120 Had. When? Tam. Now, as thou camest. Had. "T is but thy fancy, wrought Stood listening in the zenith; yea, have deemed Tam. But these Had. Were we in Syria, I might say The Naiad of the fount, or some sweet Nymph, Judah would call me infidel to Moses, Tam. How like my fancy! When these strains precede Thy steps, as oft they do, I love to think Some gentle being who delights in us Is hoveri: g near, and warns me of thy coming; Had. Youthful fantasy, Attuned to sadness, makes them seem so, lady, Tam. But how delicious are the pensive dreams Had. Delicious to behold the world at rest. hark! What merry strains they send from Clivet! THE TEMPTATION. ABSOLOM, the father of TAMAR, is slain, and IIADAD entreats Tam. (in alarm.) What mean'st thou? Alas! Tam. My father?-Gracious Heaven!— Had. Dearest Tamar,-Israel's Hope- (TAMAR, with convulsed cry, bursts into tears: The bond is rent that knit thee to thy country. Tam. (clasping her hands.) Am I an orphan? Tam. Misguided father!-Hadst thou but listened, Had. But now, what choice is left? Tam. One-stricken-hoary head remains. Had. The slayer of thy parent-Wouldst thou go Tam. All is expiated now. Had. Tamar-wilt thou forsake me? Tam. I must go to David. Had. (aside.) Cursed thought! Think of your lot-neglect, reproach, and scorn, Had. (in an altered tone.) Hold! hold! For thou must hear.-If deaf to love, thou 'rt not (TAMAR startled:-he proceeds, but agitated I can transport thee, to a paradise, The Elemental Powers shall stoop-the Sea Had. (vhemently.) Speak-answer Wilt thou be mine, if mistress of them all? Tam. Thy mien appals me;-I know not what I fear Thou wouldst not wrong me,-reft and father less Confided to thee as a sacred trust-. Had. (haughtily.) My power Is questioned. Whom dost thou imagine mc? Tam. O, Hadad, Hadad, what unhallow'd thought Had. Still, still, Thou call'st me Hadad,-boy, worm, heritor Tam. Seraphs hover round me! emotions.) (Struggling, as with conflicting What thou so dotest on-this form-was Hadad's- I, who commune with thee, have dared, proved, In life-in death-and in that state whose bale Tam. (in a low voice of supplication.) Heaven! Forsake me not! THE EDUCATION OF MEN OF LEISURE FROM THE RELATIONS OF LITERATURE TO A REPUBLICAN GOVERNMENT. In casting about for the means of opposing the sensual, sejish, and mercenary tendencies of our nature (the real Hydra of free institutio is), and of so elevating man, as to reader it not chimerical to expect from him the safe ordering of his steps, no mere human agency can be compared with the re urces laid up in the great TREASURE-HOUSE OF LITERATURE.-There, is collecte the accumulated experience of ages, the volumes of the historian, like lamps, to guide our feet;-there stand the heroic patterns of courage, maganimity, and self-denying virtue:-there are embodied the gentler attributes, which soften and purify, while they charn the heart-there lie the charts of those who have explored the deeps and shallows of the soul:-there the dear-bought testimo y, which reveals to us the ends of the earth, and shows, that the girdle of the waters is nothing but their Maker's will:-there stands the Poet's harp, of mighty compass, and many strings: there hang the deep-toned instrumets through which patriot eloquelice has poured its inspiring echoes over oppressed nations:-there, in the sanetity of their own self-emittel ligh, repose the Heave.ly oracles. This glorious fae, vast, and full of wonders, has been rearel and store! by the labors of Letterel Men; and could it be destroyed, mankind might relapse to the state of savages. To A restless, discontente 1, aspiring, immortal principle, placed in a material form, whose clamorous appetites, bitter pains, and final languishing and decay, are perpetually at war with the peace and innocence of the s i itual occupa .t: and have, inoreover, power to jeopard its lasti. g welfare; is the mysterious combination of Hamaa Nature! employ the never-resting faculty; to turn of its desires from the dangerous illusions of the senses to the ennobling enjoyments of the mind; to place before the high-reaching principle, objects that will excite, and reward its efforts, and, at the same time, not unfit a thing inmortal for the probabilities that await it when time shall be no more;-these are the legitimate aims of a perfect education. Left to the scanty round of gratifications supplied by the senses, or ekel by the frivolous gieties which wealth mistakes for pleasure, the u.furnished mind becomes weary of all things and itself. With the capacity to feel its wretchedness, but without tastes or intellectual light to guide it to any ave..ue of escape, it gropes rond its confines of clay, with the sensations of a caged wild beast. It riseth up, it moveth to and fro, it liet down again. In the morning it says, Woul God it were evening! in the evening it cries, Would God it were morning! Driven in upon itself, with passions and desires that madden for action, it grows desperate; its vision becomes perverted: and, at last, vice and ignominy seem preferable to what the great Poet calls" the hell of the lukewarm." Such is the end of many a youth, to whom