, ever the starting place of his hopes, and freed from all engagements and every external influence, Mr Holley took a survey of the religious world, desirous of avoiding the inconvenience of again placing himself in a situa- tion not calculated to promote his happiness. Under the most favorable circumstances, having excellent recommendations, and what was better, a growing reputation, he determined on a journey through Massachusetts and Maine. He had, previously to leaving Greenfield, travelled through New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. He was now at maturity, and perhaps no man ever presented a finer combination of rare qualities. His mind was active, vigorous and glowing; his person manly, graceful, and imposing; and he had a power of eloquence which few possess, and none surpass. On recurring to his letters of this period, which give animated descriptions of scenes and persons; hopes and feelings; purposes and prospects; we find him, October thirteenth, in Marblehead, where he remained several weeks, preaching with such success, that he was invited by the citizens of that place to become their permanent pastor. This, however, he declined. He received also about this time invitations from Middletown, Connecticut, Albany, New York, and other places. He determined, how- ever, against establishing himself in either. Having finished his engagement at Marblehead, he repaired to Boston,' where some expectation had been excited in regard to him; and we next find him preaching at the Old South Church, and at the 136 APPEwNDIX. APPENDIX. Thursday Lecture, always to crowded houses. Subsequently lie was engaged at the South End Church, Hollis Street, where, after several weeks of probation, he was invited to undertake the pastoral charge. He did not hesitate to accept of a situa- tion so eligible-a situation that not only promised, but more than realized, all that he had hoped. It was at this moment of gathering anticipations that he was made happy by the intelli- gence of the birth of a daughter, at New Haven, in his absence. The happiness he experienced on the occasion, though in the expressions of excited feeling, may be allowed to appear in his own words. ' I cannot realize the joy the event has given me. I think of the mother and I think of the daughter; and my soul is filled with gratitude. I should hasten immediately home, now that I have received a call from the society here, were it not that I remember the warning you gave me some time since, not to cause you a relapse by breaking in upon you too soon and too suddenly. Yet I am extremely anxious to see you and your first gift. The era of brighter hopes seems to have commenced in our history. We were married before we obtained a settle- ment. That settlement proved to us a term of severe trial. We now have a daughter before a second settlement, and I trust the favorable omens are not the deception of evil genii. I shall write immediately to our friends and lead them to par- take in our happiness.' Having accepted the invitation from the Church and Society in Hollis Street, the installation took place on the eighth of March, 1809. This connexion continued for ten years, and perhaps no society and minister ever lived together more harmonious- ly-he giving to that excellent people the most entire and perfect satisfaction, and receiving from them every demonstra- tion of affection and esteem. It is difficult to conceive how a relation, allowed to be so mutually interesting and beneficial, 18 137 APPENDIX. could have been dissolved. But of this we must speak here- after. It is certain that an event so deeply regretted at the time, never ceased to be lamented by both parties. Though the one is now insensible to suffering, the other still mourns, as appears from the following extract from their own records. ' Sunday, 6ugust 19th, 1827. 'At a meeting of the proprietors of Hollis Street Meeting- house, held after divine service in the afternoon, deacon SAMUEL MAY presiding, the following was offered and unani- mously adopted. ' The Hollis Street Society have heard with deep and un- feigned regret, that their late pastor, the Rev. Dr Holley, departed this life on the thirtyfirst ultimo. This event has brought forcibly to their minds the time, when by the dearest and warmest ties he was associated with them, and administered with so much zeal and effect at their altar, and led in their devo- tions; and feeling in common with all the friends of the deceas- ed great veneration for his memory, and being desirous to pay to his virtues and talents that token of regard which they so highly merit-and, whereas the Rev. Mr Pierpont, their pastor is absent, therefore ' Voted, that a committee of seven be chosen to confer with him on his return, and make such arrangements as they may think will most appropriately express the feelings of this society, for the loss which not only they, but the community at large, have sustained in the death of an individual of such high and distinguished talents. ' Voted, that the deacons of this church, Messrs Samuel May, William Brown, and Henry Bass, with Joseph Lovering, Joshua Davis, Otis Everett, John D. Williams, and Gerry Fairbanks, be of this committee. 'Report of the Committee.-The committee chosen at the meeting of the proprietors of Hollis Street Church and Society, on Sunday the nineteenth instant, have attended to the duty 138 APPENDIX. assigned them and ask leave respectfully to report;-That they availed themselves of an early opportunity after the return home of our reverend pastor, to confer with him, and found his feel- ings in unison with ours, deeply impressed by the sudden and afflictive event of the death of the late President Holley. They learned that it is his purpose to prepare a suitable discourse on the occasion, which it is his intention to deliver on the afternoon of the next sabbath. 'Your committee have also waited upon the chairman of "The Singing Committee," and requested him to prepare ap- propriate music for the occasion, and to confer with our pastor in the arrangements of such services as the impressive event and the feelings of this people render proper. All which is re- spectfully submitted. '(Signed,) SAMUEL MAY, Chairman, per order. ' Sunday, September 2d, 1827. 'Voted, that a committee be chosen to wait upon the Rev. Mr Pierpont, and offer him the thanks of this society for his chaste and elegant discourse, delivered this day, on the virtues, talents, and worth of our late friend, the Rev. Dr Holley, and to request him to favor the society with a copy for the press. ' Voted, that the Rev. Mr Pierpont, with the deacons, Messrs May, Brown, and Bass, be a committee, who are here- by requested in behalf of the society, to write a suitable letter of condolence to the widow of the late Rev. Dr Holley, and to forward her a copy of the discourse, should it be printed, and of the doings of this society at this and the two last meetings. ' Attest, JOSHUA CRANE, Clerk.' The following letter, as an evidence of the same feeling, now that it can avail nothing, may, not unaptly, be introduced. It was never seen by Mr Holley. It arrived in New Orleans after he sailed. 139 APPENDIX. 'Boston, July 17th, 1827. 'DEAR SIR- 'A new society having been formed in the south part of this city, for the purpose of building a Unitarian church, by many of your friends and admirers, I take the liberty of sug- gesting to you the advantage you and your friends may gain by your visiting this city, during the summer. The corner stone was laid this morning, and the house will probably be completed before the first of January. ' There is no one authorised to solicit you to be their pastor, nor can there be until the house is more forward; but, from the conversation of many with whom I have consulted, you may depend on a full society of such friends as you always have had every reason to expect to find in Southenders. ' Personally I regret being obliged to address you anonymous- ly. But it would be an injury rather than a benefit should it be known that I had solicited your return. But, as there is a society formed, with every prospect of its being a full and respectable one, there can be no impropriety in your visiting your old friends, and if they can make it for your interest to return to them, you must permit me to say I hope it will conduce to your happiness, as it certainly will, and greatly, to the benefit of your very many sincerely affectionate and devoted Boston friends.' It is not the intention of this narrative to enter the angry field of controversy. But some few remarks are necessary in relation to a supposed change of religious opinions about this time, as if Mr Holley had accommodated his principles to his ambition. There was, in fact, no sudden change; it was the gradual progress of an inquiring mind, under favoring cir- cumstances. In attempting a defence, if a defence for honest researches, and legitimate convictions be necessary, we set out with stating our belief that a change of opinion, upon proper evidence, is no crime, and that every mind should be free to receive superior light; that dogmas are not the criterion of 140 APPENDIX. excellence, and that those opinions are best, which produce the best results. Mr Holley, as we have seen, was educated at Yale College, and received his religious impressions there, imbibing the prin- ciples of the Connecticut school, with all its peculiarities, at a time of unusual excitement, and when his own mind was par- ticularly enthusiastic. He received the Calvinistic system when to controvert it was a crime. That faith was considered the only true faith, and any modification of it, which did not, like that of Hopkins, render it still more austere, was thought sufficient to consign its author to everlasting punishment. It did, in fact, destroy him here, but it is grateful to reflect, that God, not man, rules hereafter. For the young student eager for divine things no choice was left. He had no opportunity for fair examination. He read but one side. It was not merely, ' Do you believe the scriptures,' but, ' Do you believe the prevalent system, which is the only road to heaven' It is no wonder that one of a liberal mind, which revolts at injustice and absurdity, should struggle hard in the conflict. He cannot, in all cases, nor for a very long time, subdue entirely every natural feeling and generous senti- ment. He will at length become disgusted with systems, break out from the rules of the schools, trust to his own powers, look with his own eyes, and think his own thoughts. Dissatisfied with such ex parte testimony, he will examine the whole ground of debate. He will see God as a kind, indulgent father, not as a merciless tyrant. He will feel in devotion a pure, holy, and benevolent sentiment, which is to regulate the actions, as well as to direct the heart to God. He will see in the impulses of fanaticism, passion forced out of its natural channel, wild and irregular in its course, and tending, like all excess, to no permanent good. From views deemed by many derogatory to God and his government, Mr Holley was soon emancipated. His mind, like the natural organ of vision, readily adapted itself to a more 141 extended range of observation. He did not shut his eyes to the more expanded view. Arrived in Boston, where all subjects werd freely discussed, where truth, not the interests of a sect, was sought for, mixing with the clergy of every denomination and mode of faith, learned and eloquent, and disposed to draw him into debate- a kind of warfare for which he had a taste as well as talent- his mind unfolded to a more extended view of Christianity. He saw that though one set of opinions might be right, another, in many respects different, need not of necessity be wholly wrong- they might agree in fundamentals-and that religion does not consist so much in thinking as in feeling and acting. He be- lieved that men are the creatures of God; that he exercises a moral government over them; that they are bound to worship him; and that they will be happy or miserable in every stage of their existence, according to the state of their affections and conduct. He believed the scriptures to be the rule of faith, but allowed of a variety of interpretation. As they were writ- ten for all nations, all climates, and all circumstances, and adapted to each, they could not justly be circumscribed by the peculiar interpretation of any man, or set of men; of a single church, village, or state. He was, probably, led to examine the subject sooner, by the exaggerated accounts which he had received of the opinions, manners, and morals, of those of the Boston clergy, who were called liberal, that epithet being used as synonymous with licentious. They were represented as intriguing and worldly, and as being neither religious nor moral. On becoming acquainted with their true character, he found them differing from the Orthodox, not only in being liberal, but in having, with as much learning, more simplicity of character, more inde- pendence, and more kindness. If they had less of the form and show of religion, it was with quite as much of the spirit. This was, he thought, as it should be. He was not afraid of responsibility, and did not hesitate to follow out his opinions, I 142 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. and defend them before the world, religion being designed, not only to fit us for another world, but to qualify us to live in this. As he never concealed anything, especially from selfish consid- erations, his new views of some points were sufficiently obvious, as was also a sense of the injustice manifested to his adopted brethren. In consequence, many of his former friends became either disaffected, or professed enemies. They did not, how- ever, disturb him, or excite in him any resentment or unkind feelings. He pursued the even tenor of his way, admired and beloved. Perhaps no preacher was more sought after, or obtained more entirely the respect and attention of his hearers. He labored to enlarge their understandings, and improve their moral condition. No man could more clearly unfold and illus- trate the loveliness and value of Christianity. All who heard him acknowledged that their hearts were made better; and it was not an expression of feeling merely-it was a conviction of the judgment. The following note to this effect, from one of his hearers, will be no unapt illustration of the sentiments of the rest. ' Permit me, dear sir, to offer you the language of my grati- tude and admiration for the bright and eloquent appeal which you made to our understandings and our hearts on Sunday evening, and to assure you, that I left the church a happier and better person. A spark of that celestial fire with which you were filled, communicated to my bosom a glow, which still animates and exalts me. That Divine Being, whose perfections you so beautifully portrayed, seemed to diffiuse through my mind a portion of its own pure spirit.' His sermons were generally extemporaneous, or, if written, were seldom finished, but left to be filled out by the suggestions of the moment. His method of composing, or of preparing them, was as follows. His mind, being ever active, was richly stored with information on all subjects. He never forgot anything he 143 had once learned, and he learned all things accurately and definitely. Whatever he read or saw in his walks during the week, was made tributary to his Sabbath exercises. Frequently a visit, or an accidental conversation with one of themselves, would furnish the train of thought upon which his hearers hung with intense interest, while its unconscious author, surprised and delighted, could easily follow in another a course of rea- soning, which he could not by himself pursue. Hence these sermons were always practical, always addressed to the heart and understanding; and hence, in part, their power. It was his custom to enter his study on Saturday evening, and remain there until a late hour, more for the purpose of reflec- tion than composition, to arrange the plan of a discourse, and to make notes. After a few hours sleep he was again in his study, when he would suffer no interruption, either for breakfast, or from any other circumstance. This was particularly the case when there was anything remarkable in the subject or the occasion. He then entered the church with his whole mind fired with his theme, and rivetted all attention for an hour or more, with scarcely a recurrence to his notes. If the evening service required a similar effort, he ate no dinner. If he dined he would take a familiar subject and treat it less elaborately, as he could not so soon again excite his mind to the necessary point of ardor when it had once been suffered to cool. He preferred, however, not to be interrupted until the services of the day were finished, when his mind still dwelt with pleasure on the thoughts which had so filled and engrossed it. It may be supposed that by so long an abstinence, and such a great and continued effort, considerable exhaustion was necessarily induced. It was then he enjoyed a social circle with his family, and two or three friends, who loved to discourse upon the strains of eloquence which had not yet died upon the ear, and whose salutary influence still warmed the heart, and excited the understanding. 144 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. Monday was always devoted to parochial visits, which were used as occasions for discovering what improvement of the discourse had been made by the devoted listeners of the pre- ceding day. This kind of intercourse suggested topics for other discourses. Persons in affliction or want were first attended to. The meanest were not neglected, all were benefited, all had lessons of instruction and pleasure. The other members of his parish had different portions of the week devoted to them, and thus a new stock of materials was gathered for the coming sabbath. But let us listen to his own words on this subject, in a letter to a friend;- 'Monday, you know, with a clergyman, is a day more than any other in the week given up to those pursuits and contem- plations that are most agreeable to his feelings. Sunday, being no sabbath to him, and Monday being most distant from his returning labor, he indulges his heart in ease, in visiting, in poetry, in thinking of friends, or in anything else that may give play to the benevolent affectiois, and refresh the mind after a season of severe exertion. The force of this I feel very sensibly at this moment; and indeed should be rather melan- choly, were it not that I wish to set you an example of resolu- tion, and have a stimulus to my spirits in the brightening prospect before us. Yesterday was a very rainy, bad day, and yet the audience was quite large, and I believe they did not go away dissatisfied. They were very attentive indeed. The text in the morning was, "I am made all things to all men;" and, in in the afternoon, " Which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of man, but of God." The former gave rise to a discourse on christian prudence as distinguished from double-dealing, especially in a minister; the latter, to a discussion of God's agency in changing the heart.' His mornings were spent in intense study, for everything with him was intense, and his evenings devoted to the current litera- 19 145 APPENDIX. ture, which he read aloud to his family, and to the enjoyments of society and conversation, which were made subservient to the objects on which his mind was acting in his retirement. Thus the fruits of his studious hours were brought into society, and thus, also, society, in its turn, added its contributions to the stores of his intellect and taste. His occasional sermons were generally composed with care, and written out. Of these several remain, and may hereafter be offered to the public. The following facts will show the effect of these sermons, and the popularity of their author. They will also show his thorough knowledge of the human character, especially of the various and discrepant shades of opinion which necessarily attach to different individuals, and the prompitude and address with which he was able to turn against others the weapons they had prepared for his own annoyance;- 'The edifice, of wood, in which Mr Holley commenced his pastoral labors in Boston, was soon removed to Braintree, to make way for a more spacious and commodious brick church, adapted to the rapidly increasing congregation. The former building was put into excellent repair, and a day appointed for its re-dedication, together with the ordination of a new pastor, whose sentiments were decidedly Calvinistic. The society in Braintree invited Mr Holley to preach the dedicatory sermon, while several clergymen, whose opinions were in sympathy with those of the pastor elect, were engaged to take part in the ordi- nation services. These gentlemen, alarmed at the celebrity of Mr Holley, and dreading the counter-influence which his preaching would exert against their own, called on him in a body, a very short time previous to the day appointed, and requested him to decline performing the service for which he was engaged. Mr Holley expressed great surprise at their request, and begged to know on what ground it was made. They replied, the ground was distinctly this; that he was not a believer in the divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ, and that therefore they could not con- 146 APPENDIX. scientiously unite. in a joint service with him on that occasion. After some remarks on the difficulty, if not impossibility, of ever procuring perfect uniformity of opinion among those who engaged in the services on such occasions, Mr Holley said, " Pray, gentlemen, let me inquire if your own belief on this sub- ject is so mutually correspondent as you imagine, and as would fairly justify you in making of me this unusual request. Does each of you firmly and unequivocally believe, that the being called Jesus Christ, who lived, and walked about, and ate, and drank, and died, on this earth, was verily the eternal God, the great First Cause of all things" On their at first hesitating to reply, he addressed himself separately to each of them, and received different answers from them all. One of them pro- fessed not to be exactly prepared to answer the question; another said he did not entirely believe in the divinity of Christ according to the terms stated by Mr Holley; another declared, that he believed it in a certain sense; while the fourth unhesi- tatingly said, " Yes, I believe that he was very God of very God." "Very well, gentlemen," replied Mr Holley; "you see that your own minds are as yet far from agreeing on this subject, and if you will take your own time to discuss it, and let me know when you all perfectly coincide, I will then be ready to make my answer to your proposal." They retired in silence, but they never again called upon him for a similar purpose.' Mr Holley was not only active and distinguished in parochial duties, but in his profession generally he was eminent. Having a degree of moral courage beyond what was common, he gave his influence unhesitatingly to what he considered the cause of truth, not by forcing mystical dogmas upon the minds of the simple, but by rendering all subjects plain and intelligible, sup- porting his clear convictions by the clearest argument. No fears for himself, in any part of his life, ever influenced him to envelope plain and simple subjects in obscurity. The beauty 147 APPENDIX. and simplicity of truth he always insisted on, and maintained that, like all loveliness, it needed not foreign aid. To discover in what it consisted was his constant endeavour, and no mind was ever more sincere and direct. What he believed, he examined, felt, expressed, and acted upon. Besides his various pastoral and ministerial duties, Mr Holley took a lively interest in the affairs of the town. He was an active member of the School Committee, and of many other useful associations; was always at his post as a member of the Board of Overseers of Harvard University, and of various literary, scientific, and benevolent institutions, in aid of which he contributed not only money, but his time and his eloquence; and was ever associated with the foremost in promoting objects of public utility. Whatever he undertook he engaged in with all his might. The remaining members of these associations publicly acknowledged his services and lamented his loss; and there are not wanting those who still remember, with mingled sentiments of pleasure and regret, the interest he took in literary and scientific enterprises of every description, and the encour- agement and kindness he was ever ready to bestow on deserv- ing young men. His colloquial powers were unrivalled. In the language of one who knew and admired his rare gifts, ' He had a habit of minute observation, an extreme facility and clearness of expres- sion, which rendered his conversation at once delightful and in- structive. He would force the faculties of all into active ser- vice, and compel them to exertion. The only thing that diminished the charm of his society was an uncomfortable sense of inferiority, which his conversation sometimes imposed on the mind. He illustrated his subject with facility and grace, and seemed to have thought and reasoned so long and so well on everything, as to have left nothing unthought and unsaid. His fancy, chaste, and glowing with the freshness of morning, color- ed all objects with its own pure and mellow lustre.' 148 APPENDIX. In society his influence was universal. Greeted everywhere as a man of taste, he was the life of literary conversation. He united the dignity of the divine with the urbanity of the gentleman. He was remarkable for promoting at once cheerfulness and thought. To the young and the aged, he was equally accessi- ble-they were equally his admirers and friends. No person could be long in his company without feeling all the faculties of his mind set in motion. Whatever was the topic, new illustra- tions were drawn out. He engaged the attention of others, be- cause their own powers were brought into action, and they were interested in their own emotions. Hence he was welcomed by all, and on all occasions. There was no dulness in his pres- ence. His natural activity, both mental and bodily, together with his love of observation, led him to make frequent excursions, and long journeys. One of these, a visit to the Catskill Mountains, he describes in a very graphical manner, giving a lively picture of the Cascade, before it had become a place of resort. But the most interesting of his tours was that to Niagara Falls, in com- pany with a few friends, which threatened for a time to have been fatal in its consequences, and to have made our story more brief, though not so melancholy, as it will shortly become. That journey being now the common course for all who travel, and the facilities for travelling having so increased that a jour- ney at this time is not so wonderful an event as it was then, and Niagara, with all the intermediate stages, having become the hackneyed theme of so many tourists, a description in this place may be dispensed with. Such incidents, however, as illustrate character, cannot fail to be interesting. Besides Mr Holley, this travelling party consisted of three ladies, all actuated by eager and liberal curiosity, with minds alive to every object of interest, and regardless of fatigue and privation in the pursuit of so rational a gratification. It being the year after our late war with Great Britain, and the route lying in part along the frontier among its still recent ravages, whose details were 149 yet as fresh upon the tongue as visible in the dwellings and re- sources of the inhabitants, this rare qualification in ladies was very often called into exercise. Buffalo, Black Rock, Erie, Chippewa, Bridgewater, and Manchester, did not then furnish such comfortable lodgings and well spread tables; nor the routes between them, such smooth roads and commodious conveyances, as now bid defiance to complaint or weariness, even in the most delicate, luxurious, and fastidious, whether of domestic or foreign origin. It was, moreover, very hot weather, in the month of July. The consequence was that some of the company, and among them Mr Holley, were seized with the disease of the lakes. The state of his mind, during this critical situation, is thus described by one who was a con- stant witness, and through whose kind and unremitting attentions, with Heaven's blessing, his life was preserved. 'Mr Holley possessed uncommon energy and promptness of decision. He was also calm and self-possessed in cases of emergency and danger. Many instances of this occur to my recollection; one in particular, with which, at the time, you were unacquainted, when you were both so ill at Niagara. ' While suffering with a very painful and disheartening dis- ease, in circumstances peculiarly aggravating, and aware that his situation was critical, Mr Holley's patience and even cheer- fulness did not forsake him. With composure and resignation, he made such arrangements as would be desirable in the event of his death. He exhibited the same bright and unhesitating hope of a future life which he had before been often heard to express. His confidence in this and in the goodness and mercy of God, enabled him to look on death without dismay. He used often to say that the doctrine of immortality should be a clear and abiding principle in the mind, familiar in the season of health and prosperity, or it would not sustain it in the hour of trial; and he was himself an example of its cheering influ- ence, at the approach of danger, upon one with whom it has 150 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. long been the intimate thought, the habitual anticipation of the soul.' That Mr Holley could consent to leave so brilliant a sphere, and one to which he was so peculiarly adapted, as that which he filled in the metropolis of New England, unless his fancy and his hopes painted still brighter scenes in the West, is hard to be understood. Such a step almost persuades us to yield to the superstition, that there is connected with man a principle of fatalism by which each individual is led on to the accomplish- ment of his destiny. Whether such anticipations were realized, remains to be told by one more equal to the task. The writer can never forget the tears, and lamentations, and everlasting regrets-sad indeed in the retrospect, and still fresh in the heart. The pangs inflict- ed by the occurrences of that period, and the scenes which have followed, although other scenes and events may soften them, no time or change can entirely remove. The extracts which follow, from letters written by Mr Holley in Kentucky during a tour of observation, will explain the above mystery and illustrate some remarks in another part of this vol- ume. 'Lexington, JMay 27th, 1818. 'I wrote a hasty letter to you on the night of my arrival. I shall now be able to speak a little more in detail. ' The town and the vicinity are very handsome. The streets are broad, straight, paved, clean, and have rows of trees on each side. The houses are of brick almost universally, many of them in the midst of fields, and have a very rural and charm- ing appearance. The taste is for low houses, generally two, sometimes even but one story high, like English cottages. This taste gives an effect that eyes accustomed to the high buildings of an Atlantic city, where there is but little room, are not at first pleased with. But it is a taste adapted to the circumstan- 151 1APPENDIX. ces, and to me is not unpleasant. The town is handsomer than I expected, and has a more comfortable and genteel aspect. It has not the pretension without the reality, that so many of the small towns have through which I have passed. 'I have taken lodgings at the principal hotel of the place, where I have a drawingroom to receive calls, which were yes- terday until dinner almost innumerable. It was immediately known that I had arrived, and the citizens turned out in suffi- cient numbers to make their greeting as cordial as I could wish, and to convince me that the opposition to my appointment here is nothing. Everything is done that can be done to gratify me with the prospect before me. -The committee of arrangements for a dinner in honor of Mr Clay, conclude an invitation to me to attend it in this manner;-" They are pleased with an op- portunity afforded of greeting you on your safe arrival in Lex- ington, and of tendering to you their sentiments of esteem and regard." They brought me the invitation in person. This I mention, not because it is anything extraordinary, but because it will aid you to enter at once into my situation and circum- stances, and will produce a distinct impression. In the after- noon I walked about town with Mr Clay, and called at a few charming houses. I visited also the Atheneum, an institution not yet furnished with many books, but well supplied with news- papers, and the best periodicals. I find everything of this sort, which is valuable, from Boston and the other Atlantic cities. 'This morning I breakfasted at Mr Clay's, who, lives a mile and a half from town. He arrived here only three days be- fore me. Ashland is a very pleasant place, handsomer than I anticipated. The grounds are beautiful, the lawns and walks extensive, the shrubbery luxuriant, and the garden well supplied. The native forest of ash in the rear adds a'charming effect to the whole. After breakfast Mr Clay rode in with me, and we went with the trustees, by appointment, to the college, to visit the professors and students. They were all collected in the largest hall to receive us. I made a short address, which was received 152 APPENDIX. in a kind manner. I was then conducted to the library, the apparatus, and the recitation rooms. The library is small, and the apparatus smaller. There is no regular division of students into classes as in other colleges, and but few laws. Everything is to be done, and so much the better, as nothing is to be re- formed. Almost the whole is proposed to be left to me to arrange. I am now making all necessary inquiries, and a meet- ing of the trustees is to be called next week. 'After this visit, I went with a party of ladies and gentlemen, nine miles into the country to the seat of Colonel Mead, where we dined and passed the day. This gentleman, who is near seventy, is a Virginian of the old school. He has been a good deal in England, in his youth, and brought home with him En- glish notions of a country seat, though he -is a great republican in politics. He and his wife dress in the costume of the olden time. He has the square coat and great cuffs, the vest of the court, short breeches, and white stockings, at all times. Mrs Mead has the long waist, the white apron, the stays, the ruffles about the elbows, and the cap of half a century ago. She is very mild and ladylike, and though between sixty and seventy, plays Upon the piano-forte with the facility and cheerfulness of a young lady. Her husband resembles Colonel Pickering in the face, and the shape of the head. He is entirely a man of lei- sure, never having followed any business, and never using his fortune but in adorning his place and entertaining his friends and strangers. No word is ever sent to him that company is coming. To do so offends him. But a dinner-he dines at the hour of four-is always ready for visiters; and servants are always in waiting. Twenty of us went out to day, without warning, and were entertained luxuriously on the viands of the country. Our drink consisted of beer, toddy, and water. Wine, being imported and expensive, he never gives; nor does he allow cigars to be smoked in his presence. His house con- sists of a cluster of rustic cottages, in front of which spreads a beautiful, sloping lawn, as smooth as velvet. From this diverge, 20 153 APPENDIX. in various directions, and forming vistas terminated by pictur- esque objects, groves and walks extending over some acres. Seats, Chinese temples, verdant banks, and alcoves are inter- spersed at convenient distances. The lake, over which presides a Grecian temple, that you may imagine to be the residence of the water nymphs, has in it a small island, which communicates with the shore by a white bridge of one arch. The whole is surrounded by a low rustic fence of stone, surmounted and almost hidden by honeysuckle and roses, now in full flower, and which we gathered in abundance to adorn the ladies. Everything is laid out for walking and pleasure. His farm he rents, and does nothing for profit. The whole is in rustic taste. You enter from the road, through a gate between rude and mas- sive columns, a field without pretension, wind a considerable distance through a noble park to an inner gate, the capitals to whose pillars are unique, being formed of the roots of trees, carved by nature. Then the rich scene of cultivation, of ver- dure and flower-capped hedges, bursts upon you. There is no establishment like this in our country. Instead of a descrip- tion, I might have given you its name, " Chaumire du Prairies." 'This morning many more of the citizens of Lexington have called on me. Among them were a Presbyterian, a Baptist, and a Methodist clergyman. The Rev. Mr Ward, of the Episcopal church, has asked me to preach in his pulpit, and the Methodist minister has also invited me to preach in his. The Presbyterian clergyman has been one of my chief opposers. I am not able yet to say what course he will take in regard to me and the University. No opposition as yet manifests itself. At present all is harmony. ' I am now in one of the most important and responsible periods of my life. All my judgment and all my disinterested- ness are put in requisition. I am to hear all opinions, to con- template all prospects and alternatives, to reconcile all sects, to unite duty and expediency, to adapt myself to little minds with -154 APPENDIX. their prejudices, and to hold my march with great minds and their comprehensive objects; to look at Boston, and to examine and understand Kentucky. I am cool and calm, but I have enough to craze a nervous man. My nerves, however, are yet firm, and my career produces no vertigo. I wish much to be with you, but that is impossible. I cannot now balk an enter- prise into which I am so far entered, which has cost me so much time and money, which is connected with so many sacri- fices of ease and comfort, and which is leading to results that will be glorious in success, or painful in defeat. I must on to the end of it. 'Monday afternoon I went with some gentlemen of this town to Versailles, twelve miles from Lexington. The Circuit Court was sitting, and I became acquainted with the Judge, the Attor- ney General, and many other gentlemen, lawyers, merchants, and farmers, interested in the prosperity of education in the State. My object, you know, is to learn the opinions and feel- ings of the considerable people of Kentucky, concerning the University. All these persons are friendly to the institution, and give me good reason to believe they will cooperate with me in building it up. Versailles is a pleasant village, the shire town of Woodford County, well built, with fine land about it. ' From this place we went, next morning, fourteen miles, to Frankfort to breakfast. Frankfort is the capital of the State, though a smaller town than Lexington. It is surrounded by hills, and is in a deep basin. It was sportively compared by Mr Poletica, the Russian Minister, to a city in a hat crown. It is well built, and the principal street is paved. The Ken- tucky runs through it, and the banks are very high. Beautiful marble is dug on the shores, and wrought in the Penitentiary. The Court of Appeals is sitting, and Judge Todd, of the United States Court, is also holding a session there. After breakfast I took a room at the public house, and was not able to leave it till after dinner, it being known that I was there. The judges, 156 with many other gentlemen, called on me. I conversed with them all on the subject of the college, and found the same har- mony of sentiment, and the same promise of cooperation which I found at Lexington. In the afternoon I called on Governor Slaughter, and found him going to church with three of the Baptist clergymen of the State. Mr Vardeman is the most popular preacher of this order in Kentucky, and it was his lec- ture. He immediately asked me to preach it for him, which I of course declined, as the meeting was called for him. The Governor is a Baptist. I went with them, and, by Mr Varde- man's request, sat in the pulpit. When he had finished his discourse, he turned to me and asked me to close the services, which I did, and made a number of remarks upon the principal points of his sermon, bearing my testimony to their importance, and urging a regard to the principles of morality and piety. I offered a prayer after my remarks. We all then returned to the Governor's house. Mr Vardeman was pleased, and promised me his support of the college, and said he believed his sect would generally support it. The Governor has promised me to recommend it very strongly to the next Legislature for patronage, if I accept of the presidency, and has asked me to make any suggestions to him on the subject, which I think important. I am persuaded that the Baptists will come in. I met afterward the Presbyterian clergyman of the place, and had some conversation with him on the subject that now engages me entirely. 'The trustees meet tomorrow, and some resolutions will be taken preparatory to my decision. As soon as that is made, I shall let you know it. It will probably be necessary to decide before I leave the State; at least, necessary on account of good policy in regard to the interests of the University. The impor- tance of the position has advanced in my mind in proportion to my inquiries and knowledge of the state of the country. If I decide before I leave Kentucky, I shall write to the parish im- 156 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. mediately. I shall keep them in suspense not a moment after my own suspense is past. 'On Saturday the Trustees of Transylvania met, and I appeared before them and addressed them. All parties bar- monized, and every vote passed unanimously. The Board adjourned for three weeks to meet again and receive my answer. I shall visit two or three towns of consequence in the mean time, and shall then make up my mind. The salary was fixed permanently at three thousand dollars. This salary is liberal, and is offered with earnestness and unanimity. It is to commence the moment I accept of the appointment, although I shall not return from Boston until November or December, if I choose to accept the office. The fees for diplomas are in addition to the salary. I am left at perfect liberty to take such part of the instruction as I like, and to model the institution at my discretion. 'Yesterday morning I attended church with Dr Fishback, a Baptist minister. He asked me into the pulpit with him, and when his sermon was ended, he requested me to close the service. I did so, and made a number of remarks as I had done at Frankfort. The effect was favorable, and the Baptists are manifesting their kindness toward the college as it is ex- pected to be under my care. I shall tell my mother of this, who, you know, is the daughter of a Baptist clergyman. At five in the afternoon I preached in the Episcopal church to an immense audience, that filled not only the seats, but the aisles. I took up the trinity and gave them all the theories, proving that the doctrine of one God, is, and has been, the doctrine of Christians by a great majority in all ages. I have not heard that any were alarmed, but all the Orthodox appear to be satis- fied with my views, and that they may cooperate with me. Persons came from the neighbouring towns, eager to learn whether I am a heretic or not. As I am no heretic, they went 157 away satisfied, I hope, of the truth. You know I said, in Bos- ton; that my views of the trinity would be the most popular of any in our country, when they were explained to the public fully. This I have found to be true thus far, and am more perfectly convinced of it the more opportunity I have to observe. Next Sunday I am to preach for the minister of the Associate Reformed church, the same with that to which Dr Mason, of New York, belongs. He called upon me this morning and told me what he had done. In consequence of my being at the head of the university, and thus, in some measure, at the fountainhead of all the churches in the State, he told his peo- ple that an exception to their general rule ought to be made in my favor, and that I might be invited to preach in their church, although no one out of their order had ever been permitted to do so. The session voted to ask me unanimously, after a week's deliberation. Thus I am to preach in a pulpit where not even an English Presbyterian would be allowed to enter. Belonging to no sect is of some advantage, notwithstanding it was intended by so many that I should stand alone. All things go on well in regard to the college, public sentiment is becom- ing very much united, and is rightly directed. The prospect is brightening for my enterprise. 'The climate here is delightful, the days fair, and the nights cool. I am very little exhausted by my labors. My health has not been of a firmer character for years. Yesterday, how- ever, we had a warm rain, the church was crowded, and my long sermon, delivered extemporaneously, fatigued me consid- erably. I preached in one of the Presbyterian churches, Mr McChord's, by the invitation of the elders of the session, the minister himself doubting whether he ought to invite me, but consenting to the invitation unanimously given by the elders. The popular impulse upon this subject, forces the ministers along, and tile houses of worship are all opening their doors to me. Your presentiments are gloomy; mine are full of life, 158 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. action, and hope. The same good Providence which has hith- erto buoyed me, buoys me up still, and I push for my mark almost sure of making the very centre of my object. My purposes go on well here, and the field opens every day. 1 shall be impartial and disinterested in the decision that I make. My feelings say at once, and without any drawback, " Stay in Boston;" but duty and extent of usefulness say, "Consider Kentucky well before you abandon it, and look forward to the minds that you may form, and the good that you may do." I have not yet determined, nor will I, until I get at the very core of public sentiment, and see clearly the prospect before me. 'The proofs of cordial cooperation are multiplying. I have been over the new college building, which is large and com- modious. The field is very large before me, and letters have been received in town giving information that two hundred students are ready to come here if I accept of the appointment. Rev. Mr McChord, who has been an opposer, and who made a speech against me in the Board of Overseers formerly, who was a trustee, and who is a Presbyterian, spent a good while with me this morning. He took me by the hand and as- sured me that he is no longer an opposer, and that I may be assured that he will no longer take a part against me. He seems to be my friend, and I believe him sincere. The im- portance of this appointment rises in my estimation every day. There is reason to hope that I can unite -the sects and the parties in favor of the college, and push it up very high. My present impressions are more strong toward an acceptance than they have ever been. I am greatly impressed with the idea that it is my duty to come here, and that more students can be got here than at any college in the United States. My mind is now loaded with this subject, and I do not go to sleep easily. 'Dinners are made nearly every day for me, and there is a party almost every evening. But attentions of this sort, how- ever agreeable, and however flattering to my self-love, do not 159 bias my mind. I look at the question with a totally different set of associations, and am governed by considerations which are capable of a clear definition and a distinct weight. The road which I am now pursuing, is the most direct one to useful power, to honorable fame, to the attainment of public confidence, and to the full application of all my faculties. You will not only be contented in Lexington, but you will be pleased and delighted. I love society as much as you do-an affirmation you will well understand-and I am as little likely to be fond of solitude and obscurity. If I were not well convinced that we should be happy in Kentucky, I would not come. But we shall be. We shall be more independent than we have ever been, and modes of influence will be opened to us, which we could not enjoy at the head of a parish merely, in any coun- try. It is much better to be a rallying point for all the sects, than to be a partisan of either, however powerful that sect might be. But no sect in this country can swallow up the others. They must continue to check and balance each other, and leave to wise men an opportunity for full and safe inquiry. 'You may make your power and efforts very valuable, and most extensively useful in various ways. Our house will be a place of resort for persons of the best mind in the region, for the students of most promising talents, for the professors, for resident graduates whom we may wish to encourage, for stran- gers of distinction, and for all who shall have any claims to literature, refinement, manners, music, and accomplishment. The materials here, as Mr King observed, are in a very plastic state, and can be moulded into the most beautiful forms. The basis of character by nature is excellent. The metal is good, and will take any shape that a skilful artist will give it. All the ambi- tion and ardor are here that are necessary to carry mind to any degree of elevation and excellence. There will be a unanimity of sentiment and operation that nothing could secure but that real and permanent catholicism in religion and politics, which I cherish, and which you know I have been a good while ob- 160 APPEND)IX. APPENDIX. taining and confirming. I belong to no set of prejudices, or obstinate and silly peculiarities; and for this very good reason, that I have tried them all, and found them nonsense, by ex- perience. I shall take, or rather shall continue, for I have already taken, the high ground which is most agreeable to my philoso- phy, an elevation entirely above local and sectarian feelings and views, and one that carries me on in a more pure and elastic atmosphere, and allows me to look down upon the competition of parties, not with contempt or hatred, but with good nature, with a very useful common sense, and with calmness and bold- ness enough to use the whole for the common good. My philosophy and Catholicism are too deep, and have grown out of too much reflection, to be easily shaken. The habit of metaphysical reasoning, which I formed in early life, does me essential service now, and enables me to avoid all trouble with the technical theologians with whom I meet. You know that metaphysics with me have long been modified by common sense and sentiment, and I now keep up the art of disputation for the real uses which it lends me in favor of genuine catholic- ism. 'I write thus to you, because you will want to know the manner in which my mind views this subject, and how I expect to make myself useful and successful in the midst of such heterogeneous minds and interests. The single fact that I am of no party, is of the greatest service to me. 'Yesterday I preached to an overflowing house at the Scotch Presbyterian church. My sermon was on heaven, such as you have heard from me in Boston. This is a prodigious stretch of liberality on the part of the minister and his people, who have been proverbial for the rigor of their notions con- cerning christian connexions, and every act of fellowship. It is considered as an era in the town, and the good old gentleman, the clergyman, showed me some anonymous letters which he had received concerning it. But he is firm in his course, and 21 161 declares himself my friend, and the friend of the college at all hazards. ' The two great divisions of the Baptists have both invited me to preach for them, and will both support the college. They will send their children, and consent to appropriations of money by the Legislature. All things continue to go on well, and there can be no doubt that it is my duty as a philanthropist to accept of the station which is offered to me here. I believe it is in my power to do more good in this regioq than in any other at this moment. My life has not been half so useful in Boston, though it has been of some value there, as I am persuaded it will be in Lexington. I love the parish of Hollis Street with- out limits, and the -more earnestly as I am soon to leave them permanently. They have treated me well, and have' always done nobly, and are as good a parish as can be found in the world. I shall have a long and interesting story to tell them when I get home; a story in which I know they will see objects as I do, and acknowledge the propriety of my decision. For the sole purpose of doing good, I had rather be at the head of this institution than at the head of any Eastern college. The field is wider, the harvest more abundant, and the grain of a most excellent quality. I may become what you call a martyr, but it is not my intention to be one. I shall make a sacrifice in many things, but I shall do my duty, and if I meet with suc- cess it will be glorious. I am not about to bury myself, nor take my talents, humble as they are, from an active and con- spicuous sphere. This whole Western country is to feed my seminary, which will send out lawyers, physicians, clergymen, statesmen, poets, orators, and savans, who will make the nation feel them. It is a great opening, and I should be pusillanimous to shrink from it, on account of the sacrifices I shall make in the refinements of society, and the breaking up of connexions, how- ever dear to my heart. The course I am pursuing is a high and honorable one, entirely above the region of the clouds and storms of sects, and in a clear and pure day. I breathe an APPENDIX. 162 APPENDIX. atmosphere more agreeable to me in the large view that I take, than I have breathed before. I am now in an enterprise adapted to my character and my ambition. There is enough of hazard, of effort, of difficulty, and of height, to excite and occupy all the powers of my mind. I shall act upon more minds than any man on this side of the mountains, and shall reach more sympathies. My personal objects will be the objects of the community. ' A great inquiry is made of me, " How you will like my de- termination " I answer always that you will leave Boston with reluctance and pain, but that you will follow my fortunes cheer- fully and perseveringly. I am not deceived by the gala dress of Lexington, as you suggest, but understand the people pretty well for the time that I have been among them. Letters that you will receive before this, will show you some of the princi- ples on which I accept the appointment. Neither society, nor country, nor position, nor any expectation of increased happi- ness, is my reason. But the field is broader; the object higher; the employment more full; and the chance of honorable fame, and of extensive usefulness, better. We shall be happy enough no doubt, and we shall be more independent. The salary is large and a church is offered me with another salary if I choose to accept of it. My mind is of some importance, I hope, any- where, but not less here than elsewhere. We shall be better provided for, and our prospects in all respects more brilliant. I shall have more objects here, and more excitement. ' In regard to Boston you want to refresh my mind, but you need not. I know already that no place in our country is bet- ter, or handsomer, or wiser, or happier. No scenery is so beautiful. That about Lexington is inferior, though the soil is far richer. There is endless variety in the vicinity of Boston, and nothing equals it in the Union. The climate here is better, but not much. These are not the considerations which move me. My imagination is not absorbent of my judgment. I am cool, but clear and decided about my course. I shall accept of the appointment.' 4L 163 APPENDIX. Mr Holley had received two invitations to become the Presi- dent of Transylvania, with a considerable interval between them. The first did not much gain upon his attention. The second came with so much authority and pretension and promise and plausibility, that he was induced to listen to the proposal, and to undertake a journey which would be interesting in its course, if not satisfactory in its results. He set off in March, stopping in Philadelphia, and in the city of Washington, where, during a visit of two weeks, he became acquainted with many distin- guished characters, and where he was pronounced a model for pulpit eloquence. He took the route through Virginia, a State he knew but by reputation, and visited Richmond and Monti- cello. The journey was exhilarating, invigorating his health, and exciting his mind to activity and enterprise. He was all enthusiasm himself, and was received with enthusiasm by the people of Kentucky. Well prepared to enter upon a scene of duty and hazard, but anticipating no evil, he accepted of the situation, and immediately prepared to commence his labors. It only remained to break up his connexion in Boston, a task of no ordinary trial. He immediately informed the church and society in Hollis Street of his determination, leaving them free to settle another minister, and travelled rapidly home to make the necessary preparations for his departure with his family, now increased by the birth of a son in his absence, as it had been by that of his daughter, under similar circumstances, ten years before. The baptism of this son by his own name, was one of the last ceremonies performed by him in his own church. The high-minded society, who worship there, contemplated the separation from their pastor with regret and sorrow, but they mourned in silence. Such an appeal had been made to their magnanimity, their sense of propriety and duty, that they considered the event as a bereavement that was to be submitted to like any other inevitable occurrence. Mr Holley drew up for them an elaborate view of his motives, plans, and hopes, which left them no objection to make to the separation, though it was 164 APPENDIX. painful in the extreme to their feelings. It was like an affection- ate family parting with a favorite son. The ceremony of dismissal was passed through, and we have only to speak of the farewell discourse. To this we cannot do justice. It was not merely touch- ing, it was sublime. Not only was that large church, which had been erected and consecrated for him, filled in every seat and every aisle, but the entrance, the steps, and even a part of the street, was crowded with people. All were in tears. That beautiful hymn, by Miss Helen Maria Williams, ' Whilst thee I seek, protecting Power,' was sung to close the service, with a force and feeling, which, to many hearts, will render it sacred forever. Private leave-takings were not less sad, but they were en- dured, and the President elect, and his family, with two young gentlemen, distinguished alumni of Harvard University, pro- ceeded to Kentucky, in September. We will close this part of our brief and imperfect sketch, in the language of one whose intellectual superiority enables him to appreciate, as well as to cherish a brother's fame, and to whose pen these pages are already much indebted ;- ' My attachment to the person and memory of my brother will not be satisfied without a parting word to his character, as connected especially with the native attributes of his heart and mind; those qualities, which were born with him, as distinct from those which he acquired, and for the sake of which his relatives and friends gave him, thoroughout all his life, their love and admiration. In the words of our eldest brother in a letter to me, I may say, " Of his honesty, frankness, ingenuous- ness, and magnanimity; of his true, and proper, and high sense of honor, with every other good quality that can adorn and elevate the character of man, I need say nothing to you, who knew them as well, and felt them as strongly as I did. I con- sider his death as a loss, not only to his family and friends, but 165 APPENDIX. to the nation and to the world. I think there are very few men whose minds are so highly cultivated, so well disciplined, and so well balanced, as his was, and still fewer whose affections were so pure and so well directed." As a child, he was of a cheerful, social temper, full of lively emotions and ready sym- pathies, docile and tractable; and he grew up a frank, ingenuous boy, of a free and zealous spirit, and generous nature, deriving the force of his character from the warmth of his affections, not from the violence of his passions, and remarkable for the direct- ness and sincerity of his purposes. The man was like the boy. I never knew an individual, whose character, not only in its essential elements, but even in its external form and complex- ion, underwent less change than his, in passing from childhood to maturity; or whose feelings, in spite of intercourse with the world, and the misconstruction of adversaries, retained in man- hood, so much of the freshness, and elasticity, and kindly tone of youth. In my soul I do not believe the man ever lived, who loved truth, in all its forms, intellectual and moral, speculative and practical, more sincerely than he did; or to whom it was a higher positive pleasure to see it spread. ' The last time I saw my brother, the promising youth of whom I have spoken, was become a distinguished man. The promise had been richly fulfilled. He was strong in health, and high in honor. His name had gone throughout the land, as of one who possessed high gifts, who was endowed with power to sway the thoughts of men, and who had won the ad- miration of many communities; and when I look back on his life and character, when I recall the many proofs of affection which I have received from him, the many exhibitions of his fine talents that I have witnessed; the admiring regards that I have seen fixed on him in the full congregation-his bright image rises warm and breathing before me, and I cannot realize that he is gone from the earth.' 166 167 NOTE B. 'But much more enthusiastic and engrossing,' 4.c. p. 13. THAT the reader may have some idea of Dr Holley's strength and acuteness, as a philologist, he is presented, in this note, with a paper written by him, in 1820, and published in the Western Review, entitled, ' The Imperfection of Language.' It is but justice, however, to remark, that the article, although an able one, is not written in the best style of the deceased. 'Although language is one of the best gifts of Heaven to man, it is inadequate to express all our conceptions and emotions. Such thoughts and feelings as arise in the ordinary intercourse of society, it enables us to communicate to each other with tolerable success, though not with absolute precision. Mutual mistakes are constantly springing from the ambiguity and in- sufficiency of the words, which we are compelled to use in our social transactions. It is not in the nature of language to ex- clude ambiguity, or to supersede the necessity of employing our faculties attentively and candidly in order to ascertain the real meaning of discourse, in speech or in writing. It was never designed that this great instrument of our improvement should be an encourager of mental sloth, as it would be, were it with- out ambiguity, or diversity of meaning. The ideas, conveyed by words, are many or few, in proportion to the degree of literary intelligence which may be possessed by the individuals concerned. The same sentences suggest a prodigious diversity of thoughts to different readers or hearers. Sometimes a book is full of meaning to one man, and is yet a blank to another. ' Language is indeed a means of thinking, as well as of com- municating thoughts; still, we have both thoughts and feelings before we have words. It is doubtful whether language would be developed in a human creature raised in such a degree of solitude as to have no fellow being with whom to converse and sympathize; but there is no doubt that a multitude of thoughts and feelings would be developed in his mind. Things them- selves would furnish conceptions and call out emotions, with which his faculties could act, and from which he could derive a great variety of results. Systematic reasoning, the abstractions necessary to classification, and the arrangement of scientific in- vestigations, demand words that they may be recorded and communicated to others, and even that the mind itself may go far in this kind of labor. Of sensible objects, however, we can have ideas without words, and can compare them, and perform many operations concerning them, with nothing but our unnamed conceptions. Innumerable miscellaneous thoughts and feelings pass through the mind, which are never defined by words, never reduced to a visible or audible character in language. The habit of putting our thoughts and feelings into words is acquired, and does not, in its most perfect state, extend to all our conceptions and emotions. The most we can expect from words is, that they shall serve as hints, or occasions, to call out in other minds similar operations to those which are going on in our own. The delicate and exact parts of our meaning or feeling, must be left to be gathered from expressions of a gen- eral nature, which may or may not lead our fellow creatures to the precise results that we wish. There are some arts, which have so little connexion with words, that their pleasures are en- joyed through life by such as never undertake in any way to define them. The tongue and the pen are limited to the dic- tionary; but sounds, colors, odors, sensations, and associations, can speak to the soul, even with rapture, where the terms of the vocabulary can say nothing. M68 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. I Words are arbitrary signs of ideas, and of course can be of no service to him who has not learned the connexion, which is established by custom, or who has not had within himself the experience necessary to feel their power. Such words as gratitude, love, revenge, jealousy, remorse, homesickness, the loss of a parent, wife, or first-born, convey impressions, and excite emotions, which are immensely different in different minds, according to the actual experience of one, or the mere speculative knowledge of another. Under the influence of strong feeling, words are always tame, and frequently offensive. We must become calm, at least comparatively, before we can employ them with complacency. We may trace many of the disputes of the world to the incompetency of language to ex- press accurately and fully the meanings of the mind. All the subjects of taste, of moral sentiment, and of religious feeling, are eminently exposed to difficulty on this account. Refined people can never agree with those who are coarse; the pure and delicate can never be understood by the sensual and ob- scene; and tender consciences can never make the hardened and seared enter into their scruples and distresses. ' In their best state, words may be compared to the keys of a musical instrument with strings. If the strings are perfect, and in harmony, a tune will be produced when the keys are properly struck; but if the strings are imperfect either in quality or number, or are not in harmony, the keys may be struck in vain by the most skilful hand; no music can be produced upon them. Words bear a similar relation to the mind. If the ca- pacities, the experiences, the feelings, are within, words will excite them; but if the feelings are not there, if the capacities of one mind fall far short of those of another, if the same sort of emotions or experiences be not found in the breasts of those who wish to interchange ideas, the words must be sounds with- out meaning, and meet the ear in vain. The mere mathemati- cian cannot talk with the mere poet. The mere man of ava- rice has no medium, by which he may understand the pleasures 22 169 of the man of generosity. The sectarian, who sees truth only under a given aspect in the definitions of his party, cannot con- ceive of the propriety and excellence of the mental operations of a philosopher, who penetrates into the essence of all sects, and draws out of our common nature the principles and motives which make all the forms of religion point to the same end, and require nearly the same virtues. Many a plain and honest, but unenlightened Christian might be found, at this hour, weeping over the supposed errors of profound and philosophical minds, which are distinguished for a successful pursuit of truth, but whose views require great enlargement of the mental vision in others, to be clearly seen in their proper character, and in all their interesting relations. The difficulty, which minds of this sort find in conveying their thoughts to the weak and ignorant, is illustrated by its analogy to the parental forbearance of the Author of Nature. Even this great and good Being shows us that it is necessary for him, with all his wisdom and skill, to wait long, as we do with our children, for time and experience to unfold the capacities of his creatures, to enable them to un- derstand and apply principles and discoveries, which the system is calculated to furnish. These difficulties extend, not only to the works of the Creator, but also to his word. Parents will easily assent to this, when they remember, that in their daily intercourse with their children, important and luminous explana- tions of the most interesting points must be deferred till the elements of the explanations may be unfolded in the minds of their children, and be capable of being combined by words in a manner adapted to their understandings. The whole frame of nature is a book, in which sentences and discourses of exquisite beauty and perfection are written, but which time, philosophy, and virtue, can alone enable us to read and rightly interpret. How different are the instructions, which different minds draw from the same page ! The man of misanthropy or superstition sees only defects, sufferings, or terrors, where the man of be- nevolence and piety finds wisdom to adore, power and goodness 170 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. to trust, gratitude to warm and elevate his soul, and happiness to enjoy. The ignorant and unreflecting stop and rest upon the outward forms of material nature, while the cultivated, the scientific, and the wise, penetrate into the all-pervading spirit that animates the visible forms, and makes them speak to the intellectual beholder in the accents of heaven and the Divinity. ' Although we must have within us perceptions, feelings, and experience, before we can understand the language, which is designed to act upon them, yet the signs and the things, the words and the ideas, may have a reciprocal influence, and pro- mote their mutual progress. The elements of an illustration by words may often exist in the mind in a miscellaneous and unconnected state, and their affinity be too feeble, or the intel- lect too inactive, to bring them together, and to make them a useful and consistent whole, without foreign aid and excitement. Such a mind may be able to follow the luminous discourse of another, which is already disciplined and informed, and may thus be led to call together the scattered elements of the illus- tration, and to rejoice in the result with equal surprise and de- light. If the strings and all the essential parts of the musical instrument are found within it, notwithstanding they may be un- wound, or loosened, or transposed, or out of harmony, or in any way disordered, the skilful artist may soon arrange them, and make the keys discourse excellent music. In one respect, however, the musical instrument fails to illustrate the nature of the connexion between words and the operations of the mind. The keys touch all the strings and produce all the sounds, which the instrument is calculated to receive and furnish; but words reach a part only of our conceptions and emotions, while there are others still more numerous which consciousness alone can touch and enjoy. If the instrument were endowed with life and a soul, and after the keys had played their limited num- ber of changes, could, by its own internal power, move the strings as the mind moves the nerves, and produce an infinite variety of exquisite melodies in moral sentiment, it would then afford a full and perfect illustration. 171 APPENDIX. ' In all the arts and sciences, the difficulty, which arises from the imperfection of language, from its inadequateness, even in its most perfect state, to meet all the wants of the mind, is felt and acknowledged. We borrow from each other; we go from mind to matter, and from matter to mind; we range through all the professions, and all the mechanical employments; and we adopt all modes, literal and figurative, to make our thoughts intelligible to others; and, after all, we are completely under- stood but by a few, and by none who suppose that words are to do the whole, that language is omnipotent, and that activity and candor are not necessary in the minds of those, who read or hear, who write or explain. The moral teacher, the expound- er of the principles of taste, the ablest investigator of the human head and heart, the best interpreter of religious sentiment and hope, is compelled to resort to every variety of experience, ob- servation, and pursuit, in order to illustrate and enforce the prin- ciples of truth, the beauties of virtue, the pleasures of benevo- lence, and the affections of the Christian. From the physician we learn, as moralists and theologians, to speak of the health and diseases of the mind, stimulants for the phlegmatic and slothful, lenitives for the irritable, and the balm of consolation for the afflicted. From the lawyer we borrow the language of tribunals, sanctions, penalties, acquittal, justification, or sen- tence of condemnation from our supreme judge. From the musician we take the tone and harmony of feeling and senti- ment, or the discords of jealousy and hatred. From the natural philosopher, motive for the will, gravity for demeanour, a prop for the aged and feeble, and a balance for the passions of all. To the painter we are indebted for the light and shade of char- acter, for richness of color and delicacy of touch, while from the sculptor we learn to chip and chisel the rough marble of our nature till we produce, by time and art, the finished Apollo of the moral world. From gardening and agriculture we have drawn out an immense vocabulary for the use of moral science. We cultivate the mind, we sow the seeds of virtue, we ingraft 172 APPENDIX. good and pious sentiments, and we reap a harvest of happiness in the fields of benevolence. ' But with all our expedients we do not advance a step beyond those capacities of the mind which experience has unfolded, and which, so far as verbal illustrations are concerned, are an indispensable preliminary to the knowledge that language can aid in exciting. Words may be taught first, and the mind be left to apply them afterward to ideas and feelings as they are gradually evolved. But as words are arbitrary signs of ideas, and have many different applications, their definitions become exceedingly multiplied. Each word must depend upon its connexion in a sentence or discourse for its meaning in the given instance. Few words can be named, each of which has but a single meaning, or, more properly, an unchanging application, the same force at all times. In our own language, the number of modifications varies from two or three to two or three score, according to the enumeration in a standard authority. The meanings are still more multiplied, when we consider the differ- ent countries and smaller districts where the same language is spoken. To this variety we have to add the peculiarities which grow out of sects and parties. Their watchwords, though heard without any other than common emotions by the enlight- ened and catholic, will be associated with violent passions and the whole train of party interests among the initiated. ' The study of words is the study of the operations of the mind to a certain extent, the study of the analogies by which it proceeds, the study of such of its results as it has been able to arrive at for common use. But the homonymy of language is inconceivably various, and continually increasing as long as it lives, and as rapidly as it becomes copious. Many words, to use a term introduced by Coleridge, are now completely desynonymized, which were originally identical, or the same in ' In Johnson, the word make, in all its changes as a noun and a verb, and in connexion with prepositions, has, as he numbers them, seventyone ap- plications.' 173 the root. Literary power is gained in this manner, and the ingenuity of the mind thus extends its conquests to new terri- tories of philosophy, and gains new resources for the supply of its vocabulary. Both synonymes and homonymes enrich a a language for the purposes of the philosopher, the poet, and the orator, although they never can bring all the operations of the soul under the dominion of the dictionary. Much must be left to the activity of the mind, and to the candor and integrity of readers and hearers. The transitive or derivative meanings of words indefinitely outnumber the primitive. Our most literal sentences constantly introduce figures, as we find whenever we enter upon the curious and ample field of etymology. Every important word is a tune with variations, and the variations, although preserving the original air, are so numerous, and lead us so far from the original order of notes, that great talent and a fine tact are necessary to follow out the changes and subtile analogies. 'We are not to expect from language a degree of precision and certainty, either when used by others or by ourselves, which, from its nature, it evidently cannot afford. Our expres- sions partake of the peculiarities of our modes of thinking, and are rarely viewed under precisely the same aspect in which they present themselves to our own attention. Common sense and common equity direct us to supply all the qualifications and ellipses, with which every discourse must be accompanied. However important words may be in the management of our reasoning powers, we are always to remember that they do not precede, but follow the operations of the mind. It is enough to satisfy us of this truth, if we reflect a moment upon the man- ner in which children acquire ideas, and afterwards get the command of language. It is manifestly contrary to the fact to suppose that the words are first, or that words excite the first connected ideas which are found in their minds. Sensible ob- jects first act upon the intellectual powers, and produce the first class of perceptions. Both thoughts and feelings are, for 174 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. a long time, in the mind, before words are distinguished from inarticulate sounds and unmeaning cries. The testimony of deaf and dumb persons, who, in adult years, learn to write lan- guage, is, as we have had frequent occasions to know, that they had many ideas about reason, sentiment, duty, responsi- bility, mind, and matter, before they obtained any knowledge of words. We see them communicate their thoughts and senti- ments to each other by visible signs, entirely without the inter- vention of words. 