authoritative discipline and enlarged teaching might have early opened the interesting spectacle of man's past and prospective destiny. Instead of languishing-his mind might have throbbed and burned, over the trials, the oppressions, the fortitude, the triu nphs, of men and nations:-bethed upon by the life-giving lips of the Patriot, he might have discoverel, that he had not only a country to love, but a head and a heart to serve her:-going out with Science, in her researches through the universe, he might have found, amidst the secrets of Nature, ever-growing fool for reflection and delight:cending where the Muses sit, he might have gazed on transporting scenes, and transfigured beings; and -as snatched, through heaven's half-unfolded portals, glimpses unutterable of things beyond. In view of these obvious co siderations, one of the strangest misconceptions is that which blinds us to the policy, as well as duty, of educating in the most finished manner our youth of large expectations, expressly to meet the dangers and fulfil the duties of men of leisure. The mischievous, and truly American notion, that, to enjoy a respectable position, every man must traffic, or preach, or practise, or hold an office, brings to beggary and infamy, many who might have lived, under a juster estimate of things, usefully and happily; and cuts us off from a 1 eedful as well as orname..tal, portion of society. The necessity of labo ing for sustenance is, indeed, the great safeguard of the world, the ballast, without which the wild passions of men would bring communities to speedy wreck. But man will not labor without a motive; ad successful accumulation, on the part of the parent, deprives the son of this impulse. Instead, the, of vainly contending against laws, as insurmountable as those of physics, and attempting to drive their children into lucrative industry, why do not men, who have made themselves opulent, open their eyes, at once, to the glari g fact, that the cause,-the cause itself,-which braced their own nerves to the struggle for fortune, does not exist for their offspring? The father has taken from the son his motive!-a motive confessedy important to happiness and virtue, in the present state of things. He is bound, therefore, by every consideration of prudence and humanity, neither to attempt to drag him forward without a cheering, animati..g principle of action,―nor recklessly to abandon him to his own guillance,. or to poiso i him with the love of lucre for itself; but, under new circumstances,-with new prospects,—at a totally different starting-place from his owa,- -'o supply other motives,-drawn from our sensibility to reputation,-from our natural desire to know,-from ai enlarged view of our capacities and enjoyments, and a more high and liberal estimate of our relations to society. Fearful, indeed, is the responsibility of leavi. g youth, without mental resources, to the temptations of splendid idleness! Men who have not considered this subject, while the objects of their affection yet surround their table, dop no see is of generous sentiments, animate them with 10 discourse on the beauty of disinterestedness, the paramou..t value of the mind, and the digity of that re.owa which is the e ho of illustrious actions. Absorbed in one pursuit, their morning precept, their mid-day example, and their evening inoral, too often co spire to teach a single maxim, and that in direct contradiction of the inculcation, so often and so variously repeated: "It is better to get wisdom than goll." Right views, a careful choice of agents, and the delegation, betimes, of strict authority, would insure the bject. Only let the parent feel, and the son be early taught, that, with the command of money and leisure, to enter on manhood without havi g mastered every attainable accomplishme t, is more disgraceful than threadbare garments, and we might have the happiness to see In the inheritos of paternal wealth, less frequently, idle, ignorant prodiga's and heart-breakers, and more frequently, high-minded, highly educated young men, embellishi. g, if not called to public trusts, a private station. JOHN W. FRANCIS. DR. JOHN W. FRANCIS, whose long intimacy and association with two generations of American authors constitute an additional claim, with his own professional and literary reputation, upon honor able attention in any general memorial of American literature, was born in the city of New York, November 17, 1789. His father, Melchior Francis, was a native of Nuremberg, Germany, who came to America shortly after the establishment of American independence. He followed the business, in New York, of a grocer, and was known for his integrity and enterprise. He fell a victim to the yellow fever. Dr. Francis's mother was a lady of Philadelphia. Her maiden name was Sommers, of a family originally from Berne, in Switzerland. It is one of the favorite historical reminiscences of her son that she remembered when those spirits of the Revolution, Franklin, Rush, and Paine, passed her door in their daily associations, and the children of the neighborhood would cry out, "There go Poor Richard, Common Sense, and the Doctor." Ilis