'It is rather astonishing that any body should ascribe to words the power of creating ideas in a mind where the elements of the ideas do not exist, and where of course the means of un- derstanding the definitions of the terms are not to be found. Definitions are offered in vain to such as have not beforehand a knowledge of the terms in which the definitions are conveyed. He who has never seen any of the simple colors, who has not had the sensations which they excite by means of the eye, can never arrive at any conception of them by the aid of language. The spirit of this observation extends to all subjects, with which words are connected. They are nothing more than instruments of acting upon materials already in the mind. They enable us to work up the materials into any shape we wish, but they create nothing. They multiply our speculative powers, and are analogous to the effects of the lever, the wheel, the screw, and the pulley upon matter, in enabling a given degree of men- tal strength to accomplish, by their aid, what could not have been accomplished without it. The mechanical powers create no force, which is not in the substances employed, but make such applications of the force as multiply the effect. Words are not the creators of mind, but call it out, and furnish a lever to its powers, by which they can raise, not the material world of Archimedes, but the world of science, philosophy, and imagination. Mind however must act upon the lever, and must furnish the fulcrum, or rather must discover where the fulcrum is placed in our nature, and must put the lever upon it. 175 Words alone, it is obvious, are as useless as the lever would be without the fulcrum, and without the power to act upon its ap- propriate end. They, who give up the use and employment of the mind, because they have written words to inform them of all they most wish to know, forget that even the mechanical powers cannot act alone, but must have a director and guide. The screw must have some one to turn it, the wheel must have a hand to give it motion, the pulley must have an agent to draw its cords, and the inclined plane requires a weight to be placed upon its surface before its laws can show their force. Whatever discoveries our books may contain, and however valuable they may be, our minds must be kept alive, and our faculties em- ployed in amassing the knowledge, upon which the words rest for their meaning, or the discoveries are nothing to us, and the language is an unknown tongue. ' Those, who rely upon words for their opinions, dispute as much with each other as those do who rely upon things. And it is a benevolent provision in nature, that nothing shall super- sede the necessity of using the faculties of our minds in gaining or preserving all real knowledge, and in enjoying all the genu- ine and lasting pleasures of moral improvement and religious sentiment. A revelation by words is of most value to him, who attends to the revelation by things, and who uses the capacities of his nature to make each illustrate the other. Articulate sounds are the privileges of man above the animals around him, and language is no doubt one of the principal means of his su- perior improvement. Many of the intellectual powers, and of the affections too, belong to him and to them in common. Both think and feel, but he alone can talk, read, write, abstract, gen- eralize, and improve himself, generation upon generation, and this chiefly by the aid of that wonderful instrument language, the worker of so many intellectual miracles. All this praise it deserves, but still let its imperfections, its ambiguities, and its inadequateness, be fairly acknowledged, and as full a guard as possible placed against unnecessary errors from these sources. 176 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. It is delightful to address ourselves to minds, which are so culti- vated and elastic that every idea we present to them, not only is received, but rebounds, attended by a crowd of others of a kindred nature and spirit. On the other hand, deliver us from an intercourse with those, on whom the best and most brilliant conceptions fall like balls upon lead. We are to excite and exalt ourselves, or we shall not be permanently excited and ex- alted. The gods give everything to labor, and nothing to in- dolence. We are to multiply the power and variety of con- sciousness. If our minds will not take up the trains of thought, which the words of others are designed to produce, and if we will not follow them out with our own activity, we must not ex- pect to learn much truth, or to get much wisdom and enjoy- ment, either from men or the gods. We must be instruments of music, with neither defective nor broken and disordered strings, but must keep the nerves of our minds in constant har- mony and elasticity, that whenever the keys of our souls are struck, they may pour forth celestial sounds.' 23 177 APPENDIX. IaNIN SH.L .O Axo'IOISMd 178 z0 niP V E-c 0 mq E-1 Q.) As 64 t; aV 0 E-4 APPENDIX. AOO'IOIHH NIKV SOIHJa 179 a a) a)Ua) .-a)a) a) a)- a) Ca)-. a) a).- '-d.C 0- a) "-Ca- -'a)'- a) a) 3a) a) a)a) a.,a) o 0 a) 'a) a) a)a)a) Ca) .a) a) :.a) _ a). a)- a) - aa) Oa) a) a) a) Sa) a) a)daa aa) o a) a) bOa) a) C.a) a),,a) a)a)a U -' do --a) a)a) bD' 14 C.- - a). a) a)a)a- - 0 - 180 NOTE D. -' whether orthodox or heretical,' 4c. p. 41. OF Dr Holley's sentiments and feelings on the subject of the Christian religion, the reader may derive further knowledge from the following quotations from his manuscript sermons. Multiplied and more copious extracts would be here given, were not a hope entertained that a sufficient number of his dis- courses to form a volume, may be yet found in the hands of his friends. Should such a volume issue from the press, the public will not fail to find in its contents a complete vindication of Dr Holley from many charges preferred, and not a few prejudices cherish- ed against him. It will, in a particular manner, appear, that although, as relates to the utterance of certain theological tenets, for which he was censured, he was the leader at the time, yet the same tenets are inculcated now, without giving offence, by many of the clergy in Boston, and various other parts of the United States. Here, as in other instances, his intrepidity and frankness were converted into weapons to annoy and injure their distinguished possessor. 'I cannot close this discourse, my friends, without a few reflections, and without bringing into view the particular object of the occasion. 'What is religion It is the love of God and man. Its rule is charity; its nutriment is divine grace; its elements are intel- ligence and the kind affections; its support is piety; its life is beneficence; its pleasure is duty; its object is peace and joy; and its end is glory. APPENDIX. ' What is christian faith The intelligent and honest acknow- ledgment that Jesus is the Christ. What is the term of chris- tian communion in the article of faith The same acknow- ledgement, that Jesus is the Christ. Does a bare acknowledg- ment of this truth make a Christian indeed No; nor does the bare acknowledgment of any truth make him so. Love to God, and love to man; a love felt in the heart, and proved in the life, alone can make us Christians indeed. ' The rights of a Christian are those of private judgment, and of fellowship with all who acknowledge Jesus to be the Christ, unless they have forfeited their claim by immoral and irreligious conduct. Can conscience be plead in bar to these rights By no means. The rights of my conscience are limited by the rights of my neighbour's conscience. To plead conscience as an excuse for attacking his name, reputation, or privileges, is an abuse of the gift of Heaven, and can end only in contention and violence. Conscience is dependent on the judgment, and is an improvable possession of the mind. When I perceive that my conscience violates, in outward actions, the rights of my neigh- bour, I cannot but know that my conscience is bad, and that I am bound to correct it. Conscience stands upon the same ground with any other article of the mind. It may be depraved as well as a passion. Break my head through conscience, and it is the same as through anger or revenge. If there are no limits to conscience in its abuses, then sweep society from the earth at once. You have no security left. 'Can we frame a better creed than the gospel No. So far as subscription to a creed can sanctify mankind, the bible alone must make the experiment. All others have failed. Try this. But men may subscribe to it with different views ! So they may to every creed you can name; and, what is more, they have a right so to do. If you attempt to abridge them of it, they may do the same by you. I say that the bible is a better creed than any you can make, and Christ is a better teacher than any other you can follow. 181 'What then are the terms of christian peace So far as faith is concerned, subscription to the gospel. All other sub- scriptions have been tried again and again, till the experiment is too bald to be repeated. ' I will to the utmost of my power, contend for the faith once delivered to the saints; I will not shun to declare the whole counsel of God; I will keep back no truth which is profitable to men, because they do not like it; I will not consult the wishes of the carnal heart; I will declare the length and breadth of human depravity; I abhor all latitudinarian doctrines, whether Pharasaical or skeptical; and I now explicitly declare the ne- cessity of every sinner's being created anew in Christ Jesus, be- fore he can enter into the bosom of the Father. But nothing has been a greater curse to the churches, than the adherence to the determination to introduce new standards, in addition to the bible, and to force assent to the traditions of men. ' I plead not for myself; I plead for you; I plead for the churches; I plead for the peace of Zion; I plead for Christ. I beseech you, in Christ's stead, to reflect upon the cause of the present controversies among Christians. Who is responsi- ble for the effect They who attempt to hereticate the acknow- ledged followers of Christ; they who call them unclean, whom God has owned and blessed. ' I must be plain, and I hope to be affectionate. Persecution begins with those who deny fellowship to the professed believ- ers of the gospel, whose lives are holy, or unimpeachable. If you object to this, that your conscience makes it necessary to be guilty of persecution, I answer, that the plea is bad, and so is the conscience. ' I am not your judge, but God is. And if you throw a stumblingblock in your brother's way, you are an offender. ' I have not offered idle declamation. I have offered you a solemn statement. I hide behind no equivocal language; I make no general and indefinite claim. I am sensible of the crisis, which demands every honest man to be at the post of APPENDIX. 182) APPENDIX. truth and duty. We will not draw the sword nor tilt the spear. But when the cry is, " Crucify," for Jesus' sake, we will not hold our peace. ' Think how great must be the evils of the present conten- tions in every department of society. If ministers contend, conceal, equivocate, calumniate, and pervert the scriptures and the views of one another; if they are Jesuitical, secret, intriguing, ambitious, selfish, proud, and tyrannical in the management of the churches-how must all this affect the people; how their faith, their morals, their characters, their schools, their colleges, and their worship; how must it affect the politics and the strength of our country; how give occasion to the enemy to divide and conquer us; how carry back the mind, how barbarize society; how corrupt conscience; how must it introduce the detestable practice of pious frauds; how affect missions; how multiply infidels; how arrest honest conversions; how deprave the soul, and how offend God ' This is a faint allusion to the horrors of the present spirit of the churches. If it goes on ten years to come as it has done for half that period past, I tremble at the wounds aimed at the bleeding bosom of my Saviour, and the numberless victims already bound for a sacrifice to the demon of ecclesiastical ambition. 'My brethren, arrest the storm, and stand between the whirlwind and the walls of Zion. ' Were Jesus now before you in person, what would he say to your minister " Preach me, and not Calvin, nor Arminius; not Edwards, nor Priestley; preach the bible, and not the creed of Scotland, Saybrook, Cambridge, or Savoy; preach peace, and not war; preach love, and not hatred; preach prac- tice, and not speculation; preach union, and not division; preach effort, and not sloth; enlarge your charity and stint it not." ' What would he say to you as a people " Hanker not after the traditions of men; be not divided for Apollos or Cephas; 1 83 call not one another by odious names, after the proud here- siarchs of the world; assume not the prerogative of God to judge the heart; watch the dangerous growth of priestly power, in- dependently upon the voice of the people; defend the rights and liberties of the churches; and foster not the unhallowed wish to divide the family of Christ, and to mar the glory of the cross." ' What do you come to church for To learn the truth; to exalt your affections; to correct evil habits; to gain the grace of God; to cure your selfishness; to form your consciences; to warm your sympathies; to make you better fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, citizens and friends, and better disciples of Christ. ' For these divine objects you have erected this beautiful temple; you have borne with patience your losses by confla- gration; you have struggled through numerous difficulties and trials; though a young, you have become an active and inde- pendent society; you have called and are now to settle a pastor, whom, we trust, God will guide and enrich with all spiritual graces-who, we sincerely pray, may go in and out before you with a pure conscience and the gospel of peace-who will break to you the bread of life-who will baptize and feed the lambs of your flock-who will consecrate your social attachments- who will be the welcome inmate of your dwellings-and who will direct the dying saint to a world of light and joy. 'How dreadful is this place! It is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven! Hither come, and bury your contentions, heal your divisions, declare your wants, con- fess your sins, supplicate for pardon, and rise to immortal life. 'Here bring your children; here teach them to lisp the praises of redeeming love; here gather the fruits of faith and hope; and here enrol them for the skies. ' With the new year begin a new song. Recount the sins of the past, the mercies of every hour, the forbearance of God, and your march onward to judgment. 184 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. ' Record your resolutions; number your duties; kindle your devotion at the foot of the cross; fix your fleeting hopes; and prepare for the year that shall never end. ' And now, 0 God, what wait we for Our spirits and our cause are thine. Accept our souls; accept our offering. To thee, to Christ, to thy free grace, we consecrate the house our hands have built. Oh! let thy spirit here abide. Here show thy love, and here exalt thy name.' In his sermon from the text, ' Buy the truth,' Prov. xxiii. 23, Dr Holley appears to great advantage as a moralist and an orator. The following quotations will sustain us in this assert tion. ' The definitions of truth are various. It is applied to persons, things, and words; to the perceptions, dispositions, speculations, designs, and practices of persons; to the nature, connexion, de- pendence and mutual adaptation of things, and to the reality, the order, the circumstances, the relations, and the influence of events. Applied to our minds, as they contemplate objects, truth denotes the conformity of our perceptions to the objects. Applied to the representations we give of our perceptions to others, it denotes the conformity of our words to our thoughts, and commonly takes the name of veracity. Applied to our consciences, to the moral state of our affections, to our whole character in reference to religion, it denotes purity from false- hood, sincerity, impartiality, the hatred of deception, a desire for faithful and correct information, honesty, the love of duty, fidelity and rectitude of temper both toward God and man. Applied to our conduct as a moral virtue, it denotes a voluntary conformity to acknowledged rules of action, a due regard to the rights and welfare of others, the fulfilment of our engage- ments, and constancy in the discharge of all our duties. These are the principal definitions of truth. 24 185 ' If we now ask for the foundation of truth, we shall find in these definitions a clear and satisfactory answer. They teach us that truth has its foundation in the fitness, proportion, agree- ment, and adaptation of things to one another; as means to ends, causes to effects, laws to subjects, pursuits to attainments, thoughts to knowledge, right affections to enjoyment, congenial tempers to a benevolent union, the mutual influence of objects, and the dependence of all upon the Supreme Head. Some have supposed this foundation to be simply the idea of justice. But justice itself is among those relations of objects to each other, which come in as a part or species under the general account of truth. I note the error for the purpose of introducing an illustration of the general account by the acknowledged maxim, that the falsehood of one is no just reason for the falsehood of another. We receive no dispensation from truth by contem- plating the iniquities of our fellow men. These, on the con- trary, are additional reasons for all the lovers of truth to make new and increased efforts for its restoration, preservation, and general diffusion. From this foundation of truth we learn that its nature, although complex as to relations and influences, is yet simple, uniform, and unalterable. The relations and influences are indeed so numerous that we cannot conceive of them, much less describe them. We may lawfully suppose them to be without limits. Still there is always to be found in them, from the unchanging nature of truth, the beauty of proportion, agreement, or adaptation. 'Error is the creature of the imagination, a fancied connex- ion and dependence of objects, where either the objects them- selves, or the connexion and dependence are unreal and fallacious. Actions which are predicated upon error, must of course fail of their expected success; must lead to disappoint- ment, and must produce embarrassment, perplexity, and suffer- ing. Ideas alone do not constitute knowledge. We may have them without number from fancied objects and relations, and 186 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. still have no perceptions of truth; none, which deserve the name of knowledge, and none which we can reduce to action, without disappointment, defeat, and pain. Wisdom springs from those ideas only, which are conformed to the objects they represent. It is often worse than folly to sport, either in speculation or prac- tice, with ideas and names without knowledge. Truth is the friend of our happiness; error is its enemy. Whatever may be the present sacrifices demanded by the one, or the present ad- vantages promised by the other, this must ultimately be found to be the invariable result. The qualifications attending the rule in practice, I have not time to discuss, but am satisfied that they all consist with the correctness of the rule itself. Truth is the manna rained from heaven. Falsehood is the pestilence be- gotten by flesh upon transgression. ' What then, my brethren, let me now ask, is the object of our existence Why are we endowed with such complicated perceptions, such wonderful faculties, such diversified emotions, such excitement in pursuit, and such elasticity in application Why are we pleased with knowledge, and offended with error Why is conscience at first so prompt and discriminating, and why are our hopes so exalted and alluring The answer is short, but momentous. It is, that we seek and enjoy truth. ' This is the unfailing source of all true happiness, whether from nature or education, from feeling or intelligence, from thought or action, from art or science, from philosophy or common sense, from morals or religion. That portion of it which each man is enabled to gain, is the pearl of great price, which no fortune or talent is too liberal to purchase. Truth is the glory of God, and the happiness of heaven. Truth is the sun of the universe, and the glorious object of its adoration. Truth is the ray of redemption, which hath penetrated to earth, and directs the soul to immortality and bliss.' Mr Holley's discourse on the death of Mr Buckminster is a masterly production-in conception glowing and opulent, and splendid in diction. A few extracts from it shall close this article. Of the deceased orator he says;- ' His imagination was rich beyond description or comparison, and yet mellowed by the finest moral feeling and the most cul- tivated taste. He was ardent but not glaring, lofty but not extravagant, animaLed but not boisterous, free but not loose, original but not wild or eccentric. In the perspective which he threw before you, the sun became more mild and genial, the arch of heaven was spread with a more delicate blue, the meadows were clothed in a fresher verdure, the fields waved with a more enchanting grace, the streams murmured in sweeter harmony, the forests rose in greater majesty, the tem- pest howled with increasing terror, or the west wind breathed in softer melody. ' His conceptions were always filled with life and motion. He never gave us the stiff standing picture, but the living, breath- ing, moving figures of nature as they were reflected from the mirror of truth and taste. The simplicity of his intentions, and the purity of his life, kept his mind always open to the language of beauty and elegance, which the Deity everywhere speaks in the works of creation. 'His eloquence was original, yet chaste and classical; splen- did, yet spontaneous and simple; full, and yet without the appearance of labor and art. His most gorgeous discourses would fall upon the mind, not as rhetorical or studied ornaments, but as his own natural, easy, unsought magnificence. Others would give us as fine images, as elevated thoughts, and as lofty expressions; but they were too obviously artificial, and too mani- festly an effort. 'He had a wonderful talent of concentrating, without the minuteness of detail, a variety of thought into a single expres- sion. His sermon on the character of Christ, " Never man spake like this man," I had almost said, was proof that the 188 APPENDIX. text was made for himself. It is just to say that it ranks among the first specimens of solemn, affectionate, interesting, instructive, persuasive, and powerful eloquence, the pulpit has known. 'For a moment I give you a brief review. Mr Buckminster's understanding was rapid, clear, comprehensive, and marked by the soundest ultimate views; his imagination ardent, splendid, inventive, chaste, and abounding in tti richest illustration; his taste was discriminating, cultivated, delicate without affectation, accurate without fastidiousness, and simple while it was classi- cal. His affections were generous, natural, and benevolent; for his pursuits and acquirements corrupted not, but exalted and enlarged what his Maker had bountifully given him. ' His sympathies were accustomed to frequent exercise, not where they would be hackneyed and blunted by the temptations of avarice and selfishness, but where they would be fostered, refined, and ennobled, while they were consecrated by the offices, the hopes, and the promises of religion. ' His moral sensibility was unperverted by the maxims or intrigues of worldly policy. He was distinguished by an enlight- ened conscience, by an honest faith, and by a steady pursuit after simple truth. His mind was endowed with that humility and piety which springs not from mysticism and fear, but from the most noble, intelligent, and affectionate views of the divine character and government. His eloquence was the combined expression of all these talents, sentiments, and motives, sup- ported by the varieties of general and sacred literature, employ- ed in the most holy and momentous of all concerns, the im- provement and salvation of souls. And his hope is the hope of the great and good; nay, no longer hope, but knowledge and fruition.' APPENDIX. 189 190 NOTE E. 's a teacher and governor of youth,' 4,c. p. 48. THE fairest exposition of Dr Holley's merit, in this capacity, and, at the same time, the highest encomium that could be passed on it, would be found in a correct history of the academ- ical department of Transylvania University. By that, as by a faithful mirror, would his presidential charac- ter, in all its relations, be accurately represented. By that, in a particular manner, would it be satisfactorily shown, that, as soon as it was placed under his direction, the institution rose to a use- fulness and fame, to which it had been previously an entire stranger; that while he was permitted peacefully to guide its destinies, it continued to flourish with increasing vigor; and that, without the cooperation of any other cause of marked efficiency, it sunk when persecution induced him to leave it. Such being the facts, as will be made presently to appear, the inference is irresistible, that the prosperity of the school was the result of his able and faithful administration of it; and its present de- pressed and unpromising condition, the effect of the loss it sus- tained in his resignation. Nor does this statement exhibit the entire meed of praise, for which justice to the deceased imperatively calls. All his benefactions to Transylvania and the West, in the high capacity of President and instructer, were performed in the midst of re- strictions and obstacles, proceeding from inadequate means, and insufficient aid. From this source arose numerous diffi- culties and embarrassments, in a conflict with which a spirit less resolute would have yielded, and by the weight of which an intellect less vigorous and efficient would have been crushed and subdued. This page in the original text is blank. 1 r2 y APPENDIX. But his was not the temperament that yields without a strug- gle. Obstacles but roused him to higher efforts. In the tone and style of real greatness, his resolution was braced, his re- sources developed, and his energies manifested, in direct pro- portion to the pressure of the crisis. Hence the almost incredi- ble amount of the services which he rendered, and the labors he performed, -in the instruction of classes, and the general superintendence of the affairs of the institution-an amount, which, in a pamphlet published in Lexington, in 1824, and which, in all its details, remains uncontradicted, was pronounced to be ' more than double that of the labors and services of the President of any other similar institution in the United States.' Nor will the assertion ever encounter contradiction; or, if it should, it will be empty denial, unsupported by fact. In the same pamphlet, inquiry as to the truth of this asser- tion, and opposition to it, could it be made, were confidently invited, in the following terms. ' By individuals who have never attended to the subject, this assertion [that touching the amount of labor performed by the President] may be deemed hyperbolical, perhaps unfounded. But let such be assured, that, on a fair and dispassionate inqui- ry, they will find it within the limits of sober truth. Instead, then, of confiding in the statement here presented, they are earnestly invited to institute such an inquiry, and judge for themselves. This is the form of comparison and tria1, which, in all cases, the President and his friends are solicitous to obtain. From this they will neither shrink, under a consciousness of de- ficiency or fault, nor utter a complaint of it, be the issue what it may.' It is scarcely necessary to add, that no investigation of this point was instituted by the enemies of Dr Honey, because they knew that it would eventuate against them ; and they were, by nature, too cunning, too deeply practised in art and manage- 19l ment, and too deliberately bent on schemes of mischief, -to engage in anything that might benefit him. It was repeatedly proclaimed, not only by the enemies by whom the President was immediately surrounded, but by officers and other persons high in station and public confidence, that large sums of money had been lavished on Transylvania, with- out any adequate return, on her part, to the community, for such abundant munificence. No assertion was ever more groundless than this; nor any seat of science and letters more unjustly slandered. In propor- tion to the funds bestowed on her by the State of Kentucky, Transylvania, under the administration of Dr Holley, did more, much more, in the work of education, than was ever done, in the same space of time, by any other college or university in the United States, or, it is believed, in the world. It will ap- pear hereafter, that, extravagant as this assertion may perhaps be considered, it has not been made on doubtful authority. Indeed, were this a suitable occasion to enter into a full and severe investigation of the subject, on fair principles of profit and loss, it could be clearly shown, that Kentucky, as a sover- eign State, has never given to Transylvania a single dollar. On the contrary, she has indirectly taken from her much more than she has, in any way, returned. Although, therefore, Transylvania is called a State institution, and is actually govern- ed, controlled, and held responsible as such, she has never, as the child of the State, been made an object of pecuniary pat- ronage. As a contrary report has been industriously circulated and very generally believed, this statement will, no doubt, appear to the public extraordinary, if not incredible. But it is, notwith- standing, true; and the people of Kentucky ought to know it. Had they a correct knowledge of it, and of the unjust treatment the University has received, in all their aggravated circum- stances, it is confidently believed, that their good sense and high-toned patriotism, not to speak of their justice, magnanimity, 192 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. and self-respect, would induce them to become immediately the active and efficient patrons of the institution, and thus wipe from the Commonwealth the stain, not only of neglect, but positive wrong, and remedy the manifold evils it has produced. It is not contended that no funds have ever been given to Transylvania; but that none have been given by Kentucky, as a State. For the elucidation of this subject, which, whether intentionally or not, has been deeply misrepresented, and gen- erally misunderstood, the following brief exposition will be sufficient. Transylvania University is the result of the union of two an- terior and minor institutions, Transylvania Seminary and the Kentucky Academy. Of these, the latter was erected and endowed exclusively by a private association, about the year 1795; and the former was established by Virginia, in 17S0, when Kentucky was yet but a county of that State. The funds allotted, by the parent State, for the support of the Transylvania Seminary, consisted of escheated lands with- in the limits of Kentucky County. Of these, twenty thousand acres were appropriated to that purpose. But no sooner was Kentucky erected into a State, than she became much more anxious to augment her population, than to promote the interests of science and letters. For this feeling her apology was, no doubt, to be found, in the dangers which presented themselves from hostile Indians, within and immedi- ately around her borders. By a brave and numerous people only, could those dangers be repelled, and the meditated schemes of savage massacre successfully defeated. To this regard for self-protection, which belongs alike to individuals and communities, may be added the pride of numbers constitution- ally inherent in every sovereign and independent state; and, perhaps, an honest belief, that the descent of property from the possessors of it to their kindred, wherever they may reside, is the dictate at once of justice and equity. But these considera- 25 193 APPENDIX. tions, however weighty and popular at the time, proved no dimi- nution of the future evils they were destined to produce. Their immediate effect was the enactment of laws, by the legislature of the Commonwealth, exempting from escheat all lands, more especially military grants, to the property of which legal heirs were known to be resident in foreign countries, with a view to induce those heirs to emigrate and occupy them. Of this policy, which many of the wisest statesmen and soundest patriots condemned and opposed, the consequence was, that of the twenty thousand acres granted by Virginia, the Transylvania Seminary received but eight; twelve thousand being thus virtually taken from her, and given to strangers. Nor, in remuneration of this, have any other lands or property been ever transferred to her. The eight thousand acres, when sold, produced the sum of thirty thousand dollars. At the same rate, the twelve thousand acres retained would have produced fortyfive thousand; an amount, of which the Transylvania Seminary was literally de- prived by the State of Kentucky. Nor did her losses from state policy terminate here. The money received from the sale of the lands was vested in stock of the Bank of Kentucky, which was so judiciously conduct- ed, as to yield an annual dividend of ten per cent., amounting to the sum of three thousand dollars. The charter of the bank having expired, the Legislature of the State refused to re- new it. The consequence was, the suspension of dividends, and the depreciation of the stock. So extensive was the mis- chief which this state of things produced, that the Seminary lost by it, in principal and interest, twenty thousand dollars. This, added to fortyfive thousand, makes sixtyfive-the lowest sum of which Transylvania University was actually deprived by the State of Kentucky. It is important to remark, that when these losses were sustained, the currency of Kentucky was perfectly sound. 194 APPENDIX. Nor, for damages so fatal, has the State done aught that de- serves to be considered an attempt at reparation. She has not even openly recognised the wrong committed; nor seemed conscious of the depth of the mischief she has produced. The entire amount of her reimbursement-contribution it was not- was a little more than three thousand dollars, a bonus due to her from the Lexington Farmers and Mechanics' Bank, which she transferred to the University; twenty thousand dollars in Commonwealth notes, equal to ten thousand in sound currency; a thousand dollars from duties on auctions, and eight hundred derived from fines and forfeitures in Fayette County; making a total of about fifteen thousand dollars. This deducted from sixtyfive thousand, leaves against the State a balance of fifty thousand dollars, with interest to a much larger amount, which, might conscience decide, she righteously owes to Transylvania University. Of the funds received from the Commonwealth, the whole was expended in the purchase of books and philosophical ap- paratus, and in the extinguishment, in part, of a debt contract- ed in the erection of the University edifice, and the improvement of the lot on which it is situated. When all the money had been thus applied, the institution was still in debt. The lot, itself, on which the building stands, was not derived from a public source. It was presented to the University by a company of private gentlemen, liberal in spirit, and friendly to the pro- motion of science and letters. To public patronage, then, of every description-Kentucky as a State, having had no participation in it-Transylvania Uni- versity is indebted for nothing more than her building and im- provements, and a part of her library and philosophical ap- paratus, a large portion of the two latter having been de- rived by her from individual benefactions. The salaries of her officers arose from the fees of the pupils who resorted to her for instruction. It is scarcely necessary to add, that this l495 is a condition of things which does not obtain to such an extent in any other similar institution, whose history is known to us. Yet, although abandoned thus to her own resources, and com- pelled to struggle with misfortunes so grievous, it will hereafter appear, that, under the administration of Dr Holley, the pros- perity of Transylvania was, for a time, unprecedented. So true is this, that it is not, perhaps, extravagant to assert, that, for several years, she attracted a higher degree of public at- tention, if she had not more of actual celebrity, than any other seat of instruction in our country. She was the admiration of strangers, and the pride of the West. Foreigners of distinc- tionnvisited Lexington, attracted by her reputation, and retired again equally surprised and delighted at what they had seen. Hence the declaration already made, that, in proportion to the public patronage bestowed on her, she did more, in a given time, in the education of youth, than any other college or uni- versity, with which we are acquainted in this, or of which rec- ords inform us in foreign, countries. But that it may the more clearly appear to what an unprece- dented extent Dr Holley contributed, by his administration, to the splendor of Transylvania, further details are necessary. In 1798 she was erected into a university, by the union of the two subordinate institutions already mentioned. From that time, for the space of twenty years, she was not more than a respectable grammar school. The course of studies pursued by her pupils was very limited, she was scarcely heard of be- yond the confines of her own neighbourhood, and she sent forth into the community, within the period specified, but twenty- two of her alumni, bearing the badges of her humble scholar- ship. Dissatisfied with a condition of the institution so feeble and unproductive, not to call it discreditable, and so unworthy of the high minded people of the West, the trustees formed the laudable resolution, to take measures to raise it to usefulness and renown. Nor were they slow in discovering the steps to be pursued. A presiding officer of distinction was wanting. APPENDIX. 196 APPENDIX. The fame of Dr Holley was already abroad, and designated him as an individual, in every way qualified to superintend the execution of an enterprise so important. He was, accordingly, in the year 1815, elected to the presidency of the University; but he did not, at that time, accept the appointment. In November 1817, he was, a second time, unanimously invit- ed to the same trust. Early in the following year he left his pastoral charge in Boston, and made a visit to Lexington, that he might, by personal examination, be more fully informed of the condition and reasonable prospects of the institution, before venturing to identify himself with it, in reputation and destiny. Having rendered himself, as he could not fail to do, advan- tageously known to the trustees and the inhabitants of the town, and acquired the necessary acquaintance with the affairs of the University, he signified to the Board, on the seventh of April 1818, his acceptance of the presidency. To all the friends of literature and science, whose feelings were not perverted by some sinister motive, this event was a subject of mutual congratulation, and sincere rejoicing. Intel- ligence of it spread, with an electrical influence on the public mind, and almost with electric velocity, not only through Ken- tucky, but the States that surround her. It was hailed as the commencement of a new and long wished for era, in which ed- ucation would shed its beams on the regions of the West, awaken into life their native germs of intellect, and bring forth, in time, an abundant harvest. It was welcomed by the proudly and sensitively patriotic, as the termination of a humble depen- dance of the West on the East, for that degree of mental cul- tivation, without which no people can rise to distinction. It was regarded by all, as an earnest of the permanent introduction of sound learning and science, with their train of numerous and mighty benefactions, into the valley of the Mississippi. All attempts to this effect, anteriorly made, had failed, be- cause the directors of them had been comparatively feeble. But a master spirit was now to rule, and success, therefore, 197 was confidently anticipated. Nor would the anticipation have proved fallacious, had it not been for the obstacles that were subsequently erected. But, when the funds of the institution were rendered unavailable in some sources, and withdrawn in others, when enemies arrayed themselves in dark intrigue and open conflict, treason lent its secret agency, and defamation and falsehood were employed as weapons, to have commanded success would have been more than human. Opposed and as- sailed by such a confederacy of evils and embarrassments, noth- ing but defeat could be the issue. Supply the necessary means of operation, and injuries 'May be repaired, reverses recovered from, and losses retrieved. But, when deserted, disarmed, and surrounded by enemies, the bravest and strongest must fall or be vanquished. When on his way to Lexington, Dr Holley had passed through Philadelphia, Washington, and Richmond, in each of which places he spent some time, and, by forming an acquaint- ance with many distinguished characters, extended, not a little, his influence and reputation. This was more particularly the case in Washington, where Congress was in session. There he mingled intimately with the first men of the nation, surprised and delighted them by the brilliancy of his talents, the variety of his attainments, and his powers in conversation, and deliver- ed, by invitation, in the capitol and elsewhere, some of his most able and splendid discourses. A few years afterwards lie made a visit to Mr Jefferson, who was deeply impressed by the great compass and richness of his intellect, and often spoke of him in terms of admiration and encomium. Returning from Lexington to Boston, he took leave of his congregation and friends, in a valedictory discourse, which, for pathos, force, and resplendent elocution, is reported to have been a model in pulpit oratory-a masterpiece, even as related to his own efforts. Its effects on one of the most crowded audiences ever witnessed in the capital of New England, were magical. An enraptured listener has been heard to declare, 198 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. that as the last accents of it died on his ear, when he expected to hear the orator no more, he ' almost fancied them to be the knell of eloquence.' From the remembrance of those who were present on the occasion, no time will be sufficient to erase the impression it produced. In the autumn of 1818, Dr Holley returned to Lexington with his family. In further testimony of the distinguished estimation in which he was held, and the brilliant anticipations which his presence awakened, his arrival was welcomed by an illumination of the college edifice, and other manifestations of rejoicing and hope. On the nineteenth of December, of the same year, he was solemnly inducted into the presidency, and entered immediate- ly on the duties of his station. This act, as had been antici- pated, proved a life-spring to the institution. It was like the sun to vegetation, after the lapse of a dreary winter. Roused from a condition of torpor and despondency, all was, in a short time, fresh activity and sanguine hope. Pupils came in from every quarter, until, in numbers, the institution was, in a few months, highly respectable. In the mean time, academical arrangement, discipline, and studies were introduced -and enforced. The four regular col- lege classes were formed, and exercises as high, and attain- ments as extensive required of each, as are usual in similar in- stitutions in the Atlantic States. The studies of the junior and senior classes, especially men- tal philosophy, rhetoric, composition, and all exercises pertain- ing to the belles lettres, were superintended by the President in person. And in these did the pupils particularly excel. In confirmation of this, the weekly declamation of the classes, in the chapel of the University, was regularly attended, by the most enlightened portion of the citizens of Lexington, as a source of instruction and refined amusement; and the rhetorical and belles lettres exhibitions of the candidates for degrees, on occasions of public commencement, constituted the admiration 199 and delight of crowded audiences, composed of the most cul- tivated and fashionable inhabitants of the West. For several years, a commencement in Transylvania was the gala of the country. So flourishing, under the auspices of the recent arrangement, did the academical department of the University become. But an institution consisting of a single department was not in harmony with the capacious views and enterprising spirit of the presiding officer. His ambition was to occupy lofty ground, and act on a scale of extended usefulness-to be chief of a University, where men are educated, and professions formed; not of a college composed of boys. Actuated by these feelings, he commenced, in the summer of 1819, a project for the establishment of a medical depart- ment. In this, by his activity, zeal, and persuasive eloquence, aided by a few liberal and enterprising citizens, he proved suc- cessful. To his exertions, therefore, in a very high degree, is the West indebted for the school of medicine, which, by diffus- ing extensively the science of the profession, has conferred on it reputation, and proved to it a source of incalculable benefit. Nor did his efforts for the elevation and augmented useful- ness of the University terminate here. A department of law was yet wanting; and, in the measures pursued for the estab- lishment of that, he was also successful. For a time this important branch of the institution was ad- ministered with great activity and effect. He himself not only encouraged it by his countenance, but, participating in its labors, delivered in it several courses of lectures. Nor, as presiding officer, did this constitute any portion of his official duties. It was a very burdensome task, and a deep responsi- bility voluntarily assumed by him, for the benefit of the Univer- sity, and of professional science. None, in his situation, but an officer of the most liberal and intrepid spirit would have engaged in it; nor would any one, but a teacher of the most capacious and richly stored intellect, and versatile powers, have 200 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. been equal to its accomplishment. But, rising under difficul- ties, and adapting his exertions to the demands of the crisis, he cheerfully encountered it, and performed it with peculiar facility and distinction. In further proof of the liberality of his spirit, and his disinter- ested zeal for the usefulness and glory of the institution over which he presided, he delivered three courses of instruction, in the department of law, without accepting any additional re- ward. In the delivery of one of these, he performed the duties of an absent professor, in friendship to him, and for the benefit of his class; and the fees received for the other two, he threw into the treasury, as a part of the common fund of the University, when, in justice, they were his own. Yet, to the disgrace of his enemies, they were accusing him, at the time, of a mercenary disposition. Such were the labors and successes of Dr Holley, in the short period of about three years. By means of them Tran- sylvania had risen from a mere name, to a flourishing universi- ty. Perhaps no institution of the kind ever felt so deeply the creative influence of a master spirit, or profited so extensively by his personal services. If such a case has anywhere existed, those who have a knowledge of it are invited to name it. Should any one inquire, by what means or management the President was enabled to effect so much, the correct reply can be easily given. He did much by his personal agency; and the brilliancy of his reputation, and the weight of his character procured for him, with facility, in some of the departments, able coadjutors. The strong delight to cooperate with the strong, and even to vie with them in enterprise and achieve- ment. A Napoleon or a Nelson can obtain, without difficulty, as his colleagues and cooperators, the first intellects and spirits of the age. But the gifted and the high minded do not readily descend to an association with mediocrity, on equal terms; much less can they degrade themselves by recognising in it a superior in 26 201 station. The law of Heaven is, that intellect, and not mere delegated authority, ought to rule. Nor will the talented and the independent voluntarily submit to wanton violations of it by human appointment. Corporeally and intellectually President Holley had a com- mission from nature to direct and control. Nor did those who were associated with him ever find cause to question its legiti- macy. His resources never proved unequal to the crisis, whatever might be the kind or amount of the difficulties that presented themselves. With all the functionaries of the institu- tion, whose administration he superintended, no presiding officer ever preserved more perfect harmony and friendly intercourse. The fitness of his qualifications for the station he held, was surpassed only, if surpassed at all, by the courtesy of his deportment in discharging the duties of it. In confirmation of the truth of the foregoing general repre- sentation, besides challenging contradiction from the foes of the deceased, reference is again made to the pamphlet published in 1824, by the friends of Transylvania, and never openly ques- tioned by its enemies ;- ' Of his qualifications as an executive officer, and his capa- bility to teach the branches of science appertaining to his province, it would be superfluous to speak. In these respects, his enemies themselves have never denied his peculiar preemi- nence. Nor is he less distinguished by his devotedness to his duties than his ability to perform them. The love of instruction is his ruling passion. 'Let the present controversy eventuate as it may, in relation to the fortunes of the President in the station he occupies, the period of his direction of the affairs of the University will be always referred to as the fairest era of reform and improvement in its general administration. Nor can an institution of the kind be found either in Europe or America, that has, in so APPENDIX. 202 APPENDIX. short a time, been so signally and extensively benefited by the labors of an individual, as Transylvania has been by his, within the last six years. If these assertions be unfounded, they are susceptible of refutation, and ought to be refuted. If true, his enemies and persecutors must consent to be regarded as the enemies of the West, if they do not silence them. On this ground his friends will fearlessly hazard the issue of the contro- versy. Let time determine whether his accusers will accept the challenge. ' The condition of the academical department of the Univer- sity he has eminently ameliorated in every point that can con- tribute, in any measure, to exalt its character and augment its usefulness. The classes in it, which had been previously irregular and defective, he has arranged according to collegial usage; the course of instruction he has rendered much more elevated and extensive than he found it, and the system of dis- cipline more strict and efficient; and by warmly attaching his pupils to his person, by his truly paternal and conciliatory government, and by awakening in them a love of science and letters, by his elegant and attractive mode of instruction, he has implanted in them desires the more ardent, and a determi- nation the more resolute, to cultivate knowledge for its own sake, and to merit his approbation by excelling in their studies. In all respects, as far as his present means will admit, he has brought the department to an equality with the most disz tinguished seats of learning in the Atlantic States, and, in one or two particulars, has raised it above them. Add to this, that he has infused into it a pride of character, a spirit of ambition, and a moral energy, far beyond what it formerly possessed. In its influence on ingenuous and aspiring youth, the value of this con- dition of things is incalculable. It gives life to emulation and success to exertion. Without it, nothing useful or great can be achieved; with it, everything that man is destined to achieve. F 203 ' Before it became the favorite foster-child of the President, Transylvania University was scarcely known beyond the limits of Kentucky, and even within those limits had produced as yet but little excitement. But how changed is its condition! Now, the pride and hope of the Commonwealth, it has become an interesting object of national attention, and a centre of fluxion of the youth of fifteen States of the Union. ' The enemies of the President represent the government of the University as lax and, inefficient, and its pupils as idle, immoral, and dissipated. Whatever may be its origin, or the motives which have prompted it, this charge is utterly unfounded. 'In order, decorum, and salutary discipline, the institution may safely vie with any other of a similar character in the United States ; the correct and gentlemanly deportment of the pupils is its own highest and most substantial commendation; and their excellent and honorable acquittal of themselves, on occasions of public examination and commencement, the best commentary on their studious habits. ' The character formed in college, adheres, for the most part, to the individual through life. But the youth whom Transyl- vania has lately graduated, are, in their respective walks, whether public or private, as moral and discreet, and, in all their trans- actions, as honorable and conscientious, as any others in the community. Not a few of them are already the pride of their friends, and an ornament to society, and becoming deservedly the hope of their country. ' If this statement be fallacious, the enemies of the existing government and administration of the University are called on to refute it. If true, they are bound in honor no less than in conscience, to acknowledge their error and revoke their accu- sations. It is only by the value of the products of an institu- tion that its real efficiencies and merit can be known. If they are excellent, all denunciation of the means and measures by which they have been formed, is but empty clamor, and must recoil with confusion on its inconsiderate authors.' 204 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. That everything may be distinctly understood, it is necessary to observe, that it is to the medical department of Transylvania, that pupils have resorted from 'fifteen States of the Union.' It is believed that the academical department did not, when in its most prosperous condition, receive pupils from more than six or seven States. The department of law was filled from a district still less comprehensive. The department of medicine has diffused its influence over the most extensive region of our country. After a few further remarks on the prosperity of Transyl- vania, from 1818 until 1824, the writer of the pamphlet thus expresses himself ;- ' It is doubtful whether an increase so rapid and extensive in the dispensing of public honors, has ever before been wit- nessed in any seat of science and letters. The event is so extraordinary, that if this statement of it could not be authenti- cated by official documents, it would scarcely fail to be regard- ed as fabulous. In behalf of the presiding officer it speaks a language which nothing can resist. It is not extravagant to add, that since the year 1818 the Commonwealth of Kentucky has derived from Transylvania University, a greater amount of additional consideration and lustre, compared with what she previously had, than any other State in the Union has received from a similar source within a period of thrice the duration. Intellectual property is the most permanent, brilliant, and valua- able capital that a State can possess. If skilfully employed, it increases with more than seven-fold interest. And it will not be denied that this University is an abundant source of it, not only to her parent State, but to Western America. ' The moral effect of an institution so flourishing is not con- fined within its own walls. It goes forth with its alumni in every direction, sustaining the sentiments that have been already awakened in them, elevating their views of duty and achieve- ment, and giving strength to their aspirations, and vigor and 205 perseverance to their professional exertions, until its influence is recognised in the improved condition of society at large. ' Such is the propitious and encouraging state of things, which is beginning to manifest itself among the people of the West. Already, to a certain extent, are the lights of Tran- sylvania appearing, and her influeuce becoming perceptible, throughout the entire populated portion of the valley of the Mississippi. Nor can even prejudice deny that this is owing, in no inconsiderable degree, to the labors of her President.' Alluding to a wish entertained, and a resolution formed, by the foes of Transylvania, to procure, if possible, the removal of Dr Holley from office, the same writer again remarks;- ' By a mere removal from place, the present presiding officer will not be forgotten. Memory will dwell, with increasing ad- miration and undiminished regret, on his many excellent and brilliant qualities, and the ordeal of comparison through which his successor must consequently pass, will be the more appal- ling. Every circumstance connected with the trial being cal- culated to render it peculiarly perilous, it may, in truth, be added, that few individuals could safely encounter it. For it cannot be concealed, that the aptitudes of the President for the station he holds, are as rare as they are valuable.' If, of the ability of Dr Holley's administration, and his faith- ful superintendence of the general interests of Transylvania, during the term of his presidency, more detailed and authentic testimony be required, it may be found in his final report to the Board of Trustees, on surrendering to them the institution, after the resignation of his office. That report, together with the reply of the Board, and a record of other proceedings of that body on the occasion, are here submitted to the inspection of the public. If those who were the foes and persecutors of the President can read them APPENDIX. 206 APPENDIX. without a blush of shame and a pang of remorse, the condition of their consciences and moral sentiments generally, is not to be envied. 'TO THE HONORABLE BOARD OF TRUSTEES OF TRANSYLVANIA UNIVERSITY. 'GENTLEMEN- ' My term of office as President of Transylvania Uni- versity, being ended by your acceptance of my resignation, and a committee of your respectable body having examined the condition of the institution, I beg leave to offer to you my final report, and in form to surrender into your hands the highly im- portant trust with which you were pleased nearly nine years since to invest me, under circumstances that lose none of their interest by their connexion with the present. The state of the institution may be considered in the following order;- 'The number of students for the present session. 'The condition of the grounds and buildings. 'The libraries, apparatus, and cabinet. 'The course of studies. 'The number of graduates from the beginning. 'Some of the wants of the University. 'I. The number of students for the present session. 'This number is 286, constituted in the following manner 'Medical Class, 190 'Seniors, 22 'Juniors, 12 'Sophomores, 11 'Freshmen, 10 'Preparatory Department, 39 'Private pupils in the building, 2 286 207 ' A catalogue of the names of this number would, according to custom, have been printed in January, bad not the session been divided into two for the year. It was my design to have one printed in the course of May next, had I continued in the University. As the trustees have by a deliberate vote, return- ed to the old plan of one session for the year, it remains with them to determine whether a catalogue shall now be published. I have prepared one in manuscript, which is complete, and which accompanies this report. How many may be found in the classes, under present circumstances, will be reported to you by the academical Faculty, or by my successor. 'Had there not been a resignation of the Presidency, in January 1826, an early period of the session, the news of which spread of course among the community, and especially in the South, whence we have been accustomed to receive many pupils; and had the gentlemen accepted the offices, to which they were appointed in the law department, upon the excellent plan of multiplying the Professorships, for the division of labor and the greater perfection of the instruction; we have abundant reason, in testimony of the best character from various quarters, to believe, that, notwithstanding the increase of schools and colleges, and the pecuniary pressure of the times, our whole number would be very little, if at all less during the present session than at any former period. 'II. The condition of the grounds and buildings. 'Without having seen the report of the committee, I trust I may safely refer to it for evidence that these are in good order. In the whole establishment, there is not a pane of glass out; the rooms are all clean and inhabitable; the grounds are smooth, and have been recently well raked; the gates and fences are as perfect as their age will permit; the pavements are in ex- cellent preservation, and the refectory, with its appurtenances, is fit for immediate occupation, and is one of the most con- venient and agreeable residences in town. The north and west corners are indeed sometimes penetrated by the rain 208 APPENDIX. and require a little attention from the housewright to remedy the evil. 'HI1. The libraries, apparatus, and cabinet. 'In regard to the libraries, I here present an extract from the report of the last joint committee of both houses of our Legislature, appointed to examine the University in all its de- partments. "' Law, four hundred and thirty volumes; medical, two thou- sand five hundred; academical, two thousand four hundred; total, five thousand four hundred and thirty. In addition to these, there are about one thousand in the libraries of the two college societies, and about six thousand in the town library; thus making between twelve thousand and thirteen thousand volumes, to which students in this place can have access, inde- pendently of the bookstores and private collections. Of the books belonging to the University, five sixths have been obtained under the present administration of the affairs of the institution, or since the year 1818, when the Legislature took it into their more immediate protection. Besides donations, which have been numerous, books to the amount of fourteen thousand seven hundred and seventyfive dollars, in the currency of the State have been placed upon our shelves. Nearly every one of our valuable works in science and criticism is included in this num- ber." ' Some additions have been made to each of these libraries, since the report of the Legislative committee. The medical now contains between three thousand and four thousand volumes. The apparatus in the department of mathematics and natural philosophy has been greatly enriched, within the past year, by the importation of many valuable and important instruments from France. The Morrison Professor is preparing a complete catalogue of these, and of the instruments which we before possessed, and will soon lay it upon your table. ' The apparatus in the care of the Chemical Professor, and the Anatomical Museum, are in the same condition as mentioned 27 APPENDIX[. 209 in my last report. The cabinet of minerals, with various speci- mens of Indian antiquities, which was deposited in the Univer- sity by the heirs of John D. Clifford, has been sold and remov- ed, but nearly two hundred interesting specimens of domestic minerals have just been received, as a present, from Dr Fowler of New Jersey, and are now in our cases. 'IV. The course of study. 'This appears, in extenso at the end of the printed catalogue which accompanies my report. It is full, and is found on ex- periment to be well arranged and well adapted to the state of the institution. It has been increased from time to time, until it is equal, as it is believed, to that of our oldest and best sem- inaries. The text books are generally such as are likely to continue a long time in favor. The deficiency in regard to the course of study in one particular, will be mentioned in another place. 'V. The number of graduates from the beginning. 'This is .666 'Bachelors of Arts . . . . . . . 182 'Masters of Arts .76 'Those who have received honorary degrees 40 'Medical graduates on examination . . 327 'Law graduates on examination . . . . 41 'Living, upwards of . . . . . . . 600 'The first degree conferred by the institution was in 1802, sixteen years before the regeneration of the University in 1818. In all that time only twentytwo persons, as far as the records show, received the honors of Transylvania. Since that date, within a period of less than nine years, although the course of study has been greatly extended and the examinations rendered much more severe and exact, five hundred and fiftyeight alumni have sought and received academical honors at our hands, and have carried with them the testimony of our signa- tures into every part of our community. I should be justly 210 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. charged with insensibility if I did not state this fact with pride, and remember it with delight, while I reflect with gratitude upon your constant cooperation, and that of my able and faithful colleagues in the responsible task of instruction. This alone is, and will be considered by the candid public as a full and un- answerable refutation of the calumnies which our enemies have invented and industriously circulated. We are satisfied with the contrast. Are they 'VI. Some of the wants of the University. 'These may be thus briefly enumerated; the revival of the law school with increased professorships; a professorship of modern languages, especially of the French and Spanish; a gymnasium, with a suitable extent of ground for the requisite variety of exercises, both useful and ornamental; a provision for the continued increase of the academical and law libraries, and the cabinet of minerals, and the foundation of a gallery, as soon as practicable, for the reception of the productions of genius in the arts of sculpture, painting, and engraving. ' In regard to the first of these wants, the revival of the law school with increased professorships, my opinion remains the same as when the subject was discussed at large before the Board. Your deliberations then resulted in the determination to establish four professorships; to have a short law session at the University for public lectures, with the understanding that the interval would be spent by the student in a law office, or in. legal study with some competent jurist; to have one of the professors from Louisiana, where the civil law is adopted, and to have particular attention paid to the science of political economy and legislation. This plan has met with very gener- al, if not with universal approbation, and has drawn forth in letters, now in my possession, the most explicit praise from a distinguished lawyer and statesman of Louisiana, and from an able and successful lecturer on the science of jurisprudence in Maryland. 211 ' I have unquestionable evidence that very many young men are ready to enrol their names as members of the law school of Transylvania, were it revived on this plan and put into immedi- ate operation. 'The importance of a professorship of modern languages, especially of the French and Spanish, has long been felt and often mentioned among yourselves. ' Our position in regard to Spanish America, our increasing intercourse with its states and governments, and their impor- tance to our commercial and political advancement, together with the bearing which their efforts must have upon the com- mon cause of civil and religious liberty, all point to the proprie- ty of attending immediately and fully to their language, while we offer suitable inducements to lead them to attend, in the same way, to ours, that we may extensively benefit each other, and both do our duty in relation to the great interests of mankind. ' The French is called for, not only as in an eminent degree the language of polite life, diplomacy, mathematics, physics, and modern tactics, but because it contains as valuable and various a literature as any language in the world, not excepting even our own. It is acknowledged by all to be indispensable to a successful and agreeable intercourse with different coun- tries. A knowledge of it is now demanded by public opinion for an accomplished scholar. ' Gymnastics have already begun to occupy so large a space in the eyes of the friends and patrons of education in our coun- try, that their course to popular favor cannot be arrested; and no institution can expect to maintain a successful competition before the community, without a provision for this department of the physical formation of character. Indeed and happily physical education has advanced in importance, just in propor- tion to the progress of sound philosophy. It is astonishing, that more attention has not been paid to it in the systems of instruc- tion both in England and America. Workshops, the labors of the garden and the field, the exercises of the circus, the tennis 212 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. court, the dancing hall and fencing room, with an area for military drilling and accomplishments, besides many other modes of exertion, are naturally suggested under this head. We have always suffered for the want of an extensive play ground and of adequate motives to call out our students regu- larly and effectually to the vigorous and manly exercises. A suitable establishment of this kind is as favorable to good mor- als and to intellectual advancement as it is to the health and strength of the body. The lawn in front of the University Hall, where these exercises have been forbidden, remains in my opinion still unsuited to them, and ought to be appropriated, as it has been, to walking, conversation, reflection, and other pur- poses not calculated to annoy the occupants of the public or private rooms of the building. ' In reference to the libraries, we want a much greater sup- ply of works in modern civil law and politics; in general his- tory, and especially the histories of our own States; in criticism, poetry, and the arts; in mathematics, and in general literature. Although we have many good dictionaries, there are still more and better of which we are in want. This supply is not so much for our undergraduates as for the graduated classes and the professors. ' A gallery for the productions of genius in sculpture, paint- ing, and engraving, is of course not suggested as an article of necessity, or of equal importance with those which have been already ennumerated, but as a department highly interesting and desirable, in the contemplation of the ultimate perfection to which we hope Transylvania will attain. It is not to be sup- posed that much would be done in this way, even if a deposi- tory were established; and yet were there such an apartment, and were but moderate exertions to be made by the friends of the institution, donations, as I have had occasion to know on other subjects, would multiply beyond the first conception of any of you; and a collection of works would be insensibly formed that would be of the greatest service in the cultivation of taste, and the promotion of a legitimate enjoyment. 213 'It is with great respect and deference that I make these suggestions, and leave them with your better judgment, and your united wisdom. They have occupied my mind often for years, and I have continually looked forward to a period when our means would allow us to put them into execution. Our personal and local jealousies, our political contentions, and our sectarian divisions, have thus far prevented a result which all enlightened men must acknowledge to be eminently desirable. 'If you, Gentlemen Trustees, now ask me, " Must we, or the town, or the county provide the pecuniary means adequate to these effects" I frankly and decidedly answer, No. You can- not do all that is required, nor the half, nor quarter, nor six- teenth. The town can do something, the county more; but no one section of the community ought to have this burden cast upon it, and most unquestionably no one section will assume or consent to it. This is a State institution, declared so repeat- edly and solemnly by the State itself, assembled in its repre- sentatives; and they will doubtless refuse to let it pass out of their hands. What then is the result Plainly this; The State must endow it amply, and endow it speedily or bear the disgrace of its decline, and perhaps of its fall. Individual efforts have heretofore chiefly maintained it, and large sub- scriptions have been collected from among yourselves and your neighbours. This resource is exhausted, or nearly so; and especially the motives are wanting, which are to rekindle pri- vate exertions. Unless the Commonwealth shall see its true interests in this particular, and act correspondingly, useful and successful as Transylvania has been, and to a certain extent may continue to be, it can never maintain its eminence, and continue to reflect lustre on the State, while it levies and col- lects contributions among its sister republics. ' Gentlemen, I rejoice to be able to state with truth and sin- cerity, that we have lived, met, and acted in harmony and in mutual confidence, for the whole time of our administration of the affairs of the University, since my connexion with it. You 214 APPEN!DIX. APPENDIX. have generously and promptly sustained me in all the trials incident to my office, and have given to me in private life the hand of sympathy and friendship. - My days have been happy among you, and I part from you with the sincerest affection and regret-a regret softened, indeed, but not prevented, by the various and exhilarating prospect before me. Allow me to assure you of my unalterable attachment, and of my continued regard for the interests of Transylvania University. 'May God bless you, myself, and the institution with its friends and alumni, wherever in his providence he may cast them. 'HORACE HOLLEY.' 'Lexington, Kentucky, March 24th, 1827.' ' Lexington, Kentucky, March 24th, 1827. 'DEAR SIR- ' The Trustees of Transylvania University, being deeply impressed with a sense of the value and importance of your faithful and distinguished services in presiding over the institu- tion for nearly nine years past, have appointed the undersigned a committee to express to you their decided approbation of the course you have pursued, in the discharge of the arduous duties which devolved upon you. 'When they recollect that during the sixteen years which preceded your coming amongst us, only twentytwo persons received the collegiate honors of this institution, and that during your comparatively short stay, six hundred and sixtysix young men have graduated and gone forth into the world, learned, enlightened, and adorned-and who are now the pride and ornaments of our common country-they cannot but deeply regret the causes which have induced you to separate yourself from the institution. ' Within the walls of Transylvania the fond recollections of her polite, kind, generous, learned, accomplished, and much loved President will never perish. The patronage of the 215 Commonwealth may be withdrawn, the institution may decline, the walls themselves may be crumbled; but so long as the name remains, there will be associated with it the most affec- tionate remembrances that flow from mutual attachments, or have a habitation in the hearts of those who are susceptible of the emotions of gratitude. To whatever clime your destiny may direct you, you will be pursued by the esteem and confidence of those who have been so long and so intimately associated with you; and whom we on this occasion represent. Farewell. 'JOHN BRADFORD. R. H. CHINN. 'THOMAS BODLEY. 'To HORACE HOLLEY, LL. D.' Committee.' ' The undersigned, a Committee appointed by the Board of Trustees of Transylvania University to receive from President Holley the buildings, c., and to procure a suitable person to occupy and take charge of the buildings lately occupied by the President, beg leave to report;- ' That, on the twentysecond instant, they examined all the buildings occupied by President Holley, and the University Hall, and the grounds attached thereto, and found all the build- ings and grounds in handsome and neat order. The buildings are all completely glazed, not a light of glass now out; every room clean swept and in neat order. The grounds around the tenement occupied by the President have been handsomely ornamented by Mrs Holley, and the shrubbery is now in hand- some order. Your committee have received from President Holley, all the buildings, c. attached to the University lot, in as good repair in every respect as could be expected from the length of time they have been in use; and are of opinion that Dr Holley is entitled to the thanks of the Board, for his atten- tention to the property belonging to the University. ' THOMAs BODLEY. 'JOHN BRAND.' 'Lexington, March 24th, 1827.' 