association with Franklin is not merely a matter of fancy. In his youth Francis had chosen the calling of a printer, and was enlisted to the trade in the office of the strong-minded, intelligent, and everindustrious George Long, who was also a prominent bookseller and publisher of the times, and who, emigrating from England by way of the Canadas, had carved out his own fortunes by his self-denial and perseverance. We have heard Mr. Long relate the anecdote of the hours stolen by the young Francis from meal-time and recreation, as, sitting under his frame, he partook of a frugal apple and cracker, and conned eagerly the Latin grammar; and of the pleasure with which he gave up his hold on the young scholar, that he might pursue the career to which his tastes and love of letters urged him. At this early period, while engaged in the art of printing, he was one of the few American subscribers to the English edition of Rees's Cyclopædia, which he devoured with the taste of a literary epicure; he afterwards became a personal friend and correspondent of the learned editor, and furnished articles for the London copy of that extensive and valuable work. His mother, who had been left in easy circumstances, had provided liberally for his education: first at a school of reputation, under the charge of the Rev. George Strebeck, and afterwards securing him the instructions in his classic l studies of the Rev. John Conroy, a graduate of Trinity College, Dublin. He was thus enabled to enter an advanced class of Columbia College, and he pushed his advantages still further by commencing his medical studies during his undergraduate cour-e. He received his degree in 1809, and adopting the pursuit of medicine, became the pupil of the celebrated Dr. Hosack, then in the prime of lifeand height of his metropolitan reputation. now became the medical partner of Hosack, an association which continued till 1820, and the fruits of which were not confined solely to his profession, as we find the names of the two united in many a scheme of literary and social advance ment. In compliment to his acquirements and personal accomplishments, Francis was appointed Lecturer on the Institutes of Medicine and the Materia Medica in the state college. In 1813, when the medical faculty of Columbia College and of the "Physicians and Surgeons" were united, he received from the regents of the state the appointment of Professor of Materia Medica. With characteristic liberality he delivered his course of lectures without fees. His popularity gained him from the students the position of president of their Medico-Chirurgical Society, in which he succeeded Dr. Mitchill. At this time he visited Great Britain and a portion of the continent. In London he attended the lectures and enjoyed a friendly intercourse with Abernethy, to whom he carried the first American reprint of his writings. On receiving the volumes from the hands of Francis, satisfied with the compliment from the distant country, and not dreaming of copyright possibilities in those days, the eccentric physician grasped the books, ran his eye hastily over them, and set them on the mantelpiece of his study, with the exclamation, “Stay here, John Abernethy, until I remove you! Egad! this from America!" In Edinburgh, his acquaintance with Jameson, Playfair, John Bell, Gregory, Brewster, and the Duncans, gave him every facility of adding to the stores of knowledge. A residence of six months in London, and attendance on Abernethy and St. Bartholomew's Hospital, with the lectures of Pearson and Brande, increased these means; and in Paris, Gall, Denon, Dupuytren, were found accessible in the promotion of his scientific designs. He returned to New York, bringing with him the foundation of a valuable library, since grown to one of the choicest private collections of the city. There were numerous changes in the administration of the medical institution to which he was attached, but Francis, at one time Professor of the Institutes of Medicine, at another of Medical Jurisprudence, and again of Obstetrics, held position in them all till his voluntary resignation with the rest of the faculty, in 1826; when he took part in the medical school founded in New York under the auspices of the charter of Rutgers College. Legislative enactments dissolved this school, which had, while in operation, a most successful career. But its existence was in nowise compatible with the interests In 1811 Francis received his degree of M.D. of the state school. For about twenty years he from the College of Physicians and Surgeons, was the assiduous and successful professor in which had been established in 1807 under the several departments of medical science. With presidency of Dr. Romayne, and which had been his retirement from this institution ceased his lately reorganized, with Dr. Bard at its head. professorial career, though he was lately the first Francis's name was the first recorded on the list president of the New York Academy of Medicine, of graduates of the new institution. The subject and is at present head of the Medical Board of of his Essay on the occasion was The Use of Mer- the Bellevue