216 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. After having examined the foregoing statements and docu- ments, is any one inclined to ask; If such were the talents of the President, such his powers as an instructer of youth, and such the general excellencies of his administration, whence is it that Transylvania declined, under his superintendence, in reputation and numbers In the Discourse on the Genius and Character of Dr Holley, and in the preceding part of the present note, this question is virtually answered. But for the more perfect elucidation of the subject, a few further details would seem to be requisite. It is well known to those who have studied human nature, as a science, or been observant of events in the history of man, that, jealousy perhaps excepted, the most inexorable and vindic- tive of passions are those of party in religion and politics. Nothing is sacred, respected, or tolerated, that becomes ob- noxious to them, and stands within their sweep. Nor is their power, at times, inferior to their rage for indiscriminate despla- tion. Virtue and vice, youth and age, beauty and deformity, the innocent and the guilty, individuals, institutions, and public bodies, things useful and things pernicious, fall before them in promiscuous ruin. In all ages, and in most countries, they have repeatedly rendered the habitations of man the hideous abode of hatred and malice, deluged them in blood, or other- wise converted them into sinks of pollution and wastes of mise- ry; and produced the most revolting scenes of atrocity that the world has witnessed. And these passions were fearfully let loose, with the fell ferocity of ' the dogs of war,' for the pur- poses of vengeance on Transylvania and her President. Fortunately for the cause of liberal thinking and catholic research, the stake, the faggot, and the wheel, the guillotine, the stiletto, and the gibbet, as engines of persecution, whether religious or political, are forbidden alike by the laws of our country and the sentiments of the age. But others, in their nature no less vindictive, and in their effects on their victims scarcely less agonizing, are abundantly employed, not only by N 28 217 the openly atrocious and profligate, but by those whom the world calls patrons of virtue, models of piety, and ministers of peace. These are falsehood, calumny, and denunciation, in every form that malice can prompt, and ingenuity devise modes of moral assassination more detestable, because more cowardly, and scarcely less destructive, than that perpetrated by personal violence. And, for the overthrow of Dr Holley and the institution over which he presided, they were employed with an industry and force of effect, that have rarely been equalled. To specify the various shapes they were made to assume, and the different channels through which they were directed, would be, if not impracticable, tedious and offensive. They were widely circulated in secret whispers and loud re- ports, in private epistles traced in letters of moral poison, and breathing a spirit worthy of such characters, in defamatory pamphlets poured in a gratuitous deluge over the land, and in numerous articles in the public prints, many of them anony- mous, and not a few with names. To collect facts, which, by artful interpretation, false color- ing, or daring mendacity, might be tortured into suitable mate- rials for such productions and purposes, means the most treach- erous and dishonorable were adopted. A system of espionage, of the most revolting description, was artfully organized and inexorably pursued. The nature of the means, provided they were efficient, was entirely disregarded, and the end alone held sternly in view. Charity scarcely forbids the belief, that the very profligacy of the means rendered them the more congenial and acceptable to the spirits that employed them. From his liberal hospitalities, and the frankness and inviting courtesy of his manners, the residence of President Holley was the resort of much company. Dining and evening parties in it were frequent and large, and were composed chiefly of the most enlightened and polished society of the place; but they were not always without mixture-were not at all times an assemblage of friends. 218 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. Into these gay and innocent circles of sprightliness and mirth, where the mind is unbent and the spirits unfettered; where, in the freshness of sportive pastime and mirth, the piquant jest is promptly met by the lively repartee; where gravity is dismiss- ed as an unsuitable companion, and wit is much more welcome than wisdom; and where the entire and most rational object of the occasion is to bury distinctions of rank, profession, and belief, forget care, throw off all things burdensome and gloomy, and be relaxed, delighted, and refreshed-into these circles, the genuine Edens of social life; where there is no reserve, because there is no suspicion, but conversation is mere thinking and feeling aloud, and where treachery itself might forget its purpose and learn to become honest, not one, but clans of ser- pents gained admission; and worthily did they personate their great archetype. Vigilant, insidious, and artful, they played, with dexterity, the part of spies and practised informers. Gliding singly through the company, yet acting in concert, conversations were listened to by them, expressions noted, dresses observed, songs remembered, and even the furniture of the apartments marked, and the whole thrown together in their memory for future concoction. And when the mixture, sufficiently steeped in their native ' hebenon' and ' with Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,' had become assimilated to their own spirits, they sent it forth, through numerous channels, to empoison the sentiments of the community against the pre- siding officer of Transylvania. That this representation, neither exaggerated nor discolored, is substantially true, some of the public prints of the day, and the personal recollections of many, abundantly testify. If Dr Holley, in a spirit of courtesy, paid to any of his com- pany a passing compliment, was amused with their dancing, delighted with a song of sentiment and feeling, pleased with a sprightly jest or bon mot, or exchanged, in conversation, for the enjoyment he experienced, and to heighten that of others, one of his brilliants of wit, his language and deportment were pro- nounced either light and undignified, or immoral and profane. If, in color, fashion, or adjustment, a lady's costume did not exactly suit the taste of the informer, it was indelicate, and therefore corrupting to the mind of the President and the morals of his pupils; and if a female bust, in composition or marble, placed as an ornament on a pedestal or a mantel, was not covered to the very ears in an ' inky cloak,' an ecclesiastic's surplice, or some other tasteless and unfitting garb, it was ' worse poison to men's souls' than a pagan idol, or a ' Druid's oak.' Such were the unmanly, calumnious, and unchristian rep- resentations, oral and written, in which those spies and violators of hospitality treacherously indulged themselves. And for what purpose To prove that Dr Holley was no Christian! To affix on him the stain pertaining to infidelity, and show him to be a dangerous instructer of youth! As if Christianity must cancel taste, case the heart in marble, extinguish in it the glow of social charity, and render it insensible to those delightful emotions, which are awakened by the innocent pleasures of life! Or, worse still, as if it were a source of letters patent, to perpetrate acts, under the guise of friendship, and in violation of hospitality, which pagans and savages hold in abhorrence! The more certainly to destroy the character of Dr Holley, by the charges of infidelity and a defect of certain moral ob- servances, his movements and actions, wherever he went, ap- peared to be placed under a system of espionage. And this was accompanied with a settled resolution, that matter of accu- sation against him must be attained. When no fault was de- tected, therefore, one was immediately fabricated; so that deport himself as he might, the issue was the same. Immacu- lateness itself would have been no protection to him. An article of statuary, such as all persons of taste are pleased to possess, and accustomed to admire, stood in the drawing-room. From this was raised, against the President and his family, a heavy accusation of indelicacy and im- morality. 220 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. Were it admissible to descend to particulars, many curious occurrences confirmatory of this might be easily cited. But a faithful execution of the task, repulsive from the nature of the materials to be handled, would be a satire too severe to make a part of this note. Is any one inclined to ask, Wherefore is it that a scheme was thus projected and unremittingly pursued, to destroy the repu- tation and standing of Dr Holley The answer is obvious. The charges against him were preferred by the deadly foes of Transylvania. The institution was now in a flourishing con- dition, and he was the recognised source of its prosperity. To ruin it, therefore, they perceived that they had only to ruin him. His intellect and attainment were above their reach. They had already aimed at them with the fellest purpose; but their feeble missiles had fallen short of the mark. Nothing, therefore, of hope remained to them, but from arraigning him before an excited public, on a charge of irreligion. On Dr Holley's character, as a presiding officer and an in- structer of youth, the highest possible encomium was virtually bestowed, in the attack that was thus made on his religious principles. The encomium was, that the pillar of strength of the University was in him; that in his intellectual qualifications and faithful services, as a president and teacher, he was invul- nerable; and that, therefore, to overthrow, at once, himself and the institution, he must be assailed on imputed disaffection to the christian religion-a ground of accusation, on which, were Paul of Tarsus or the beloved disciple alive, and arraigned before the prejudices and passions of the public, his repu- tation for Orthodox piety would be destroyed. So certain is condemnation before a popular ecclesiastical court, when false- hood is both accuser and witness, and bigotry and fanaticism sit in judgment. And, in cases of persecution, it is of such materials alone that the tribunal is composed. The following letter from Dr Holley to a friend in Boston, is a frank and forcible avowal of his impressions and sentiments 221 on this subject generally. But it is something more. It is proof of the fallacy of the assertion, made by his enemies, that, by heretical preaching, he had lost the confidence and sympa- thy of his pastoral charge in Boston. Indeed, the existing proof of that fallacy, derivable from the most authentic sources, is abundant and overwhelming. The affectionate and glowing warmth, with which his late congregation in Boston cherish his memory, and the delight with which they dwell on his many excellencies, are testimony conclusive, that no pastor can be more deeply enshrined in the hearts of his people. ' Transylvania University, July 18th, 1819. 'D1EAR SIR- ' Your letter of the 28th of June came by the last mail. The respect and affection, which you express for me, give me great pleasure, and are cordially reciprocated. I shall never remember Hollis Street Congregation without a sincere regard and attachment extending to all, and to each individual. Ten years of my life were spent with them in harmony, usefulness, confidence, and happiness. In all these respects, as far as I can judge, few ministers were ever more fortunate than myself in their relation to a parish. It is remarkable that not a single difficulty ever rose between me and the people, although I preached with more boldness and freedom than perhaps any man in the place. The congregation doubled itself in the time, and we parted with mutual regret. I did not expect to increase my happiness by taking a more important station, but anticipated some privations and difficulties which I have met; privations in regard to social intercourse, and difficulties arising from various sources. For these, however, I was well pre- pared, and they have not exceeded my foresight. Religious perversity is as common here as it is in New England, and sectarians are as much inclined to slander and persecution. I have a good body of intelligent and independent men to aid me iB overcoming the assaults of the fanatical and the super- 222 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. stitious. What is called Orthodoxy in Kentucky, is the same illiberal and proscribing spirit that it is in your vicinity. Genuine orthodoxy is catholic and charitable, as well as true and pious. On these subjects, I have found my sentiments illustrated and strengthened by every hour of reflection since I left Boston; and the sermons, which I preached to you, particularly during the last year or two of my ministry in Hollis Street, appear to me daily more and more true, and to acquire increasing practi- cal importance. Sectarism is the bane of the religious world. Mystical preaching can never be estimated at too low a value. It is a deception practised upon the community, for which a dear price is paid, not only in money, but in peace, morals, and happiness. The miserable declamation, which is handed down from one generation of ministers to another, is a most impudent carricature of God and man, of time and eternity. A multitude of ministers must of course be excepted from this censure; but I do not know any whole sect of them deserving the exception. Many ministers of all sects are good men and ornaments to the world; but others are tares mingled with the wheat, corrupting the fields of religion with the noxious seeds which they pro- fusely-scatter over the soil. All that I would say to my late congregation would be to repeat the instructions which closed my ministry with them. Observation, common sense, reason, pure morals, our natural and irradicable affections when culti- vated and sanctified by intelligence and benevolence, the social virtues, a catholic temper, patience under the contemplation of the follies and prejudices of society, at the same time a love of truth and a judicious zeal for its defence and propagation, piety united to philanthropy, such a mode of Christian faith as makes it harmonize with the works and providence of God, such an interpretation of the bible as does not institute a war between the revelation by book and that by nature, the language of encouragement from the lips of moderation and experience, a deaf ear to the ITabitual crimination of others' motives, a strong reliance upon the wisdom of God in the constitution of things, 223 a steady belief that all will come out right at last, good nature and complacency when many about us are angry, and a perse- vering pursuit of some useful occupation that will afford us a competency in life, are the elements of a wise, religious, and truly orthodox man, and will lead to present happiness and future salvation. 'Yours, with great regard, I HORACE, HOLLEY.' Is it again asked, Whence it was that Transylvania had foes, who were anxious to destroy her By a writer, who is one of the oldest and most respectable inhabitants of the West, whose observation and experience embrace four fifths of a century, and whose opportunities to be correctly informed on the subject under consideration cannot be surpassed, this question is answered in the following terms ;- 'The flourishing state to which Transylvania had risen in 1824, excited both envy and jealousy in the breasts of some who had formerly participated in its management, whilst in a languid state. It was evident to all that the change was prin- cipally to be attributed to the judicious choice of a President. It was therefore natural that some who were in office at the time when the last election was made, and who were not re- elected, should feel dissatisfied, and more especially at the flattering prospects of success under the management of a new Board of Trustees. ' The brilliant talents of the President had filled the empty fseats o the University with students. Consequently the only means of checking its growing greatness, was, to destroy the popularity of the presiding officer; to accomplish which, the most probable measure was to attack his religious character.' That envy and jealousy were industrious agents in the pass- ing scenes, no one could doubt, who had a competent knowledge of persons and circumstances, and was observant of events. 224 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. Few men who have ever stood out in light and relief, will submit, without a struggle, to be thrown into shade. And those who have failed in an enterprise themselves, are not only apt to rejoice at the failure of others in the same project, but are too often inclined to put obstacles in their way. This is human nature. Of the feeble, pusillanimous, and envious, it is always true. The magnanimous alone are superior to such meanness. But, if a judgment may be formed from the tenor of their de- portment, the foes of Dr Holley were strangers alike to mag- nanimity and justice. There is ground of belief, therefore, that the writer referred to is not entirely mistaken in his conjecture. Certainly the whole conduct of those who were the assailants of the President had so little ' relish of salvation in it,' that no sound reason can be assigned for attributing it to motives of purity and honor. It was often asked, at the time, and the question has been since not unfrequently repeated, Why Dr Holley did not adopt, in person, some vigorous means of self-protection Why, since he was assailed in concert and system, he trusted to an irregu- lar defence of him by others, instead of more efficiently defend- ing himself The answer is, he suffered himself to be controlled by the opinion and advice of over-cautious, not to call them timid friends, who, with the best intentions, do, very often, more mischief than open enemies. A ' dignified silence,' on his part, was strongly recommended, as his best reply to the slanderous falsehoods that were circu- lated against him, and was confidently pronounced a sufficient armour against all the poisoned shafts of his enemies. Instances may be imagined, and have often occurred, in which such advice is founded in wisdom. But the case of Dr Holley is believed to have been different; and some of his friends remonstrated, at the time, against the passiveness of the course he pursued. They first delicately hinted, and after- wards firmly declared to him, that further delay in defending 29 I 225 himself would be construed, not merely by his enemies, but by the public, into an inability to -defend. In distant battle, the commander in chief directs the move- ments, and confides to his troops the immediate management of the enginery of war. Yet, even then, system and concert of action must prevail. But, in close fight, when the enemy are around him, and aiming at him individually from every quarter, he must place himself at the head of his columns, lead in per- son, and try the vigor of his own arm. Such precisely was the condition of the conflict in the midst of which the President was placed. By remaining inactive, therefore, he exposed himself as much as possible to the aim of his assailants, without availing himself of any of the numerous advantages of self-defence. Advice to that effect, however friendly and kind in spirit and intention, was certainly unwise. As well might a warrior be counselled to lay aside, at once, his shield and his sword, and stand naked and defenceless, when the missiles of an enemy resolved on his death are showered on his person. President Holley was assailed most fatally through the press; and by the same engine ought he to have been defended, sup- plied with materials from his own pen. Had an academical paper been established in the bosom of the institution, and ably and judiciously conducted, as it could have been, it would have succeeded, and the University been saved. Of the truth of this Dr Holley was himself persuaded, and meditated, at one time, embarking in the enterprise. But it was then too late. Mischief had done its work, and the effects were irretrievable. But had such a paper been erected at an earlier period, its influence would have been irresistible. It would have disabused and enlightened the public mind, prepared it more fully for the patronage and encouragement of science and letters, made known extensively the real condition of the University, and thus defeated the efforts of its enemies. 0 226 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. Although a number of sensible and well written articles, in favor of the institution and its presiding officer, appeared, at different times, in the public prints, there was no harmony of design, or concert of action, between their authors. Everything defensive was individual and irregular, and possessed nothing of the power of united numbers. But the attack was a matter of concert, and was conducted by system. The assailants moved in masses, under strict discipline, with a common object in view, and were, therefore, successful. Had the clamor against the administration of the University originated in nothing but a regard for the religious instruction of its pupils, it would have been completely silenced by a plan prepared and reported by the President, approved unanimously by the Academical Faculty, sanctioned by the Trustees, and carried into effect, in the spring of 1824. This plan will be best understood, from a perusal of the preamble and resolutions reported and adopted, on the occasion of its establishment, with a brief commentary on it from the pen of Dr Holley. It need scarcely be added, that the fact of the President being himself the author of the plan, is an ample refutation of the charge, that he was hostile to Christianity, and solicitous to train his pupils in infidelity-a charge, which, although repeated by a thousand calumniators, not one of that thousand himself believed. 'RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION AND WORSHIP IN TRANSYLVANIA UNIVERSITY. 'On Monday last, the following plan of religious instruction and worship in the University was, by a unanimous vote of the Academical Faculty, laid before the Board of Trustees, and was by them unanimously adopted, thirteen of the seventeen members being present. By a resolution, in which all con- curred, their names are subscribed to the measure. It was also resolved, that the editors of newspapers in the town be re- 227 quested to insert in their columns a copy of this result of the Faculty and the Board. It is believed, that this is a measure eminently calculated to unite public sentiment, to secure general confidence, to advance the interests of truth, to extend cathol- icism, and to excite a spirit of emulation in the cause of re- ligious liberality. It would hate been gratifying to every patriot and philanthropist to witness the unanimity and excellent tone of feeling, with which a measure, having so many relations to personal and sectarian partialities and antipathies, was received and adopted by an unusually full meeting of our large Board of Trustees, embracing a representation of the ancient church of God under the Old Covenant, and of the most respectable and popular denominations under the New. The truly religious and liberal will rejoice to find, that an experiment is now to be made in earnest, and under circumstances which warrant no small degree of confidence in its success, to ascertain how far the professed believers of the bible and worshippers of God, though they are known by different names and associations, can harmonize in the management of the great interests of educa- tion, as connected with the most important and practical truths and duties of religion. Qur situation is as novel as it is interest- ing, and is well fitted to attract the attention and enlist the hopes of all the friends of human improvement and happiness. The - candid and reflecting will see in this measure the reality of a religious influence in its prompt and cordial adoption for the most valuable ends. In the list of names here presented to the public, may be found the representatives of seven religious denominations, namely, the Ancient People of God, the Roman Catholics, the Episcopalians, the Presbyterians, the Congre- gationalists, the Baptists, and the Methodists, and among these, several clergymen, who, though sincerely devoted to the prin- ciples of their respective communions, are heartily engaged in this auspicious enterprise in favor of our common religion. A strong persuasion is cherished, and an earnest prayer is offered, that our Universal Father and Friend will, in his APPENDIX. 228 APPENDIX. gracious providence, bless and prosper this united effort to do more than ordinary good, in removing prejudice, in allaying jealousy, in awakening confidence, in reviving charity, in en- livening hope, and. in extending the benevolent dominion of religion and virtue. 'HORACE HOLLEY.' 'Transylvania University, April 9th, 1824.' 'At a meeting of the Academical Faculty of Transylvania University, April 5th, 1824, the President submitted for con- sideration the following Preamble and Resolutions, which, in substance, he had twice brought before the Faculty several months since, but had consented to the postponement of a final determination upon them, in consequence of the doubts of their utility, which were expressed by the Reverend Professor of Natural Philosophy and History. It being understood that these doubts were removed, and that there was a prospect of a unanimous adoption of the measure, the President again called the attention of the Faculty to this interesting and important subject. ' The By-laws of the University contain an article in regard to the religious instruction and worship of the institution in these words,;-" It shall be the duty of the President, or in his absence, of one of the Professors, to perform divine service on every sabbath, at least once, in the Chapel of the University, to such officers and students as may choose to attend. And it is particularly enjoined upon the students to attend public worship somewhere on the sabbath." This duty was discharged for a considerable time by the President, when, at his own re- quest, he was permitted, in consequence of his numerous duties, in the superintendence of the establishment, and in its general improvement, -as well as in various departments of instruction, to omit this public weekly labor. The principal religious sects having churches in the town, the students had an opportunity 229 to attend such as they, or their parents, preferred. It is be- lieved that in this way they have generally received religious instruction, and participated in public worship, during the whole of the present administration of the affairs of the University. The Faculty, however, knowing it to be the earnest desire of the Trustees, as well as their own, to have, as far as possible, the best advantages of religious instruction and worship, secured to the youth of the institution, and finding from experience that an improvement can be made in the existing regulation upon the subject, recommend to the Trustees the adoption of a measure, which provides, as it is believed, in a safe and effectu- al manner, for the accomplishment of the several purposes in- volved in this object of general solicitude, while it guards against dangers and abuses. ' The members of the Faculty are aware, that sectarian pe- culiarities ought not to be introduced into a State University, where there is no established church with legal privileges, and where young men are collected within its walls, from families of all religious denominations, to receive instruction in literature and science. At the same time it appears to be the general desire and expectation, in accordance with some of the best and strongest principles of our nature, that the great doctrines of our common religion, those in which the good and pious of all denominations agree, should be taught with the other branch- es of education, if a mode of doing this can be adopted, with- out opening the door for polemical and sectarian divinity to enter, and disturb, and pervert the minds of the students, and thus give just occasion for offence to the parents and friends. The principles of religion, in which the enlightened and be- nevolent of all denominations harmonize, are happily the most important, are such as all patriots and devout men would wish to see inculcated in a State University, leaving the particular tenets of different sects to be taught in families, parishes, and theological schools. The plan, now offered, embraces as many points as the nature of the case appears to admit with 230 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. propriety, and provides the same kind and degree of safety for the University in this respect, which are provided for the com- munity at large under our free government; namely, the equal distribution of the proper means and opportunities among the ministers of the various religious denominations. All the sects are included in this catholic measure. None have a right to complain, while all have the privilege of appearing before the youth of the University to recommend and enforce their com- mon religion. The exclusion of any would be a departure from the principles which have governed, and still govern, the in- structers and the Board of Trustees. Although respectable clergymen from all religious denominations are thus allowed to contribute their aid to the interests of the University, in promot- ing the great doctrines of our holy religion, and in illustrating and enforcing the pure morals, which it requires, yet, from the actual circumstances of the town and its immediate vicinity, there are four or five denominations, whose ministers will have the opportunity to officiate chiefly in the regular course. These are .the Roman Catholics, the Episcopalians, the Presbyterians, the Baptists, and the Methodists. Provision is made to give to others a suitable opportunity to be heard. ' With these views, the Faculty respectfully offer the follow- ing Resolutions to the consideration of the Trustees as the re- sult of their deliberations. 'Resolved by the Trustees of Transylvania University-That, as they have heretofore considered it their duty, and have made provision in their laws to discharge it, though the execution of this design, in the manner prescribed, has been interrupted by the force of circumstances, so they still consider it their duty to cause the great doctrines and virtues of our common religion, as they are gathered from the Word of God in the Old and New Testaments, to be taught in this institution, so far as it is practicable, free from all sectarian peculiarities, and from all the bitterness of religious controversy. 231 ' Resolved-That the imperative form of the existing article in our by-laws upon this subject, since the President has been allowed at his own request to omit the performance of the labor assigned to him, and which was virtually modified at the time of granting this indulgence, be now, and it hereby is, exchanged for the permissive. ' Resolved-That in order to carry into effect, for the future, what has always been the desire of this Board, as well as of the President and Professors, and what is believed to be accordant with the wishes of the Legislature and of the people, and to secure the impartial instruction of the students in the most use- ful and important principles of our belief, the ministers of the religious denominations in Lexington be invited to preach in turn, during the academical session, in the Chapel of the Uni- versity, at nine o'clock in the morning of each Sabbath; and that the students, who live in town, be required to attend, unless excused by the Faculty upon satisfactory evidence of conscien- tious objections on their own part, or on that of their parents or guardians. ' Resolved-That each clergyman have the liberty to invite, with the consent of the Chairman or President, any minister, in good standing, of his own or of any other denomination, to officiate in his turn; and in order to enjoy the benefit of the talents, learning, and piety of distinguished or useful preachers in good standing from abroad, when they may be travelling through our part of the country, it is resolved that the Chair- man of the Board, or the President of the University, be au- thorised to invite such persons to officiate in the Chapel, either at nine o'clock in the morning, or at a suitable time in the day or the evening. Should the hour of nine in the morning be selected in this case, notice must be given, on the preceding day, to the gentleman whose turn it may be to preach at that time, and his consent must be obtained. ' Resolved-That for the present the ministers of the follow- ing churches in Lexington, the Roman, the Episcopalian, the 232 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. Presbyterian, the Baptist, and the Methodist-Episcopal, be re- quested by the Chairman to preach in turn, in the Chapel, ac- cording to the foregoing arrangement, and that the third Sunday of the present month be the period to begin this duty, it being understood, that, where there are ministers of the same denom- ination, they be requested to take the turn alternately. Should any of the ministers decline to preach under this arrangement, the others are to be requested to take the turn in their order. 'Resolved-That as the community may desire to know what is the character of every kind of instruction given in the University, and as it is in all respects useful to gratify this de- sire, it is proper to announce in this connexion, what has been heretofore known as the practice of the institution, that the ex- aminations are, as they always have been, public; and that decorous and reasonable questions may be put to the students under examination, by any respectable person present, not only as it regards literature and science in general, but also the principles which are taught in moral philosophy and religion, so far as the latter is included in the course-principles which it is the avowed purpose of the Instructer in this department, as well as his duty and his inclination, to illustrate and enforce, agreeably to the known wishes of the Trustees and the public, in perfect conformity to the word and will of God as expressed in the sacred scriptures; it being understood as the simple object of this annunciation, that nothing be taught in opposition to the divine revelation of truth contained in the Old and New Testa- ments, the oracles of the religion of the country. The Trus- tees, as well as the several Faculties, have always been desir- ous, and still are, of rendering the examinations as extensively useful as possible, and of making them a satisfactory test of the real character of the education given in the University. 'Passed unanimously by ' HORACE HOLLEY, LL. D. President. 'ROBERT HAMILTON BISHOP, A. M., Professor of NTatural Philosophy and History. 30 233 'JOHN ROCHE, A. M., Professor of the Greek and Latin Languages. 'MANN BUTLER, A. M., Professor of Mathematics. 'Adopted unanimously by 'John Bradford, Esq. Chairman; Thomas Bodley, Esq.; Charles Humphreys, Esq.; John Westley Hunt, Esq.; Elisha Warfield, Esq.; Rev. James Fishback, D. D.; Elisha I. Winter, Esq.; Rev. George Thomas Chapman, A. M.; James Trotter, Esq.; William Leavy, Esq.; Charles Wilkins, Esq.; Benjamin Gratz, A. M.; Rev. George Christopher Light.' Notwithstanding the conciliatory character and acknowledged excellencies of this plan, .and the fidelity with which, for a time, it was carried into operation, it had no effect in mitigating the determined spirit of hostility, or checking the streams of licen- tious slander, that threatened the destruction of Transylvania and her President. Indeed those members of the clergy who had been loudest in their complaints of a want of religious dis- cipline in the institution, were the only ones who, now, refused to cooperate with their brethren in the introduction of it. Had it been previously wanting, these circumstances afford- ed abundant testimony, that the object of the complainants was not the promotion of religious instruction among the pupils, but the gratification of feelings which shall not now be named-not to reform and sustain the University, but to destroy both it, and its presiding officer. Rendered at length uncomfortable by persecution and slan- der, unable to induce the Legislature of the Commonwealth to supply the pecuniary wants of Transylvania, and disappointed in his prospects of extensive usefulness, Dr Holley signified to the Trustees, in the spring of 1826, his intention to resign the Presidency of the institution. The citizens of Lexington will not soon forget the feelings with which they received information of this event. They APPENDIX. 234 APPENDIX. looked to the resignation of the President, and his departure from among them, not merely as a misfortune, but a calamity. That his personal friends, and the enlightened friends of West- ern literature, should regard with such anticipations the move- ment he meditated, was altogether natural, and therefore to be expected. But not a few who had been hostile to him, es- pecially those of them who held real estate in the town, began to repent of the course they had pursued. They seemed to awaken, as from a dream, and to perceive now, for the first time, that he was in no small degree necessary to their indi- vidual prosperity. Some of them expressed a readiness to unite in a general request, that he would retain his station, de- claring that he should, in future, have their cordial support. But their repentance came late, and could not avail them. Although, some months after writing it, Dr Holley was in- duced to recall his letter to the Board, in which he had made known to them his intended resignation, and did not actually resign until 1827, he could not cancel the effects it had pro- duced. Intelligence of his declared purpose having been, in a short time, extensively diffused, gave a blow to the institution from which it did not recover. Having, by his talents and reputa- tion, built up and sustained the academical department, the opinion was cherished and propagated, that, in losing him, it would necessarily lose its usefulness and standing. Instead of looking to Transylvania, therefore, as a seat of instruction, the youth of the country began now to direct their attention to other institutions. Notwithstanding the slanders let loose on him, and the per- secutions he encountered, these facts indicate more forcibly than language can express, the deep homage that was paid to Dr Holley, and the unbounded confidence that continued to be reposed in him, as a President and instructer, by the people of the West. Had he not been acknowledged to be preeminently great, he would not have been regarded as the sole support of 235. an entire department. That department, as just intimated, was known to be peculiarly the production of his genius. He had planted the seed, and reared and sustained the spreading scion; and now that his culture was about to be withdrawn, it was ex- pected to fade, and become leafless and uninviting. The very fact of his being slandered and persecuted, was proof of his greatness. Addison long since asserted, that ' envy [and he might have added calumny] is a tax which a man owes to his cotemporaries for the privilege of being distinguished;' and both history and observation confirm the maxim. The oak re- ceives both the lightning and the storm, while the bramble escapes. In like manner, it is the elevated and the powerful who suffer martyrdom, while the lowly and the feeble are pro- tected by their weakness. In every conspiracy for the perpetration of mischief, the few lead and are guilty, while the many suffer themselves to be led, and are deceived. Such was the case in relation to Dr Holley. The number of his real enemies was not great. There existed in him noth- ing to make it so. And in proportion as he became more ex- tensively and intimately known in person, it necessarily dimin- ished. No one of liberal feelings was ever in his company or his hospitable mansion, without being delighted with his conver- sation and manners. He had not in him a quality to excite enmity, except in the bosoms of the envious and the jealous; and they are enemies to all their superiors. They hate dis- tinction, because it overlooks them, and ' keeps them from the sun.' They would gladly exterminate true, to secure to them- selves comparative, but spurious greatness. In these individuals, pertness and conceit are usually as con- spicuous as envy and jealousy. To all such, President Holley could scarcely fail to be an object of dislike. His intellectual strength and splendor mortified them. Their presumption or petulence drew down on them, occasionally, the chastisement of his wit, or the severer lash of his sarcasm and irony; and he 236 APPENDIX. never condescended to gratify their vanity, or flatter their pride. His polished courtesy to others was construed, perhaps, into neglect of them, so that they hated him alike for what he gave, and what he withheld. To pedantry, of every description, and all kinds of petty pretence, he was an object no less of dread than dislike. His scorn of them he took very little pains to conceal. Nor did learned dogmatism experience his sympa- thy. But to the lowly and unpretending, in common with the highly gifted and enlightened, few men have been able to ren- der themselves so acceptable. Could he have condescended to flatter some of the individuals who most deeply slandered him, and soothed them with the belief that he thought them distinguished, they would have compromised with their inferi- ority, moved around him as satellites, cringed to him as minions, and ministered to his renown by the breath of adulation. But, by honrjsty and independence, he forfeited the praise which in- sincerity would have secured to him. On the political opposition and obloquy which Dr Holley sustained, it is needless to dwell. Although less rancorous and defamatory than those which he encountered from his theo- logical enemies, they were equally unmerited, and, from alienat- ing the feelings of a greater body of the community, were calculated to be more certainly overwhelming in their effects. The sweep of a tide of adverse political feeling, no individual, in public station, is able to resist. That a few speeches of a political character were permitted, perhaps indiscreetly, to be delivered by the pupils in the Chapel of the University, is true. But it is equally so, that they were not restricted to one side of any agitated question. Free and fair discussion was permitted. And there were never wanting youths of spirit and ability, to appear in defence as well as in attack. Nor was it ever intended that these exercises should give to the institution a political cast. And if such an intention had been cherished, it could not possibly have been thus accomplished. The cause was entirely inadequate to the effect. APPENDIX. 237 It is but justice to add, that the speech which gave most offence, was commenced by the young gentleman who deliver- ed it, without the President's knowledge of the subject of it; and it was thought unnecessary, if not too severe, to rebuke the speaker by checking him in the course of it. But the Presi- dent explained the matter fully to those most concerned, and never afterwards permitted an exercise of the kind in the insti- tution without knowing the subject of it. This ingenuousness ought to have been received as entire satisfaction; and the whole affair should have passed into oblivion. But it is much to be lamented, that the memory of political hostility is always tenacious, its feelings too often vindictive, ond its aim deadly. Nor has it often manifested these attributes more strongly and inexorably than in the present instance. That he might not only enrich and strengthen their intellects, but teach them how to use them, the President was in the practice of inviting his pupils, when engaged in recitation, to debate with himself. But he never, on these occasions, intro- duced questions connected with the party politics of the day. In a particular manner, the topics that awakened the political passions of the State, were rigidly excluded from the halls of the University. To the truth of this, the pupils of the time are ready to testify. On one occasion, in the law department, a very animated discussion, on a question of constitutional law, was carried on, through several lectures, by the President and one of the Pro- fessors. In the opinion of a large majority of the class, the discussion resulted in favor of the former. But here again there was nothing of party. The debate was conducted on general principles, from which, in no in- stance, either in politics or religion, did Dr Holley, as an instructer, ever descend. As often as he called up those sub- jects, in his academical prelections, he treated them as sciences, rigidly excluding from them everything that participated of sect or party. Happy would it be for the great and growing APPENDIX. 238 APPENDIX. community of our country, were these topics discussed in as much purity, and handled with as benevolent and liberal a spirit, in all other places, as they were in Transylvania. The belief that her peaceful and classical halls were perturbed and pollut- ed by heresy, or dangerous doctrines of any kind, arose, not from the slightest evidence of the fact, but from the maddening effect of party and sectarian passions, in politics and religion, on the intellect of the country. The man who reels himself, from an overheated brain, fancies every one he sees in the same condition. The frenzy of party without the walls of Transylvania, induced a belief that there was party within them. By diffusing light, and imbuing with liberal principles the youth of the West, the teachings in the University were calculated to temper and weaken party asperities, not to heighten and con- firm them. Hence the political opposition which Dr Holley encountered, in his official capacity, was the more unjust and surprising, and the more to be lamented. Indeed the entire fortunes of the President in the West, were composed of opposite and warring elements-incongrui- ties of an extraordinary character. With manners the most attractive, and talents and attain- ments the most splendid and opulent, he was assailed by enemies who deeply hated him, and boldly pronounced him superficial in intellect. Without ever once arraying himself against either the politics or religion of the country, he was openly denounced as an enemy to both. Although he exerted himself, with a fidelity which has never been surpassed, to cultivate, in the youth under his care, both as citizens and men, sound principles and sentiments of virtue, he was pronounced a corrupter of them in morals and piety. And while, in proportion to his means, he was doing much more for learning than any other presiding officer of a similar institution in the United States, it was publicly declared, that he made, in instruction, no adequate return for the monies bestowed on the University by the Commonwealth. 239 These were acts of injustice and cruelty, of which the in- habitants of Kentucky should be fully informed. And when prejudice and passion, so artfully excited, shall have passed from their minds, and the President shall appear to them in his real character, radiant in talent, faithful in service, and sound in virtue, that generous and high-minded people will yet do justice to his memory, and visit his enemies with merited retri- bution. Were it the object of the writer of this note to portray Dr Holley in his private capacity, as the head of a family, and a member of the community, there would not be wanting ground of abundant encomium. But the task would be superfluous. It would be to eulogize the strength and courage of Hercules. As no one ever doubted these qualities in the hero, so none, who came within the sphere of his influence, have reason to question the private and social worth of the President of Transylvania. His hospitalities, courtesies, and general kindnesses were proverbial and conspicuous. Lexington felt them in every quarter, in common with strangers by whom she was visited. No individual of respectability was ever neglected by him, whether he was a passing traveller, a temporary sojourner, or a fixed inhabitant. Nor did any one fail to be equally flattered and delighted by his attentions. When he took leave of Lex- ington, it was not Transylvania alone that seemed forsaken. He left behind him, in the society of the place, a vacancy that has not since been filled, and a sense of loneliness that has not been removed. And, notwithstanding the persecution he had encountered, and the wrongs he had sustained, to the honor of humanity, when unperverted by sinister passions, it is confi- dently believed, that there was not in the town an individual so hardened and estranged from a sentiment of benevolence, as not, in his moments of natural feeling, to wish him health, pros- perity, happiness, and fame-a meed of praise to his genius, and of homage to his worth, which no prejudices, or artificial APPENDIX. 240 APPENDIX. restraints could prevent the honesty of the heart from award- ing. That it may the more clearly appear, how little Kentucky has done for Transylvania, how little she was consequently en- titled to expect from her, and how unjust were her complaints and accusations against her, the following summary of what other States have done for similar institutions is presented to the reader. Fortunate would it be, if, by these, or any other means, the justice and pride of this Commonwealth could be awakened, her apprehensions for her declining influence and fading glories alarmed, and her attention directed to her vital interests, in the strenuous cultivation of science and letters, and their extensive propagation among her inhabitants. HARVARD UNIVERSITY. The donations, public and private, that have been made to this institution, since its establishment in 1636, may be safely stated at five hundred thousand dollars. Of this sum probably about one half has been received, at different times, in real estate, money, and other forms of property, from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts; the re- mainder from wealthy and public-spirited individuals. The annual expenditures in Harvard amount to about thirty thousand dollars. Of this sum seventeen thousand are derived from the property of the institution, and thirteen thousand from fees for tuition. YALE COLLEGE. To the literary department of this institution the donations from the State of Connecticut, since its establishment, in 1700, have amounted to near . . . . . . . 100,000 Those to the medical department to . . . 20,000 The annual income, from the present active funds of the literary department is . . . . . . . 2,320 31 241 APPENDIX. The exact amount of contributions from individuals I have not been able to ascertain. It perhaps equals that from the State. The following summary of the munificent benefactions of New York, to her colleges, academies, and other seats of learn- ing, was received from the office of the Department of State of that Commonwealth. It forms a part of the report of a com- mittee appointed by the Legislature to inquire into the subject. 'Your committee cannot close this report without adverting, for a moment, to the uniform and commendable liberality of the State, in endowing seminaries of learning, and in disseminating the blessings of education. It appears from a statement drawn up in 1820, that there then had been appropiiated of the public monies as follows;- 'To the literature fund, the revenue of which is annually distributed among academies . . . ' As special grants to academies ' As do. for literary purposes . ' To Columbia College . . . ' To Union College . . . . . ' To Hamilton College . . . . 201,489 . . . 396,800 . . . 28,715 . . . 113,275 . ... 418,500 . . . 106,800 ' Total for colleges and academies . . ' To the College of Physicians and Surgeons in the city of New York . . . . ' To do. Western District . . . . . 'Total for medical science . . ' To the New York Historical Society ' To charity and free schools in cities ' To common schools. ' Total . . . . . . . 1,265,579 . 68,100 . 15,000 . . .83,100 . . . 12,000 .... 25,000 . . 1,232,900 . 2,618,579 ' To which may be added the value of the escheated lands and unappropriated literature and school lots in the Military Tract.' 242 APPENDIX. PENNSYLVANIA. On her University, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania has bestow- ed, at different times, not less than . . . . 200,000 On Dickinson College, in Carlisle, near . . 100,000 VIRGINIA. On her University, in Charlottesville, Virginia has already bestowed near . . . . . . . . . . 400,000 and continues to bestow on it annually . . . 15,000 SOUTH CAROLINA. The grants of South Carolina to Columbia College, in the town of Columbia, have been highly liberal, having amounted, since its establishment, in various kinds of property, to 400,000 Her annual grant to the College now is about . . 14,000 For two or three years past she has granted annually, in ad- dition to this, 5,000, for the increase of the college library. NORTH CAROLINA AND GEORGIA. The exact amount of the grants made by these two States to their respective universities I have not been able to learn. I know them, however, to be very liberal. Of several other States in the Union the same is true. If, then, it is true, that while other States are liberal in their endowments of universities and colleges, Kentucky, instead of enriching Transylvania, in the same way, has fatally impover- ished her-that instead of conferring on her pecuniary benefac- tions from her own resources, she has withheld from her the benefactions conferred by Virginia-and that, instead of having a right to complain of the Trustees for their mismanagement and waste of the funds of the institution, the world is justified in complaining of her for destroying a large amount of those funds, and withholding a much larger; if these things are true, as they palpably are, why is she surprised, or irritated, or cen- 243 sorious, at the decline of the academical department of her university Under existing circumstances, the event is inevita- ble. It strictly conforms to a law of nature, that ends cannot be attained without suitable means, and was, therefore, in the issue of things, to be confidently expected-as confidently, as that the sun is to be obscured to us when the heavens are clouded, and vegetation to fade when he withdraws his influ- ence. The same laws, physical and moral, that govern elsewhere, govern in Kentucky; the same causes produce precisely the same effects; and the same wants are necessarily accompanied by the same disabilities. But in no other state or community on earth can a college or a university exist and be prosperous without endowments; in no other has an issue so unreasonable been expected. If such an instance anywhere obtain, let it be cited. But it can- not, because it never did or could obtain. Why, then, has a result so impracticable and Utopian been seriously looked for by the people of Kentucky and why have we heard from them complaints and censures, not to call them actual denunciations, because it has not been accomplished by magic Is it because they are uninformed on the subject or that those, in whom they have confided, have intentionally, or, from a want of knowledge, misinformed them That they are under a strange and deplorable misconception, let it arise from what source it may, can be no longer doubted, and would to God that, by some means, the deceptive influence could be removed from their minds, and the delusion dissipated! Nothing but this can save them from degradation, not to use a stronger term, and call it ruin. Might the writer of this note hope to be listened to again, with the same kind and courteous attention, which he formerly experienced, when he appeared before the Legislature of the State, on a kindred subject, he would venture once more re- 244 APPENDIX. spectfully and earnestly to address them. Nor would he speak either in the cant of sycophancy, which he abhors, or in the cautious and studied phrase of the practised courtier, from a fear of giving offence. He would employ the language and man- ner of a freeman, fearlessly remonstrating against what he be- lieves to be wrong; warning of consequences, in case of per- sistence, and faithfully suggesting the means of reformation. Thus feeling, and with these objects in view, he would reso- lutely represent to the people, no less than to the Legislature of the Commonwealth, that, the profession of medicine alone ex- cepted, in all things connected with science and letters, Ken- tucky is on the decline; that, both in the abstract, and com- paratively, her march is retrograde; that the intellectual lights, which, at an earlier period, emigration transferred to her from the States of the East, are fast going out; that most of them are dimmed with years, or already extinguished; that, in the present condition of things, no others are to be expected here- after from the same quarter, and that she neither has any arrangements, nor is making any, to supply their places, with luminaries reared up among her native sons. He would deliberately proclaim, in the fervor of his spirit, and the grief of his heart, that, to the destinies of Kentucky this condition of things is deeply portentous, and appalling to her friends; that it is replete with a voice of solemn premoni- tion and terrific warning, to neglect which is not only unwise, but criminal-faithless in its bearing on the highest and most invaluable interests of the State; and that it calls for the pat- ronage and promotion of letters and science, as the only offer- ing by which wisdom and virtue can expiate past and existing faults, and avert approaching and more formidable evils. He would ask, Whence it is that Kentucky was once so avow- edly not only the pride of the West, but the admiration and perhaps the envy of the East; and whence she derived the in- fluence she possessed, in the councils and public concerns of the nation The answer is plain-too plain to be mistaken APPENDIX . 245 even by the simplest. It was from the abundant amount of cultivated intellectual capital she was able to throw into the na- tional stock. But where, he would ask, is that capital now.-Diminished, wasting, dwindling into poverty, by the neglect and mismanage- ment of its unfaithful guardians. That those statesmen and public characters, who were once the pride and glory of Ken- tucky should fade and ' be gathered to their fathers,' is the mandate of Heaven. But it is no less so, that their descen- dants and survivors should make strenuous and unremitting en- deavours worthily and honorably to fill their places, and com- plete the work for the aggrandizement of their country and the benefit of man, which they left unfinished. And he would ask again, are such endeavours, for such purposes, honestly made and persevered in, by the Commonwealth -a question which must be replied to, in a mortifying negative. In equal truth and bitterness may it be asserted, that, as re- lates to letters in the State of Kentucky, ' the age of chivalry is gone by.' Their beauties and attractions are no longer ob- jects of enthusiastic admiration, few champions arm in knightly defence of them, and other favorites have engaged the affec- tions and devotion of the community. A fearful and revolting warfare of party, political and religious, occupies exclusively the public mind. Nor can anything that is peaceful in its na- ture, and catholic in its tendency, flourish in the midst of it. In- stead of aiming at the general good, the overthrow of its antago- nist, and the accomplishment of its own selfish purposes, con- stitute the exclusive end of each party. Nor is anything held sacred that stands in the way of temporary success. Pro- vided vengeance can be gratified by it, or an opponent defeat- ed, even the peaceful haunts of the Muses are invaded, their votaries and those who minister at their altars assailed and vio- lated, their temples rendered desolate, and their groves laid in ruins. And all this is perpetrated by the passions of the few, who deceive, abuse, and madden the many, and tyrannize over 246 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. them; by infuriated demagogues in party politics, and fanati- cal leaders in party religion. That such, in Kentucky, is the lamentable condition of things, will not be denied. The portraiture is neither extravagant in its outline, nor excessive in coloring. That it is substantially correct, calm observers will not fail to acknowledge, and the occurrences of the time satisfactorily prove. Does not, then, a patriotic and conscientious regard for the general welfare solemnly summon the Legislature and the peo- ple, to ponder well the existing state of things, and deliberately calculate its inevitable result.-to make a fair and reasonable estimate of what they are to gain by the objects they have em- braced, and what to lose by those they have abandoned Of such a calculation the elements that present themselves are sufficiently abundant. History is rich in them, and obser- vation supplies them from every quarter. The question to be settled by them may be thus succinctly stated ;-Which of the two is most useful to a community, science and letters, with all their concomitants, or a maddening party warfare in politics and religion, subversive of the interests of sound learning Nor is there greater difficulty in solving the question, than there is in propounding it. Consult observation and examine history, and it will satis- factorily appear, that, from the latter, no state or people has ever derived unqualified good. On the contrary, great mis- chief has been always its product. Although something may have been gained by it, in reference to certain kinds of knowledge, much more has been lost, on the score of feeling, and by the false and pernicious doctrines it has inculcated. It has maddened the passions, corrupted the morals, de- graded and brutalized the character of man, consigned to tor- ture and death the wise and the virtuous, and proved, in other respects, an inexhaustible source of human suffering. To real happiness it has never ministered. If, in any instance, such has appeared to be its issue, it has been through the instru- 247 mentality of other causes. Evil, moral or physical, constitutes necessarily its immediate effect. These truths are demon- strable, were it admissible to analyze them, and adduce the testimony on which they rest. Europe, during the dark ages, and France, in the time of her revolutionary frenzy, would sup- ply me abundantly with materials for my purpose. But of literature and science, how different are the effects! When sound and judiciously applied, exclusive benefactions are their only result. They enlighten, refine, and elevate individu- als, give power to communities, glory to nations, and happiness to the human race. They regulate the passions, purify the morals, ennoble the virtues, and thus erect the only basis on which true and rational piety can stand. The religion of the ignorant is, like themselves, gross, impulsive, mutable, and su- perstitious. Although it may act on their fears, and somewhat bridle their crude propensities, it neither purifies their nature, exalts their sentiments, nor serves as a source of virtuous action. Religion without knowledge is like a ship without a rudder, that changes her course at every shifting of the wind. The uninformed concur in religious belief and feeling, with the last pastor by whom they have been instructed. Hence sound knowledge is essential to genuine and stable religion. Look, through history, at the nations of antiquity, and inquire where greatness and power, morality, happiness, and true and unfading glory prevailed among them. You will find them alone under the fostering influence of science and letters, and their amount was in direct proportion to the efficient cultivation of the human intellect. Of the truth of this, ample and satis- factory testimony is presented to us, in the condition of ancient Egypt, Greece, Carthage, and Rome, contrasted with that of the surrounding nations. Ignorance, barbarity, and comparative weakness kept the latter in shade and servitude, while the former stood out in the pride and effulgence of civilization and conquest. APPENDIX. 248 APPENDIX. Nor do modern times fail to afford us abundant evidence of a similar tendency. They prove to us conclusively, that all that is most valuable in morals, religion, politics, and social felicity, follows in the train, as an inseparable concomitant, of science and letters. To be thoroughly convinced of this, compare the present state of Europe with that which she presented during the dark ages. She was then but little else than an appalling spectacle of moral corruption, misery, and crime. Nor, although per- petually engaged in warfare and blood, did she exhibit the strength and invincibility which she subsequently possessed. For cultivated intellect constitutes at once the source and sinew of national grandeur, prosperity, and power. France, with her present means, which are the product exclusively of intellectual cultivation, could have subjugated the whole of Europe, in the twelfth century, with much more facility than she could now conquer Prussia. And what but her transcendent intellectual capital renders England, at this day, the mistress of the ocean, the arbitress of nations, and the wonder of the world Reduce her suddenly to a state of barbarism, the sword and the trident will drop from her grasp, her greatness will vanish like the mist on her hills, and she will soon become a province of her pow- erful neighbour. Nor is evidence wanting, in our own country, to prove the ascendency, in wisdom and efficiency, which science and litera- ture confer on a state. What, during the war of the revolution, gave to Virginia, Massachusetts, and South Carolina, the pre- ponderating influence, in the affairs of the nation, which they so deservedly possessed Not superiority in numbers or patriot- ism, bravery, or wealth, but in cultivated intellect, and ripened talent. In proportion to their population, the New England States, especially Massachusetts and Connecticut, exercise, at present, in various ways, public and private, a much greater influence in the concerns of our country, than any of the other States of .32 249 the Union. And for this they are indebted to intellectual cul- tivation, the result of their munificent encouragement of learning. Within the last fifteen years, Virginia has lost much of her weight in the Union. Nor is this owing solely, although it is in part, to the increase of the population of some of the other States being more rapid than hers. It is because she is less ably and splendidly represented, than she formerly was, in the councils of the nation. And the source of this is her well known neglect of science and letters. In native intellect, her youth, and those of riper years, who are now engaged in public life, are as richly gifted as their fathers. But, in cultivation and learning, they are not a little inferior to them. A con- sciousness of this, the deep mortification he experienced on ac- count of it, and a noble resolution to remedy the evil, led Mr Jefferson to embark in the enterprise, the success of which has given him a claim to the lofty title of 'Father of the Uni- versity of Virginia'-a title, neither less honorable in itself, nor less momentous in its origin and issue, than that of 'Author of the Declaration of Independence.' If, under the latter title, he was instrumental in the establishment of our political independence, he contributed, under the former, to our independence of intellect. Should the destinies of the University be what its Father anticipated-and if a failure occur the fault will not be his-the State of Virginia owes it to herself and her young men, no less than to him, that he should stand in marble or bronze, in some of the academical edifices he erected for her. For services and benefactions, not com- parable, in value, to those which he has rendered, many indi- viduals have had statues of gold erected to their memory, and have even received the rites of canonization. His venerable figure thus constantly presented to the youth of his native State, while pursuing their studies, and preparing themselves for the functions of official life, could not fail to awaken their gratitude, strengthen their patriotism, and produce and confirm in them a resolution to excel; a condition of the youthful intellect, from which all that is great and glorious may be expected. APPENDIX. 250 APPENDIX. Such, then, are the advantages which Kentucky may confi- dently expect from faithfully cultivating the intellect of her youth, and such the degradation and the evils which as cer- tainly await her, should she persist in neglecting it. In one case, influence without and glory within; in the other, obscuri- ty at home, insignificance abroad, and scorn everywhere Or, if she chooses to run a middle course, encouraging letters on a puny scale, she may then retain the rank of mediocrity, which is scarcely less humiliating than the worst of the others. But if Kentucky has much to apprehend from the positive retrogradation of her citizens, as relates to intellectual improve- ment, she has no less from that which is only comparative. Of the other States of the West, the march, in reference to mental cultivation, is forward, and will thus continue, with increasing velocity. Their augmenting brightness, therefore, will bury her more deeply in shade. Each of them has, in lands to be appropriated to the purpose, an ample fund for the promotion of learning. And these lands, from the very misfortunes of Kentucky, they will learn to turn to a profitable account. Each will have, therefore, in time, a well endowed and well appointed college or university of its own, for the education of its own youth. Under these circum- stances, should Kentucky continue destitute of such an estab- lishment, the consequence is too obvious to be concealed from any one, or to require here to be elaborately set forth. She must either want learning entirely, and sink into a condition of comparative barbarism, or pay for it a price which will impov- erish and further weaken her, and enrich and strengthen her neighbours. Thus will she, the elder sister, and once by far the most splendid and promising member of the great political fam- ily of the West, sink into the condition of a handmaid to the younger; or, at least, of a humble dependant on them, for that which they should be receiving from her. If the pride of Kentucky can submit to this, then is she lost to glory and aban- doned by hope. Her independence has given place to craven 251 servility, and the spirit of chivalry has left her forever. Her sainted sires, who fondly planted her in the wilderness, braved all hardships and dangers in nurturing her, and gallantly shed their blood in her defence, will turn, with burning blushes, min- gled with a frown of deep indignation, from their degenerate daughter, and leave her to her fate. Will any one, in answer to the preceding statement, observe, that Transylvania once had funds, which were wasted by the mismanagement of those who had the charge of them; and that she, therefore, has no right to expect any more The re- ply is, that those funds, whether wasted or not, were not deriv- ed from the State of Kentucky; but that, on the contrary, a large portion of them were destroyed by her. It will not be denied that the pittance which she gave was faithfully applied to the object for which it was intended-the extinguishment of debt. But if she has just ground of complaint, as respects the for- mer management of the funds of Transylvania, her remedy is equally obvious and simple. The whole matter is under her own control. Let her make the institution a suitable endow- ment, in remuneration of the lands she withheld, and the bank stocks whose value she so ruinously lessened, and appoint to the superintendence of it, agents whom she knows to be faith- ful and competent. By proceeding thus, she will do justice to the University, honor to herself, and good incalculable to the people of the West. Such an act would contribute more to her interest and renown, than any she has performed since her existence as a State. It would entitle her to the exalted privileges of her birthright, and secure to her the preeminence of name and standing, which she once enjoyed among her sisters of the West; both of which she is rapidly forfeiting by her neglect of learning. Because she failed in one ill-arranged and ill-provided at- tempt at the permament establishment of a university, will she not make another, with ampler means, and under more skilful APPENDIX. 252 APPENDIX. management Will she forever abandon the object in despair Such conduct would be indicative of a degree of pusillanimity, and a want of wisdom and perseverance, which are equally de- structive of the prosperity and standing of individuals and states. Let her, it is repeated, endow the University-compe- tently and permanently endow it, and appoint skilful directors and able officers to administer its concerns, intellectual and pe- cuniary, and the issue will be glorious to Western America. Let her pursue an opposite course, and imbecility and mortifi- cation will be her certain reward. While her sister States around her, it is reiterated, shall be proudly blazing in light and splendour, and exulting in their strength, she, to increase their brilliancy by contrast, will appear in the background of the picture, obscured, deeply obscured, by the humiliating shades of her own inferiority. Complaints have been made, that the expenses of an educa- tion in Transylvania are so heavy, that none but the sons of the wealthy can sustain them. With a design to injure her, there- fore, she has been maliciously denominated the ' institution of the rich ! ' This view of the subject is characterized by anything but reason and candor. In all places on earth, it is chiefly the sons of the wealthy, at least of those in easy circumstances, that receive the advantages of a liberal education. And, from causes which it would be superfluous to recite, it is in the na- ture of things that it must be so. Superior wealth, which, in this country at least, is, for the most part, either directly or indirectly, the reward of superior industry, intellect, or both, will be made to purchase special privileges and advantages, is intended to do so, and ought to do it. If those who are called the poor are ambitious of all the enjoyments of the rich, they must first secure, by energy and industry, the means to purchase them. They will then have an honest and an honorable title to them-not sooner. By the laws of nature, as well as those of every well regulated civil community, the rich as well as 253 the poor have a fair claim, not only to the immediate products of their own labor, intellectual and corporeal, but to all they possess by hereditary descent. With as much justice may it be demanded of an individual to surrender up his possessions, without a compensation, to one who is richer than himself, as to one who is poorer-to a luxurious king or lord, as to an in- dolent pauper. In fact, the tirade that is, in these times of portentous levelling and obstreperous misrule, so insidiously poured out in behalf of the poor against the wealthy, and the refusal to patronise colleges and universities, because the for- mer cannot be educated in them, are but the cant and trick of artful demagogues, who are anxious to conciliate public favor, by an expression of sentiments which they do not feel, and which they would be the last to exemplify by acts of mnag- nanimity or practical benevolence. These complainings are pushed, in some instances, so far, as to pronounce the superior education bestowed on the wealthy, a measure that ought to be frowned on and discouraged, as being calculated to create, in our country, a dangerous aris- tocracy. Even the Academy at West Point, the foster-child of Washington and his illustrious successors, the hope and pride of the nation, and one of the most excellent seats of instruction the world contains, is to be subverted, its halls of science left in loneliness, and its bowers of the Muses to become the dwell- ings of owls, to gratify the fearful spirit of levelling, which is abroad in our country. This Vandalic antipathy to learning is one of the most revolting features of the times; and, should it spread extensively, will become the most formidable. It is but a modification of that ferocious Jacobinical spirit, which deluged France in blood, appalled her with horror, and covered her in mourning. If, in the fifth and sixth centuries, its product was the dark ages, its tendency, in the nineteenth, is precisely the same. Nor can anything but the peculiar condition of the world prevent it from leading to a similar issue. Those, there- fore, who foster it, are the worst enemies of the human race. 254 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. For the many to be learned is impossible. The privilege be- longs, of necessity, to the few. And those few must possess the means to purchase it. For education is as much an arti- cle of purchase as a tract of land. Nor is it less preposterous to complain, because the poor cannot be versed in science and letters, than because they cannot be proprietors of the soil. But if those in straitened, in common with those in easy cir- cumstances, must be educated in colleges and universities, there is but one way in which the object can possibly be attain- ed. Endow the institutions so liberally, that their officers can be maintained without any fees, or with very light ones, from the pupils who attend them. Their halls and class rooms will then be open to all the youth of the country, who have means to meet the expenses of subsistence, and a few other moderate demands which necessarily pertain to a college life. It is not true that the fees of tuition, in Transylvania, have been exorbitant. They were more moderate than in any other institution, of the same rank, in the United States. But they were certainly higher than they need have been, had the Uni- versity been endowed. Nor could the case be otherwise. They were in lieu of endowment, and furnished subsistence to the President and officers. Had they been more moderate than they were, that subsistence could not have been derived from them. Is it, then, the wish of the people of Kentucky, to foster learning and science, and yet suppress what is denominated their aristocracy The only mode to effect it is to endow Transylvania. Refuse to do this, and the sons of the wealthy will receive an education, in distant places, while those of the poor will be necessarily unlettered-a condition of things con- stituting, in perfection, the aristocracy denounced. Should any one be inclined to pronounce some of the pre- ceding remarks irrelevant to the object of this note, the writer of it thinks otherwise. The life of a literary man consists in his thoughts. And the foregoing were the thoughts and opin- 255 ions of Dr Holley. When living he did not conceal them; nor would he fail to express them, were he living still. Although Kentucky treated him, not only with a want of kindness and courtesy, but with ingratitude and injustice, in listening to false accusations against him, and in refusing to sus- tain him in his important labors, he never ceased to be sincere- ly attached to her. He carried his friendship for her to his watery grave. And were he now to address her from the deep, where he reposes, he would not reproach her with the wrongs he had suffered. He was too manly to complain; but he would remonstrate with her, in arguments so convincing, ex- pressions so cogent, and a manner so irresistible, that, though when living he failed, his voice from the billows, bearing with it the depth and potency of the mighty waters, would prevail over error, disenthral the mind from prejudice and passion, and accomplish the end for which he so zealously labored, the triumph of learning in Western America. He would, in a particular manner, warn the people and the Legislature of the State where he sojourned, against popular dissensions, distracted counsels, and the dangers of political and religious frenzy. He would implore them, in the name of pat- riotism, learning, and sound morals, and even of genuine religion itself, of all that is most precious to them here and hereafter, their present comforts, their prospects in time, and their hopes of eternity, to bury their hostilities and live in peace. He would entreat them to unite, cordially, strenuously, and indis- solubly unite, in support of the institution where he once pre- sided, and on which his memory loved to dwell, as the sheet- anchor of science and letters among them, and their only se- curity against individual abasement, and State degradation. 256 APPENDIX. 257 NOTE F. While he held that, by the influence of education,' 4rc. p. 50. THE following article, ' On Education in the Western States,' written by Dr Holley, and published in the Western Review, in 1819, will communicate to the reader, in his own words, some of his views on that subject. ' Some remarks on the education of this portion of our coun- try are required by our common interest. There are some considerable errors which need to be corrected, and many in- adequate notions which ought to be enlarged. Parents have a great desire to give, and children to receive, the advantages of learning and science, and the impulses upon this subject are as good here as in any part of the United States; but the means, so far as books, apparatus, teachers, and institutions are con- cerned, are much less than they are in some other places. All the privations which we have suffered, and which we are still suffering, in regard to our education, are indeed rapidly dimin- ishing, and giving place to increasing facilities and advantages. Our population has multiplied, and our property accumulated, to such a degree, that we not only have an ample field for our own talents, but for those of the most promising and enterpris- ing young men from the Atlantic States. We are ceasing to feel like colonists who have left the mother country and the de- lights of home, and who always look back for the inventions and improvements which society is expected to introduce. We are thinking for ourselves, and beginning to adapt our policy to our condition, which we understand much better than we have 33 done heretofore. Our strength and resources are rapidly de- veloping their extent and variety under new and interesting aspects. Instead of deceiving our hopes with calculations of commercial advantages, so unsuited to our interior world, we appear to have opened our eyes, almost at the same moment, and in distant sections of the West, without any other aid than a common interest, upon the importance of manufactures, and the evils which we have incurred by neglecting them. It is the general sentiment, forced upon us by the observation of every man, that too much of our population has been mercan- tile; that too many foreign goods have been brought into the country; that a paper currency is an evil chiefly because it has promoted this system of action; that we ought to have worked our own raw materials into articles for general use; and that we ought not to have attempted, in the beginning of our manu- facturing career, such great and expensive establishments as are fitted only to an old state of society, where the modes of labor are settled, and sudden changes cannot defeat the calcu- lations of judgment. The establishments should have been small at first, and the capital employed should have been given principally to the end and not to the means. The transition might then have been gradual from the use of foreign goods to the use of our own. It must now be much more rapid. ' Something must occur in regard to education similar to that which has occurred in regard to manufactures. We must see our wants, before we can judiciously and effectually supply them. Some of these wants we will point out. ' Our ideas of an education are inadequate as they regard the student, the amount of learning and science expected, the number of books required at a seminary, the extent of appara- tus, the variety of professors, and the time necessary to com- plete an academic course. This remark is true in every part of the union, but it is particularly true in this part. Boys are to be put early to study. It is imposssible to wait for them to have judgment enough to determine upon the best mode of 258 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. education for themselves, without sacrificing a very valuable portion of life, a portion which cannot be spared with impunity. Parents are, from the nature of the case, the agents of their children as it regards this important purpose, and must decide for them what use they shall make of a considerable number of their first years. To refuse to do this is an act of treachery toward our offspring which ought not lightly to be forgiven. The best time for the study of language is, without any doubt, in childhood. The memory is then active, and the other facul- ties are too immature for the services which they will be called upon to render in after life. When the mind has been accus- tomed to the pleasure and glory of invention, of analysis, of original and independent thinking, of the full use of its various powers, it cannot consent to go back and thumb a lexicon for the daily drill of a school book in a dead language. We must learn vocabularies when we are young. The philosophy of language we may pursue afterwards. This is deep and inter- esting enough to satisfy the strongest minds. Every young man, who attends to the sciences first, and then undertakes to learn the languages, will repent of his course. The testimony of all well educated communities agrees in this fact. It is sup- ported by the order, in which our faculties are unfolded, and our pleasures increased. It ought not to be required that we should speak with hesitation on this point. The experience of ages is sufficient to justify the tone of decision. We must have tools before we can work. We must employ our senses before our minds can be stored with ideas. We must have words be- fore we can talk or write. We must have the same words with others before we can give them our thoughts or receive theirs. We must understand the languages, in which books of literature and science are printed, before we are furnished with a key to knowledge, even after we have entered a library, and the lore of ages is spread around us. ' It is however a great mistake to suppose, that the chief value of an acquaintance with other languages than our own, lies in 259 the ability to read foreign books. English is made up of more dialects than any other tongue in the world, and no man can be master of it without knowing several of them. We can indeed obtain a sufficient acquaintance with our language to be very respectable and useful citizens, to be good practical thinkers, and even to be eloquent speakers; but not to be critics, not to be teachers, not to have a fine tact in the choice of words, not to be aware of corruptions and of the best mode of prevention or removal, not to furnish the aids of grammars and dictionaries to the inquiries of others, and not to be in short accomplished scholars. It is not true that all the valuable works, which we ought to have, are translated into English; but if it were, this would not excuse us for neglecting the study of languages, when we have the opportunity to learn them, and mean to be consid- ered as literary men. Etymology carries us immediately and constantly out of our own tongue, and no mnere English student can pursue this branch of inquiry. A critical taste in compo- sition cannot be formed without an acquaintance with Greek and Latin. These must be studied in order to support our claims to the character of philologists. Home Tooke has demonstrated that Saxon, and still other dialects, are indispen- sable to a thorough investigation even of our particles. Twenty distinct sources for the present English vocabulary are enu- merated by some writers. The question of purity with us is a totally distinct one from what it was with the Greeks and Ro- mans. The former allowed no words to be pure but those of Greek origin. The latter allowed Greek to be added to their own, but excluded all others. We must admit all the languages of Europe, and even some of the languages of the aborigines of our own country, to assist in determining what shall constitute purity in English. Were it possible for a man to be once well acquainted with the dialects, which are the sources of our lan- guage, and afterwards be unable to translate a single passage from any one of them, he would still have a power and a taste in the use of words in his vernacular tongue, which he never 260 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. could have obtained in any other way. He, who has made himself acquainted with the dead languages, can always tell, from the style of another, whether he also has studied them or not. ' But we pursue this inquiry no further. All the colleges and universities in our country demand a knowledge of Greek and Latin as an indispensable condition of the bestowment of a de- gree. This alone is reason sufficient to secure for them public respect, and ought to have its proper influence upon public opinion. We have no disposition to contend that our scholars ought at present to become manufacturers of grammars and lexicons for any language but our own. These we can get from Europe, and can translate them from German or Latin when we do not find them in English. We ought however to be capable of making grammars and lexicons hereafter, if oc- casion should require them at our hands. Until this occasion happens, we ought not to make it an objection to American literature that we have not a race of scholars devoted to these refinements of criticism. The time will come when we shall write and adopt our own books in our public institutions, and free ourselves from this species of dependence upon Great Britain. The insults, which foreigners are continually heaping upon us, will contribute toward this end. Even our own citi- zens, when they are abroad, sometimes slander us, and grossly carricature our literary taste and condition. Blackwood's Magazine, printed at Edinburgh, has done its part in this work of misrepresentation. But it ought to be our business to glean instruction from the slanders of our enemies, and to make false- hood itself tributary to our improvement. Our enemies often fasten upon the real defects of our state of society, and of our literature, although they magnify and color them according to their caprices, and hardly preserve likeness enough for stran- gers to form any just idea of the original. Considering the objects, which our country has been obliged heretofore to pursue, our learning has been adapted to our con- 261 dition and wants. We have now arrived at a period, when our literature ought to be far better, and the causes are already in operation which will make it so. The activity and powers of the American mind are equal to those of any other, as is proved by its success in everything to which it has devoted itself. But notwithstanding our capacity for any measure and variety of improvement, we are, as scholars, inferior to those of Europe, who are our inferiors in vigor of mind. We must raise our standard of literature, and introduce the necessary books into the libraries of our colleges and universities, and we shall then show that we are as able to understand them with critical accu- racy as any people in the world. The number of inventions in our country, and the rapid progress which useful science is making among us, are sure indications and a satisfactory pledge of our future success in an equal degree to any of our rivals. ' There are, however, many erroneous impressions and habits to be removed, especially in this region, before we shall study to the best advantage. Our young men are all in a most unfor- tunate hurry to finish what they call their education, and to get into active life. This spirit of haste is almost universal, both with the parents and the children, and produces some of the worst effects. A scrap-education, snatched from a few months of study under all the disadvantages of a want of preparation in the first place, and of method and means in the second, must forever subject a man to embarrassments of the most painful kind when he contends with the regularly and thoroughly in- structed. The period, at which boys want to enter the univer- sity, is altogether too early. They should be kept much long- er at the study of languages in preparatory schools, and then they will be qualified to attend to the sciences with advantage, and without distraction. There is a vast deal of false shame among the young men, when they are found in college at the age of eighteen, nineteen, or twenty. They all want to be graduated at a time when they ought to enter the university. Sixteen is a good age for admission; seventeen is better; eight- APPENDIX. 262 APPENDIX. een is very well; nineteen is liable to no considerable objections; and twenty ought not to be viewed as an insuperable obstacle. The age of twentyfive is early enough for any young man to enter a profession. The Letters of an English barrister to a Stu- dent in Law advise him to continue his studies to the age of thirty, and then to commence practice in his profession. The bad consequences of admitting very young men to the active duties and responsibility of either law, physic, or divinity, are numerous and important. Theii education generally ceases at this period, and they form an unfortunate style and a perverse taste, while they are left the victims of an imperfect, miscella- neous, and vacillating course of thinking and acting. The want of a familiar knowledge of general principles and of ele- mentary systems, especially in political economy, is felt, to an alarming extent, in the deliberations and results of our State Legislatures. Expedients are perpetually adopted, and all fail in succession, while no general policy is tried upon the settled maxims of a safe government. A better early education would aid powerfully in remedying this evil. ' Our young men are not only prepared very imperfectly for the university, but they come from all sorts of teachers, and bring with them every variety of pronunciation and of literary faults. They form, when collected, a motley group. Most of them, at least very many, begin the course erroneously, and learn that at the close which they ought to learn first. Latin, Greek, and the living languages, should always be first taken up, and belles lettres and. the sciences afterwards. A sufficient acquaintance with English to read it fluently, and with perfect ease, is of course an indispensable prerequisite. But the study of philosophical English grammar is to come after the languages have generally been obtained. We have some teachers of eminence in this portion of the country, men ac- complished in the languages, and who do themselves and their pupils honor. But too many of our teachers advise parents and boys not to learn Greek, and thus subject them to great dis- advantages afterward, when they are obliged to go back in their course and bring up what they had so injudiciously neglected. No teacher is to be allowed to be a guide, in this respect, for those who are to receive degrees in our colleges, if he dissuades his pupils from the study of Greek. Even an A. B. is not con- ferred in any institution in the United States, as far as we know, without a knowledge, or a pretended knowledge, of this lan- guage. We are not going into an argument to show the im- portance of Greek to the scholar, the critic, the etymologist, the orator, the man of taste, or the man of science. It is enough that all our institutions unite in requiring it of every student. ' The great body of our people must be business men. It is right that they should be so. But we also want some scholars and men of science, not only for the ornament, but for the use and the practical improvement of the community. Very many of our young men are given up to an idle and injurious life, who ought to be benefiting society by their learning or their scien- tific attainments. This is an age when science is showing its uses in the ordinary relations of mankind. Manufactories, la- bor-saving machines, economical improvements in fireplaces and stoves, the application of chemistry to agriculture and the arts, the facilities of travelling, and indeed all the departments of society, whether ornamental or useful, are displaying the triumphs of science and demonstrating the progressive meliora- tion of the condition and character of the human family. In new states, towns and institutions are too apt to be jealous of each other, and, for want of union and cooperation, to defeat the useful ends which all propose. This evil will decrease as towns acquire a more established character, and their respec- tive advantages become proportioned, understood, and freely allowed by each other. Elementary schools and academies ought to be distributed through the State; but public patronage and the population are not sufficient to support more than one university, even if they be sufficient, and at the same time will- ing, to do that. The means of a good education at any one 264 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. place are very expensive and require a large capital, when build- ings, books, apparatus, and professors are taken into the ac- count. The great libraries of Europe make us ashamed of the best in the United States. That of the Vatican consists of five hundred thousand volumes; others have three hundred thou- sand, and two hundred thousand volumes. The largest library among us amounts to about thirty thousand, and those of our colleges run from six thousand through three thousand down to one thousand. Our ideas of the extent of a library must be very much enlarged before we shall be able to collect the lite- rary apparatus absolutely necessary to a finished scholar. ' We want, in our education, accuracy and depth; fewer de- claimers and more thinkers; fewer volunteers for six months, or a year, and more regular troops devoted to the service for life. In our practical establishments of every kind, we ought to have some educated men, some acquainted with scientific theories, to be associated with the men of labor and application in the details of execution. Speculation and experiment should go together. Theory and practice should be wedded forever, and each contribute to the perfection of the other. Our system of education should begin with the mother in her nursery, and so from the family to the district school, then to the high school or academy, to the college or university, where graduates should be resident for several years before they desert it for practice in a profession. In this way we should elevate the bar, the medical faculty, and the pulpit. We ought not how- ever to continue the idea any longer, that those only are to be educated, who are destined for the learned professions. Our planters, farmers, merchants, and the higher orders of mechan- ics, ought to number in their catalogues many men of letters, and particularly of science. The population of a free country like this should be extensively educated in all its departments, if we mean to secure the blessings of liberty, civil or religious.' 34 265 266 NOTE G. Page 95. IF it be asked, ' Why did Dr-Holley resign the Presidency of Transylvania University' it may be said in reply, there was not perhaps, at that particular moment, any new or peculiar reason for the resignation. The last drop which causes the cup to overflow has not more weight, bulk, or density, than the thousand that had preceded it. He had long since arrived at the conviction, that while the State refused encouragement and pro- tection, and its enemies forbearance and magnanimity, two points became equally hopeless; the University, if, by immense indi- vidual exertion, it could maintain its standing, could not move onward to the proud distinction his ambition had marked out for it; without adequate funds, depending for daily subsistence upon the income from students, an income always fluctuating, and graduated by the other resources of an institution as fur- nishing inducements for pupils to attend, nothing permanent could be effected. He was willing to spend, and he spent freely, while hope remained; but to labor hard and labor in vain, and be reviled for it too, he could no longer brook. In behalf of the University he begged and entreated, urged and recom- mended, in person and by agents, exhibited its present state, its prospects and wants, invited examination and inquiry, all to no purpose. The last effort of this sort, was a visit to Frankfort, in the autumn of 1825, in order, if possible, to make an impression upon the Legislature, then in session. The case was consid- APPENDIX. ered desperate, and no attempt was made. It was after the publication of the Message of Governor Desha, in which he in- sidiously denounced the President of Transylvania, expressed much interest, on the part of the Executive, in the University, great friendship for its prosperity, spoke in extravagant terms of legislative munificence, but added, that it had entirely failed to meet public expectation. To a distinguished gentleman of the Senate, to whom Dr Holley communicated his determina- tion to resign, and who endeavoured to persuade him to disre- gard this denunciation of the Governor, and to consider it no more than the manifestation of a vindictive spirit, which was willing, in order to promote its own ends, to blast the fair pros- pects of literature and science in the State, Dr Holley thus expressed himself;-That he had sacrificed bright prospects, torn himself from very dear friends, and spent a considerable portion of his life, to rear for the State an institution worthy of her; that he had succeeded greatly beyond his means; had withstood sectarian and individual persecution, but that he could not, and would not bear that of the Executive; that whatever he thought of the man, the people had made him Governor, and if their Governor chose to destroy their only hope of a literary institution, the fault was not his; that he should leave Kentucky with sincere sorrow, and with it many friends; and he hoped the Trustees might select some more fortunate indi- vidual to supply his place. He was induced, however, by the Trustees, and by his attachment to the University, whose affairs might be still further depressed by a sudden change in the ad- ministration of them, to retain the Presidency one year longer. But the blow was given, his purpose of resigning had gone abroad. The funds already in possession were chiefly nominal, the property being unproductive, as were those boasted of as the beneficent appropriation of the Legislature. For these, what was withdrawn by their previous acts, was more than an equivalent. It was a continual struggle for which there were no relief laws. Dr Holley, though little liable to feelings of discourage- ment, could not but see that he was contending against fearful odds, and was himself, as well as the darling of his hopes and ambition, becoming impoverished. He had made immense sacrifices for his adopted State; had merged in its interests every personal consideration, while its native sons, the proprie- tors of the soil, at least a proportion of them, not only would not aid in building up the University, but labored with a zeal worthy of a better cause, to pull it down. He had devoted to it nine of his best years; applied to it all the energy of his un- tiring mind; had resisted the suggestions of his less sanguine friends; borne all that could be borne from enemies, until no experiment was ever more fairly made. He felt that he de- served better things. The spirit of the contract was broken, and he resolved to cultivate his hopes, and seek the rewards of a generous and elevated ambition, under more genial influences, and with more cheering prospects. He never would allow that the ill founded attacks on his name and management of the University, had any power over his determination. Undoubtedly they had an influence, as whatever comes into every day's experience, operating through the affections, must have, however in the pride of integrity and self-dependence we strive to conceal it from ourselves and from others. Hence he manifested something of that impatience we all discover on finding our best endeavours undervalued and de- famed, and ourselves deceived. Disdaining all intrigue him- self, he felt insulted at the suggestion that he regarded such little artifice in others, and could the University have risen above it, could it have triumphed over insult and injury as he did, above all, could it have lived without pecuniary means, it might still have been the boast of its own State, as it had been the admiration of others. Had the views been supported and followed out, which were offered and dwelt upon, to induce his acceptance of the office, and the relinquishment of a situation unrivalled in point of agree- 268 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. ableness, but not in his view furnishing so wide a field for usefulness, so great and dazzling a goal for his ambition-a situation, as it proved, of greater emolument, and not liable to losses from a fluctuating state of things-he might still have been moving on in his laborious career, with undiminished glory. Having, after much deliberation and many painful struggles, come to the resolution of leaving to other experimenters the task of cultivating the mental soil of Kentucky, he matured a plan, on which he had often thought, that would combine useful ex- ertion with agreeable recreation, before again engaging in any arduous and permanent enterprise. This was desirable for one who was so unwearied in attention to the duties of his office, and who had been harassed by innumerable and perplexing difficulties and embarrassments. He had previously undertaken the charge of a number of small boys, sons of highly respectable and wealthy planters of Louisiana, who resided in his family, and from whom, for a year or two, he had derived the greater part of his income. He suggested to these parents the following plan, which he entitled, ' A Plan of Education for the few who can afford it.' This plan, conducted by himself, he justly considered as in no small degree recommended to patronage by his mature age and standing in life, the constant intercourse of the pupils with his family, and by his previous pursuits and long employment as a successful teacher and lecturer. He considered the systems of education which he had wit- nessed in the United States, as defective in the following par- ticulars. ' 1. Their want of interest sufficient to engage intensely the attention of the pupil. 2. Their want of the requisite super- intendence of the morals and manners by the instructers. 3. The excess of the pupils, in number, beyond the ability of their teachers to instruct. 4. The too great distances between APPENDIX. the teacher and the pupil, preventing the proper influence of the former over the latter as his instructer and friend. During the period of education it is best that government be parental, embracing influence and authority through the kindest sympa- thies of our nature. 5. The want of situations and circum- stances to call out the observations of the pupil, that they may be directed, and his errors and prejudices, that they may be met and removed. 6. The inherent difficulties and incon- veniences attending an education conducted throughout on the same spot. Such an education cannot fail to contract and nar- row the mind, and unfit it for enlarged and catholic views. 7. The errors and prejudices imbibed, under the usual plans of education, in relation to manners, morals, religion, politics, and countries. 8. The want of opportunities to attain by conversa- tion, practical acquaintance with living languages. 9. The too high estimate set on the dead languages, and the, unneces- sary portion of time consumed in teaching and learning them, to the neglect of more important branches of knowledge. 10. The want of opportunities to acquire practical knowledge of human nature, and thereby more effectually to liberalize the mind. 11. The misconceptions formed in relation, not only to religious sects, but to people and nations, differing from our- selves; such as Jews, Mahometans, and Pagans. 12. The too high estimate placed on all localities about us, whether good or bad. 13. The extravagance that marks feelings of nationality and sentiments of republicanism. This extravagance to be properly tempered and moderated by a practical acquaintance with other nations and forms of government.' As a substitute for these evils he proposed;- ' 1. That the number of pupils be so regulated as not to ex- ceed the power of the instructers to superintend them. 2. In- structers and pupils to constitute a family, embracing all the ties, associations, and sympathies of that union of intimate and 270 APPENDIX. friendly relations. This arrangement would give rise to a com- munity in study, travelling, observing, and in such interesting adventures as might occur; all of which might be turned to the advantage of the pupil. 3. Course of study in the languages necessary in a complete education; viz. English, French, Spanish, Italian, Greek, and Latin. Course in history, mathe- matics, geography, the fine arts, the useful arts, and in accom- plishments generally. 4. Residence in different cities and towns, and learning all things relating to them on the spot. 5. The proper apportioning and blending of exercise, amuse- ment, study, attention to health, society, drawing, observation, and all other requisite modes and sources of improvement. 6. Paris to be the chief place of residence, where all sorts of instruction can be most readily obtained, and where the best teachers can be procured on the easiest terms. 7. Excursions, for the improvement of the more advanced youths, to be made to London, Edinburgh, Dublin, Rome, and such other places of science, literature, taste, and the arts, as experience and judgment might indicate.' This sketch, as left by himself, is very imperfect, but may serve to give a better idea of what he attempted to carry into operation, than the words of another could do. The whole system, for its completion, was to include from six to eight years. The plan, if feasible, seemed delightful. His family, especially his only son, would share largely in its benefits, while his own taste, curiosity, activity, and love of travelling would be gratified. He would be acquiring know- ledge on all subjects, and in particular on those relating to literary institutions, and the science of education. The liberal parents of those children, some of whom had themselves, as well as others of their sons, been educated abroad, adopted the scheme without hesitation, pleased with an opportunity of giving to these branches of their house so com- plete, though so novel, a mode of instruction. 271 To carry into execution this plan, Dr. Holley left Kentucky, not without feelings of regret and sorrow; not without that an- guish of soul which results from the severing of the most en- dearing ties, the breaking up of habits of daily intercourse, cemented by the friendship and kindness of years; but he was blessed with that bright sunshine of the soul, an approving con- science. No person ever possessed a conscience more pure than was his, in regard to Kentucky. Every duty, expressed or implied, had been performed; every obligation, whether of mercy or sacrifice, discharged; every debt, pecuniary or of gratitude, faithfully liquidated-those only of envy and ill will were left uncancelled. With the Great Auditor of all human accounts, let them forever remain! His valedictory to the students and the citizens who throng- ed to hear it, was affecting in the extreme. It consisted of an outline of his course since he had resided in Lexington, given with animation, dignity, and feeling. It was an extemporane- ous address, and though it occupied nearly two hours, all that remains of it will occupy a very small space, and may not be uninteresting, as giving the comprehensive view he took of the subject and of himself, and as showing the power of his mind in that kind of effort. '1. Introductory remarks. '2. My Report to Trustees. '3. The time I have been here. '4. The effects produced. '5. The University has been felt, because opposed. '6. The spirit diffused. '7. The alumni numerous. '8. The kind of character which I have labored to form. ' 1. Clear bold thinking, with good affections. '2. The importance of our dispositions and social virtues. '3. Our moral sentiments. '4. Females. 272 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. '5. Politics. '6. Religion. '7. Nature. '8. What happiness is. '9. What is immortality. '10. How we are to consider retribution; the two worlds made for each other; the value of existence. ' 11. We must now part; my future course; my return. 'Trustees, Professors, friends, families, farewell!' He left Lexington on the twentyseventh of March 1827, ac- companied for a considerable distance by a procession of pupils, citizens, and friends, testifying by every expression of affection- ate sorrow, their sincere attachment to his person and charac- ter. Had they known it was to be his only funeral procession, they could not have shown more sympathy and respect. Having at length bid adieu to the State, to the ties of office, the attachments of a nine years' residence, the friendships of a numerous circle, the stronger claims of natural affection in an only and beloved daughter, now married and established in Kentucky-all broken, the parting scene over, the tears wip- ed away, the agitation of spirits occasioned by so trying a cri- sis having, after some days, subsided into the calm of repose- like one relieved from an oppressive burden, he seemed to have entered upon a new existence. His spirits rose with the elasticity of youth. And while gliding down the beautiful Ohio, and borne along the rapid current of the majestic Mississippi, his mind and his heart expanding at every remove, he felt like a prisoner escaped from his fetters, enjoying the freedom of na- ture. The scenery was new, the Father of Rivers, was a sub- lime spectacle. Moving triumphantly over the congregated floods, and carried swiftly through several varieties of climate, whose new and' peculiar productions aroused the curiosity and the fancy, while the conversation of intelligent and accomplish- ed companions, elucidated their character and history-verdure 35 273 APPENDIX. and flowers soon bursting upon the view, and ravishing the sen- ses, his mind was excited, his native buoyancy of spirit return- ed, the poetry of life revived. With these lively, free, and elastic feelings, after passing a few days with friends upon the Coast above the city, he enter- ed New Orleans. Here it was his intention to enlarge his plan by forming a class of older youths for the proposed European excursion. As soon as he arrived, however, and before he had time to make any arrangement for that purpose, he was waited upon by some of the most influential gentlemen of the place, for another purpose. They suggested the idea of forming a literary institution in the neighbourhood of the city. The argu- ments offered as inducements, were very plausible, and the plan proposed extremely liberal. The College of New Orleans was entirely prostrated, and there was no establishment for education. Many persons could not afford to send their sons abroad, who might be able to educate them, if the means of education were provided at home. Those who went abroad for this purpose were often disqualified, bytheir habits and the influence of climate, for a residence in Louisiana. After an absence of the many years necessary for a collegiate course with the preparatory studies, they were strangers in the place of their birth, and like strangers liable to disease. A generous subscription could be obtained immediately, and hundreds of youths were ready to avail them- 'selves of the advantages of a home institution, the moment it should be established. It would be the foundation of a great university, free and independent of the trammels of legislation, or the dilatory measures of numerous trustees, who, with con- cert of opinion, are ever liable to be cramped by the want of means and power; and who, with divided attention, and the want of comprehensive views, cannot be supposed to understand fully all the exigencies of a great institution, or to be so well qualified to manage them as an individual who has made the subject his study, and who can give to it his whole time and atten- tion. Such was the outline, as expressed in the following extract from a letter to the author, from one of those gentlemen. 274 APPENDIX. ' We had heard, long before the receipt of your letter, of the melancholy scenes of the Louisiana. The loss which you de- plore is that which afflicted us the most. In the death of Dr Holley, Louisiana has lost him on whom she had cast her eyes for the education of her youth. ' It was at the solicitation of many of our most respectable citizens, that Dr Holley was persuaded to abandon his project- ed tour to Europe. In order to induce him to acquiesce in their wishes, two very advantageous proposals were made to him. The first was to buy for him, by means of a subscription, a tract of land in the vicinity of the city, and to erect on it the necessary buildings for the reception of students. To enable Dr Holley to refund to the subscribers the money thus advanced, all the profits of the institution were to be abandoned to him. The subscribers once paid, Dr Holley was to become sole pro- prietor of the land and buildings. The second proposal was, that the subscribers should retain the property and abandon to Dr Holley, as long as he continued in it, all the profits that should arise from said institution. This last proposal is the one which pleased Dr Holley the most and it was accepted by both parties. 'In these two proposals, Dr Holley, was to have had the ex- clusive management of the institution. Our confidence in him was unlimited. This plan of retaining Dr Holley in Louisiana, was conceived by some of our most respectable and wealthy sugar planters, who felt anxious to give a liberal education to their sons. When Dr Holley left us, the subscription, as well as I could ascertain, amounted to upwards of twentysix thousand dollars, and that in the space of three or four weeks. If this project had taken place in the winter season, when all our planters, from every part of the State, are collected in the city, I have no doubt but that the subscription, in the same space of' time, would have amounted to sixty or seventy thousand dollars. If Dr Holley had not become apprehensive of our climate, and had not abandoned us, for it was he that left us and not we him, my opinion is, and it is the opinion of many other persons, 275 that from one hundred and fifty to two hundred young men would have been placed under his care.' To a mind constituted like Dr Holley's, having recently re- ceived a deep wound in a favorite point, views were unfolded worthy of all consideration. An opportunity was offered him of practically vindicating to the world his former course. Resting entirely on his own responsibility, he could now act with promptness, decision, and energy. The emolument would be ample and at command, and would moreover redeem what he considered a culpable negligence in his past life-the failure to provide for the pecuniary wants of the future. It was not, however, without reluctance that he abandoned the first project; a project so much in unison with his taste, so full of various and delightful promise, and at the very moment of fruition. But the other enterprise would create a permanent institution of vast importance to an interesting and growing community. It would benefit society, make his family inde- pendent and happy, and reflect honor on his name. His mind, as it ever had done, yielded to the beauty of utility. After some reflection, he determined to accede to the proposal, and the following Prospectus, in French and English, was issued. 'Prospectus of a College near New Orleans, for a complete Course of Academical Instruction in the Languages and Sciences, with an especial Provisionfor Physical Education. ' Many in this community have long been sensible of the want of a sufficient number of academical institutions in Louis- iana, to give an adequate education to the youth of the State. We are aware that honorable exertions have been made to remedy this defect, and that there never has been any just cause for complaining of a parsimonious patronage on the part of the inhabitants. Much good instruction has been, and is still given in various ways to our children. We observe, however, at the present time, an unusual inadequacy in the means of a 276 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. sound and thorough American education, in this vicinity, for our sons, and we are earnestly desirous of effecting a change in this respect. We are obliged to send our children to various and distant States, and to seminaries greatly differing from one another in their systems of instruction, in the principles which they teach, and in the characters which they form. Large contributions are thus levied upon us from abroad, and sums, to a great amount, are taken from the State, which ought, unless a case of clear necessity be made out, to be employed at home. Such a necessity we do not believe to exist, and we are determined to make a full and fair experiment of the cor- rectness of our opinion. We do not like to see our sons lose either the physical or mental character, by which they are adapted to our climate and to our social condition, although we would qualify them to travel, where circumstances permit, and inclination directs, for their own improvement and that of the commonwealth, after the basis of patriotism has been laid amidst the families in which they were born, and among which we wish them to live. We believe that a college of the very best kind may be successfully conducted in a healthy situation near to this city, and we are ready to raise a liberal subscrip- tion for this purpose, as soon as a gentleman of experience, reputation, and acknowledged qualifications can be selected. Such a gentleman we are satisfied we have in the late President of Transylvania University, now in our city, on his way to Europe, with a private class of Louisianians. Dr Holley has already had the care of many of our sons for years, and all of them are grateful to him for the instructions which he has liber- ally imparted, and for the parental attentions which he and his family have perseveringly shown to them. We ardently en- courage the hope, that he may be induced to give up for the present his European tour, and establish himself permanently among us, as the superintendent of a college in our neighbour- hood, and as a citizen of our State. We know the importance which he attaches to the sound and liberal principles that be- 277 come an enlightened republic, and to the improvements which are now the objects of so much attention in a course of physic- al education in the Eastern institutions of our Atlantic border. Gymnastic and military exercises are found to be of great utility in promoting health and strength, and may be considered as the best, if not the indispensable means of a perfect training of the body, and of an entire and happy command of the limbs and muscles. A provision will be made for these, that all the pupils, whose parents wish, may enjoy them. ' We also know the high opinion which Dr Holley entertains of the value and necessity of the modern languages, and of the accomplishments which unite to form the gentleman and the scholar in the present advanced state of society. Not only will Greek and Latin be taught at his college, but the most sedulous attention will be paid to the English, French, and Spanish languages. The literature of these is now more abundant and useful than the literature of departed nations. The course of mathematics, now of so much importance in the best schools of the country, will be as full and complete as any in the United States. ' The immediate execution of this project is the object of the communication which we now lay before the friends and pat- rons of learning in New Orleans and its vicinity. We, who underwrite our names, engage, for the purpose here specified, to pay to the Rev. Horace Holley, LL. D. on demand, or within six months, or a year, the sums which we put down, expecting that at least thirty thousand dollars will be thus raised, which are to be devoted by him to the purchase, furniture, and general adaptation of a place in this neighbourhood, above or below the town, according to his judgment, after advice and information from some of our most judicious citizens, in an unquestionably healthy situation, for accomplishing, in the best manner, the ends already designated. We agree to let Dr Holley have the use of the sums, here named, for six years without interest, to encourage and enable him to make this es- 278 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. tablishment. We will either pay to him the money at the time the place purchased is conveyed to him, or we will give our notes with an endorsement to render them negotiable according to the known rules of men of business. The money is to be refunded to us at the end of the time above mentioned, and the place is to be mortgaged for security. As however, it may be more agreeable to a portion of the subscribers to make a donation of a small sum, rather than to loan a larger one, and thus to aid so valuable an object with less inconvenience, a provision of this kind is here introduced, and a column is ar- ranged for such subscriptions. 'It is intended ultimately to establish schools of law and medicine in connexion with the college; but the instruction of undergraduates claims our first attention, and is therefore the more immediate object of our present efforts.' A subscription was rapidly filling up, and a suitable and de- lightful situation, a few miles below the city, and near to the Battle Ground, was already the subject of negotiation. He engaged a commodious house in the same vicinity, until ar- rangements could be made for more extended operations, and in order to be on the spot to conduct them. It was furnished, and every preparation made for the pupils already under his care, now on a visit to their friends, that on their account no time might be lost. They were on the eve of returning to their studies. The season had now advanced to the beginning of July. The weather, though serene and beautiful, was excessively hot. Per- sons who have never been in tropical climates in the summer months, have no idea of such heats, of their oppressive, prostrat- ing influence. This influence, in the zeal and recklessness of self, incident to a new enterprise, was not taken into the ac- count, and here was the great and fatal error. The proper course would have been, to have retired from the scene, until the sea- son had become more propitious to mental, as well as bodily 279 exercise. But the character of Dr Holley's mind, and it was, as we have shown, an inheritance from his father, was remarka- ble for its impetuosity, both of purpose and execution. When he had willed, which he did almost with the quickness of intui- tion, he could not rest until he had also brought his plans into operation. There being now no obstacles to check his pur- poses, he set about the details of them with great energy. His plan contemplated an absence from Louisiana during the sickly months, but the first year he thought required his presence, and having necessarily been detained so long, by important con- siderations, and the delays incident to them, he concluded to remain. He was moreover assured that there was but little danger out of the city. There might have been no danger upon certain conditions; but those conditions are such as an active man can never attend to. When the more timid urged the contrary opinion, he did not wish to listen to it, and he would not be interrupted in his project. When, with extraordinary exertions, all was ready to com- mence the experiment, his manly and athletic form began to yield to the insidious and irresistible influence of climate. By constant exercise and exposure to the sun, debility, lassitude, and depression, the most annoying enemies to a vigorous man, overtook him. His active powers struggled long and nobly against the unseen foe. They were forced to submit and own themselves vanquished. This was discouraging indeed. It was the more mortifying because not contemplated. Men of san- guine temperament are not always patient under bodily mala- dies; his patience was now severely tried. It was affecting to behold a person so robust, a mind so noble, about to be overcome by so ignoble a foe. It was like a giant bound by innumerable silken threads. The struggle could not be long. To live, and not to act was impossible; and to act in such in- tense heat, was out of the question. How could one, all life and animation, whose every moment was devoted to soine intellectual pursuit, remain passive during the long months of APPENDIX. 280 APPENDIX. summer; how could so much time be wasted Thus, virtually, he reasoned. The perpetual sunshine, the ever blooming flowers, the soft air and rich perfumes, the luscious fruits, the now gentle Mis- sissippi, diminished in volume, and like a mirror reflecting the verdant shores, or, as he called it, a sea of melted glass; all this luxuriance of nature palled upon his sickened senses. The silence and solitude of man, amidst this profusion of sweets, was itself full of melancholy. It was the language of deep sen- timent addressed to the senses and the heart, with force and pathos, while the understanding slept and mourned. The naked slaves, whose broad shoulders were scorching beneath the fervid sun, appeared to his disordered fancy with more than their real deformity. Nor was the effect diminished by the sound of their deep-toned voices chanting the midnight chorus to the dashing oar, as they bore to the market the fruits of their toil. ' One breath of air,' he exclaimed, ' from the Northern shore of freedom, though borne upon the eastern gale, were worth all the boasted luxuries of the ever smiling, violet-scented South, alluring but to destroy.' It was in vain that the common opinion was now urged upon him, that in this state of things any change would be hazardous; that it would be safer to remain quiet, yield to present circum- stances, and endure present evils, more of a negative than positive character, than to expose his irritable system to new and violent action. The resolution was taken, and, as if to brave every species of danger, he determined to go to New York. The sea air he thought would invigorate him, and a visit to his friends would restore the tone of his mind, and his spirits. The arrangements were speedily made. Everything, hastily, with great fatigue and considerable exposure to the noonday sun, was adjusted. Neatness and order were soon restored to their primative chaos. The passage was taken in the first packet ship, and it is believed the only one of the season, which 36 281 bore in its bosom, disease and death. The ship Louisiana, not less conscious than its unfortunate inmates of its fatal commis- sion, was destined, by that inscrutable Providence which guides its simplest agents with the same unerring wisdom as the nobler elements of the universe, to be the scene of the last act of the tragedy we are relating. It bore him, not to the land of his earthly parents, for which his heart yearned, and to which his last pulsation was true, but to a better land, a better home-to Him, whose paternal attributes he loved to recognise, and con- template, in a spirit of profound admiration and reverence, to that Father who dwells in heaven. The letter which is here intro- duced-it is the last he ever wrote-will best exhibit the state of his mind, as well as of his physical system, on leaving New Orleans. 'New Orleans, July 19th, 1827. 'MY DEAR CHILDREN- ' Your mother's letter has probably informed you, before this time, that we are on the eve of embarking for New York. The entire reason for this is the effect of the extreme heat upon my system. I became excessively bilious first, vomiting every evening for four days, and then was covered with a universal rash, denominated here and elsewhere, prickly heat. It is upon me now, and produces, after dinner and at night, sensa- tions of being stuck with pins and needles all over the body. This is not dangerous, but is a good symptom of a successful acclimation. The process, however, is peculiarly disagreeable, and keeps my physical system in such a state of irritation as to be almost beyond endurance. I am now satisfied that I should ultimately have good health in this climate, but I think it haz- ardous to spend the first summer here, although I have thrown off favorably the late bilious attack. The most trying season is yet to come, and I intend to fly from it. We are to embark in the Louisiana, on Sunday next, the twentysecond, a good ship, with a handsome and airy cabin. APPENDIX. 282 'We had just fixed ourselves at housekeeping when I was taken ill. We should have had our pupils with us in a day or two after I determined to break up and go north. Several of them had purchased their bedsteads and mattresses, and were ready to set out for my college. It was necessary for me to decide promptly, and send information to the parents, or it would have been difficult to break up at all. I chose the alternative, as you see, and still think I did right, although I am now much better, and although your mother was for remaining. We shall probably return here in November, as the patrons of the insti- tution are determined to persevere in it, according to the plan already adopted. They urge me to return, and the prospect here is unquestionably a good one. It must be acknowledged that the climate for nearly four months of the year is a great drawback on the pleasure of existence. This is compensated in part by the agreeableness of the air for the remainder. Had it continued to affect me as delightfully as at first, and as it seems to affect your mother yet, it would be a paradise; but sometimes I feel as though immediate suffocation would take place. The sea breeze is feeble when it reaches us, and the still air of summer is remarkably oppressive. The whole twentyfour hours are never stagnant, but large portions of them are so, and I always experience great depression then. Activity in the atmosphere is peculiarly important in New Orleans. When the thermometer does not vary, our sensations do, to a wonderful extent, as the air moves, or is still. When the breeze is fresh, if you take a corner or nook, where it is not felt, there seems to be no vitality in respiration. Judge Martin says, in his history of Louisiana, that the heat is not as oppressive in any of the West India Islands. After all this, there are very strong inducements to live here; and here we shall probably spend the remainder of life, after our northern tour. Of this, however, we shall keep you informed, after we arrive in the Eastern States. 'Your affectionate Father, I HORACE HOLLEY.' APPENDIX. 283 As if there were a more than common charm in the idea of returning to the scenes of his youth, when on board the ship and the anchor weighed he recovered at once all the energy of his mind and body. Indeed, while partaking of the last hos- pitalities at a friendly board, his spirit, moved with the fervor of excited feeling, exhibited that playfulness and brilliancy which ever distinguished him on such occasions. Amidst the spark- lings of wit, the kindest feelings were reciprocated in the usual expressions of ' Health and happiness ' on one side, ' A prosper- ous voyage and speedy return' on the other. The last adieus, rendered touching by the retrospect, ex- changed, the ship moved from the crowded Levie. It passed down the stream under the full pressure of sails, steam, and current, along that beautiful Coast, then exhibiting the richest luxuriance of nature, as if revelling in the glowing influence of the climate. The sweetest odors were wafted on every breeze from the wide waste of flowers. The shores on either side, studded with the elegant villas and cottages of the plantations, displayed their fields of young sugar-cane expanding its glossy leaves to the vivifying sun, now verging to the west. The scene was lovely and inspired his imagination. His genius and his heart were again warmed by this exuberance of Nature. It was a delicious evening. The heat was softened by the breeze created by rapid motion, and the heart by tender recollections of the fond regrets and affectionate wishes of friends, whose kind hospitalities and generous attachment had consecrated the period of a short residence amongst them-a period as delight- ful as brief. He conversed, while passing the field of war, on the scenes of the glorious Eighth, their military and political bearings, of other points on the river of domestic or historical note, with the origin of their names, and their date-his excursive mind run- ning over all that was remarkable in the past, or desirable in the future. He spoke of his own contemplated achievement in this glorious field of literary enterprise, giving to martial deeds also APPENDIX. 284 APPENDIX. a classic celebrity. Alas! to him there was to be no earthly future. The ship, hitherto conducted by that beautiful combi- nation of nature and art, a steam tow-boat, was left to its own .powers of locomotion. Another day had dawned. Awaken- ed from short and broken slumbers, after sending by the return boat, hasty and final adieus, and an ' All's well' to anxious and dear, some of them distant friends, we soon passed that vener- able point of nautical celebrity, the residence of pilots, lights, and such other aids as the suffering, benighted mariner must of- ten need, and always be grateful for-the Balize. The wind was fair and fresh. The canvass spread to the breeze. The ship, as if conscious of its self-moving power, went proudly on. Every heart within its enclosure beat high with hope and pleas- ure. Every eye was animated, with the inquiry, Who were its neighbours, and what were to be the enjoyments of these new associations-this new existence, where there was to be no business, no constraint, no care. The first object that arrested attention was a vessel aground, which three days before had been borne down the stream as gayly and as triumphantly as the Louisiana, the captain just dead, and some of the crew dying. This intelligence from the pilot was appalling-nay, to Greek and Roman philosophy would have conveyed a dark and fearful omen. But as Christians we passed on in hope and confidence, thanking Heaven for our happier lot, our perfect security from similar danger. It was interesting to trace the different passes, or outlets, of this great river, diverging like the ragged and extended roots of an aged oak; to observe the bodies of soil and vegetation brought down by the immense volume of the spring current, and deposited in ridges just discernible above the surface of the water, corresponding with the passes, and annually encroaching upon the sea. Next came the strongly marked line which di- vides the turbid river from the emerald gulf, before it gives place to the dark deep blue of the ocean. Entered upon that world of waters, to the eye as boundless as the ocean, it pre- 285 sented to the imagination an emblem of eternity. To some of the company how near was that ocean of time ! To an inquisitive mind the first hours on shipboard are full of novel and curious matter for speculation. So many people of different countries, characters, views, and pursuits, suddenly brought together in so small a space, in a sort of domestic re- lation, requiring reciprocal offices of good will and forbearance, afford abundant scope for reflection. Such a mind as has been described, placed in a situation so new, having passed rapidly through scenes so various and interesting, could not but have its sensibilities awakened in an uncommon degree. Among the passengers were several gentlemen of Louisiana, distinguished alike for their intelligence and courtesy. With these Mr Hol- ley discoursed often and long, taking a wide range over the fields of literature, criticism, and poetry; the wonders of nature and of art; and the variety, capacity and astonishing adaptation to all its purposes, of the human character. He spoke of Louis- iana, and of his contemplated project; for although the singular, and to him almost insupportable influence of the climate had for the moment disinclined him to continue his exertions there, the recovery of vigorous thought and healthful feeling revived his ardor for their prosecution and consummation. He spoke of returning to resume his labors, with renovated health, at the season favorable to mental action. He even dwelt with enthu- siasm on the excellence of his plan; the liberal and generous views of the gentlemen who had been active in promoting it; and the certainty of success. ' But who shall avert the divine decree-who dispute its unerring wisdom ' as elegantly ex- pressed by the pen of an accomplished female, who, in common with many persons in that land of sensibility, regarded with sym- pathy the melancholy event. ' Les desseins de la Providence seront toujours couverts d'un voile impenetrable a la fragile- hu- manit, qui court a sa perte.' For the first four days, with the exception of the desagr- mens of sea-sickness, the voyage was delightful. It was like a 286 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. party of pleasure, and some of the company were ready to ex- claim, ' How charming it is to be at sea!' The most perfect harmony, and a spirit of mutual accommodation prevailed. There was not a circumstance of the least unpleasant nature to mar the scene, except a slight indisposition of one of the pas- sengers, which called forth the sympathy and attention of the rest, but excited no alarm. Though this gentleman manifested, at times, symptoms of delirium, he was dressed, walking the deck, and, as it was hoped, recovering. On the fourth day, in particular, when the effects of seasickness had subsided, the most perfect contentment and satisfaction lighted up every countenance. The weather was fine. The sun's fervor was softened by a gentle breeze, which wafted the ship smoothly on its course, while, with the best possible spirits, not only from the happy influences of the present, but from the fond an- ticipations of a speedy meeting with friends, all yielded to the simple though various occupations of a sea life. Some were gazing on the immense profound, and watching the gambols of the sharks, porpoises, and dolphins, with their attendant the flying fish, or rapt in the sentiment of the scene, the compara- tively frail bark seeming a world in the midst of infinity. Some were interested in the little contrivances that furnish the amuse- ment of a ship, where no one is disposed for serious occupa- tion, but every one for ease, and those gentle exercises of skill, or imagination, which belong to a passive life-to games of chance, or to contemplative reveries, according to the disposi- tion or habits of the individual; all serving to beguile the mo- ments, and to soothe, without fatiguing, the mind. Having dined, the passengers were on deck, inhaling, as they thought, the health-giving breeze, and disposed in groups ac- cording to their elective affinities, attracted by conversation or song; and one was striking the lively guitar. As if to increase by contrast the horrors of the scenes which were soon to follow, all was peace and joy and delightful presentiment. Those who preferred the loftier themes of philosophy, of whom was our gift- 287 ed friend, gave the bright moments to moral sentiment, to poetical imaginings, or to metaphysical abstractions. That noble mind, like the fabulous bird, which, about to expire, breathes its richest notes, beamed in brightness then. It was the last illumination of that brilliant intellect. The sun sunk beneath the wave. The wind stiffened. There was a solemn darkness and a sullen swell of the sea, which seemed portentous. The ship rolled and tossed; the elements grew angry; the storm began. All was dismay. Every individual silently crept to the nearest couch. The writer, impelled by a dreadful sickness, dropped upon a settee on the deck, a quiet witness of the tremendous scene. Every man was at his post. Every voice was hushed, save that of the captain, whose hoarse tones mingling with the blast, gave the word of command to the fearless, faithful mariners. The tempest howled, the lightning flashed in such a blaze of bright- ness, as, for the instant, gave to every object, with magnified dimensions, the distinctness of day. The giddy masts, the bursting sails, the shrowds and yards rapidly and successively manned by the hardy and the brave, alternately rising in the air and dipping in the surge, presented to the eye of the silent, suffering spectator, a reality that' needed no effect from the coloring of fancy. At intervals might be heard the groans of the dying; for at twelve this night the sick passenger expired, adding an awful and religious solemnity to a moment of terrific grandeur. All these circumstances formed a scene of dismay which required not the force of contrast to deepen it. And though the skilful sailor, in a good ship, on the broad sea, fears no danger, to the inexperienced landsman there was enough of the natural and moral sublime. To the timid there was an effect which no imagination could heighten; to the female heart a touching power which no language could portray. Those ' midnight hours at sea,' those hours of watchfulness, of silent submission, of danger, and of death, were fraught with a horror at which memory shudders. They inspired a sentiment too 288 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. profound for utterance. The penetrated soul could but look up to that Being, who alone can hush the mighty storm and bid the waves be still. But terrible as was this scene, it was but a prelude to the disasters which were to follow. Whilst gazing upon this con- flict of nature, and deprecating its fatal issue, no thought oc- curred of other danger. But amidst the war of elements with- out, the silent and insidious agents of death were pffecting, with less erring aim, the work of destruction within. The morning light brought to view, not only the raging surge, but the equally raging fever. Headaches, and other forms of indisposition prevailed. The deceased passenger, with as much order and decency as the motion of the ship would admit of, the last sad rites performed, was committed to his ocean grave. The prayers, though short, were solemn and heartfelt. To those whose strength and spirits were prostrated, and especially to the occupant of the settee, who had to resign it for the last office to the dead, and then resume it again, there being no other, this ceremony seemed no very auspicious omen. But with that blunted sensibility, which irresistible calamities never fail to produce, they bore patiently the increasing evils, and calmly awaited their fate. The subject of this memoir, having slept, or rather watched, below, came, with difficulty, upon deck, clinging by all the objects in his way, his temples throbbing, and complaining of excessive lassitude, nausea, and headache. He inquired of one and another if it was usual for sea-sickness-he had not before experienced that evil-to be attended with such violent symptoms. Assured that it often happened, and that there was no cause of alarm, he quietly resigned himself to the influence of a disease, which, had it been suspected, might possibly, at this stage of it, have been arrested. Three days and nights the storm without, and disease with- in, continued their force unspent. One and another of the crew fell victims, while others sunk and rose again. Such 37 289 medicines were administered as are emplyed in common cases, and as were compatible with the situation of the sufferers; a situ-tion but little adapted to the comforts and necessities of the sick. Rest and quietness were out of the question. A still, dark room, a bed of suitable dimensions, with constant and careful attendants-any one circumstance included in the word home, had been more than luxury. Let those who would learn the full meaning of that dearest of all names, experience a dis- tressing, paralyzing illness at sea, and they will know its full import. Hitherto no one had expressed a fear of a dangerous disease on board, so little do we feel and understand impend- ing evil. It now became calm, and there wa3 time and oppor- tunity to attend to the suffering and helpless. The danger of Dr Holley's situation became too apparent. His eyes were half closed, his mind wandering. The same medicines were repeated, the doses doubled, and all other means of relief ap- plied, which the kind hearted, though unskilled, in their good- ness could command. The disease which in its early stages might perhaps have been checked, had now acquired force and strength, and soon triumphed over one of the finest of constitutions, as well as most brilliant of intellects. The fifth of the disease, and the tbirtyfirst of the month, was the fatal day. The sun rose in all the brightness and intense heat of a tro- pical region. It was a dead calm. Not a breath of air skim- med the surface of the sea, or fanned the burning brow of the sufferer. The writer of this article, who still lay in silent an- guish, a speechless spectator of the scene, expected, while conscious of anything but distress, to be the next victim, and who, losing at times even all sense of suffering in the womanish feeling occasioned by the circumstance of there not being a female hand to perform the last sad offices of humanity, has a confused recollection of horror, of the solemn looks of the passengers pacing to and fro upon the deck, of a deathlike still- ness, broken by groans, and half uttered sentences, and of a little soft voice trying to soothe the last moments, and to inter- 290 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. pret the last accents of his dying parent. All this she heard, without sense enough to request to be carried to the spot, or to realize that it meant death. When the groans and spasms had ceased, it seemed to be only a release from pain, a temporary sleep. When all was hushed, and the report of pistols, and the fumes of burning tar announced the fatal issue, trusting in that Divine Being, into whose presence she expected soon to be ushered, believing, as far as reflection had exercise, that the separation was but for a little space, she heard, with the firm- ness of despair, and with silent awe, the parting waters receive the scarce breathless form of him who had been her pride and boast, as he had been the admiration of all to whom he was known-his winding sheet a cloak, his grave the wide ocean, his monument the everlasting Tortugas-all this she heard and lives. Days of protracted suffering passed heavily on. During the long nights of sleepless anguish, the only wakeful eye being his at the neighbouring helm, that same little voice was often heard amidst the solemn stillness, like some soft spirit of the air chanting a requiem to the dead. That the author lives to tell the story, is matter, perhaps, of greater surprise to herself than to others; for who could know the extent of her sufferings and her danger It need, not, if it could be told, how returning strength and increased sensibility brought also that mental anguish which attends a clearer sense of calamity, of the blow which prostrated, which crushed every hope of life, but did not quite destroy. But it may not in gratitude be omitted to state how that ebbing life was sustained. Unprotected and helpless, and with only the glimmerings of reason, the writer was thrown upon the mercy of strangers. To man, in this case, may be ascribed The child had a habit of singing to himself, and being feverish and wake- ful, his voice might be heard for hours in the night, as he lay in his birth. As it was the only sound, the attentive and now sensitive passengers, rouged by it from their slumbers in the cabin below, would come to him and feel his pulse to discover if it proceeded from delirium. 291 that praise which our countryman Ledyard so liberally bestow- ed on woman. It is grateful to the philanthropist to observe such spontaneous goodness. It is delightful to those who ad- mire the wisdom and goodness of God's works, to be able to bear testimony to the disinterested benevolence of abused hu- man nature. It is a duty in those who experience such good- ness, and such benevolence to make the sacred record. t To the passengers, and to the Captain and officers of the ship, this praise is due. By them, under Heaven, the writer's life was preserved. From them, not only respect, but every delicate attention was experienced. Their voyage was rendered un- pleasant and tedious, having continually to act the physician and nurse, to suffer privation and annoyance from groans, sighs, and lamentations, with all the other dismal attendants of severe illness, with constant exposure to the same disease. Kind and attentive to the last, not a murmur escaped them. They cheer- fully administered to the wants of the dying, and the scarcely living. That breath which should be spent in praise to God, and thanks to them, were worth preserving, if but to express this unaffected tribute of gratitude. One more struggle and this melancholy narrative is closed. A death-bed scene is always solemn, always impressive. We cannot look with unconcern upon the last moments of the hum- blest individual, much less upon one who has been so distin- guished. When genius and talent are taken from the world, our sensibility is more deeply engaged, our reflections more profoundly exercised. See Sparks's Ledyard, p. 264. 't Upon the whole,' says the great traveller, ' mankind have used me well. I feel myself much indebted for that urbanity which I always thought more general than many think it to be; and were it not for the mischievous laws, and bad examples of some governments I have passed through, I am per- suaded I should be able to give you a still better account of our fellow crea- tures, p. 189. ' Hospitality I have found as universal as the face of man.' Life of Ledyard, p. 202. 292 APPENDIX. APPENDIX. The writer feels that there must be some who would expe- rience a mournful pleasure in being admitted to a nearer view of the last end of him, whose history has been briefly traced in the preceding pages. There may be others who are only curi- ous to inquire, as matter for cavil, if that great mind, whose elevation they could not reach, was not appalled by a retrospect of its own sentiments on the approach of death. Into the par- ticulars of Dr Holley's death-bed scene, it is not to be expected that the writer of this narrative can possibly enter. Neither her condition at the time, nor her feelings now, permit the effort. But she trusts she is not wanting in that knowledge of the sub- ject, or that degree of self-command, which may enable her to give a correct, though general view of it. She is certainly familiar with his prevailing feelings in the prospect of death, whether near or remote. For the friends of the deceased, it is poroper to reiate, that the views of religion he professed, were those which make the best preparation for life, or for death. He was always ready to die, and many persons recollect his cfterL expressed wish that his death might be sudden. The doctrine he prqaccied, and endeavoured to illustrate as wEll av imc qaytsvfs, that in order to die well we must live well. -Hfe had no great respect for that preparation which is got up for the occasion. He be- lieved that the example and precepts of the Saviour demon- strated the same doctrine. The issue of this faith he was willing to leave with the Supreme Being, to whose will we should be resigned in death as in life. Few men were more intimate than he with the scriptures, or sought more diligently for the divine will, whether expressed in them, or manifested in the works of creation. His was not therefore a blind faith. It was practical in its nature, and operative in its character. It was the result of light and evidence earnestly sought for, dili- gently collected, and faithfully considered. It was the food of that hope which never, for a moment, withdrew its enlivening beams-which cheered him in health and prosperity, sustained 293 294 APPENDIX. him in sickness and adversity, and, while reason remained, extended its influence to his latest hours. While his friends, therefore, have reason to rejoice in the abundant splendor and usefulness of his life, his enemies can gather from his death nothing to serve them as a ground of triumph. He exhibited, at all times, that sereneness and calm confidence of soul which belong only to the man, 'Whose yesterdays look backward with a smile, Nor like the Parthian, wound him as they fly.' 'CHE END.