Hospital. He has since been a cury, a topic which he handled not only with leading practitioner in the city of New York, medical ability, but with a great variety of his frequently consulted by his brethren of the fatorical research. The paper was afterwards pub-culty, and called to solve disputed points in the lished in the Medical and Philosophical Register, and gained the author much distinction. He courts of medical jurisprudence. In 1810 he founded, in conjunction with Hosack, JOHN W. FRANCIS. the American Medical and Philosophical Register, which he continued through four annual volumes. It was a very creditable enterprise, and now remains for historical purposes one of the most valuable journals of its class. Though dealing largely in the then engrossing topic of epidemics, its pages are by no means confined to medicine. It led the way with the discussion of steam and canal navigation, with papers from Wilson's OrniFulton, Stevens, and Morris. thology, Livingston's merino sheep-hearing at Clermont, the biography of professional and other worthies, with the universalities of Mitchill, each had a share of its attention. It also contains a number of well executed original engravings; and for all the-e things it should not be forgotten there was, as usual in those time; with such advances in the liberal arts, an unpaid expenditure of brain, and a decidedly unremunerating investment of money. Besides his contributions to this journal, his medical publications include his enlarged edition of Denman's Midwifery, which has several times been reprinted, Cases of Morbid Anatomy, On the Value of Vitriolic Emetics in the Membranous Stage of Croup, Facts and Inferences in Medical Jurisprudence, On the Anatomy of Drunkenness, and Death by Lightning, &, essays on the cholera of New York in 1832, on the mineral waters of Avon, two discourses before the New York Academy of Medicine, and other minor performances. He John W Francy Johnt was also one of the editors, for some time, of the New York Medical and Physical Journal. He has been a prominent actor through the seasons of pestilence in New York for nearly fifty years; and was the first who awakened the attention of the medical faculty of the United States to the fact of the rare susceptibility of the human constitution to a second attack of the pestilential yellow fever, which he made known in his letter on Febrile Contagion, dated London, June, 1816. In general literature, the productions of Francis, though the occupation of inoments extorted from his overwrought profession, are numerous. He has largely added to our stock of biographical knowledge by many articles. IIis account of Franklin in New York has found its way into Valentine's Manual. He has delivered addresses before the New York Horticultural Society in 1829; the Philolexian Society of Columbia College in 1831, the topic of which is the biography of Chancellor Livingston; the discourse at the opening of the New Hall of the New York Lyceum of Natural History in 1836; several speeches at the IIistorical Society and the Typographical Society of New York, before which he read, at the anniversary in 1852, a paper of Reminiscences of Printers, Authors, and Booksellers of New York, which, as it was afterwards published at length,* constitutes an interesting addition to the literary history of the country. It is filled with vivid pictures of by-gone worthies, and might be readily enlarged from the published as well as conversational stores of the author to a large volume; for Francis has been a liberal contributor to the numerous labors of this kind of the Knapps, Dunlaps, Thachers, and others, from whose volumes he might reclaim many a fugitive pago. His notices of Daniel Webster, called forth by the public proceedings after the death of that statesman, have been published by the Common Council of the city. His reminiscences of the novelist Cooper, with whom his relation had been one of long personal friendship, called forth by a similar occasion, appeared in the "Memorial" of the Dr. Francis is a novelist, published in 1852. member of many Medical and Philosophical Associations both abroad and in his native lan l. In 1850 he received the degree of LL.D. from Trinity College, Connecticut. One of the latest and most characteristic of these biographical sketches is the paper on Christopher Colle, read in 185 it before the New York Historical Society, of which Dr. Francis has been, from an early date, a most efficient supporter. The subject was quaint and learned, with rare opportunities for picturesque description in the fortunes of a simple-minded, enthusiastic city reformer and philosopher, whose slender purse was out of all proportion with his enthusiasm and talent. His virtues were kindly dealt with, and his abilities intelligently set forth; while his "thin-spun life" was enriched by association with the memorable men and things of old New York in his day. While thus inclined to dwell with the past, Dr. Francis, in his genial home, draws together the refined activities of the present. At his house in Bond street, enjoying the frankness and freedom of his warm, unobtrusive hospitality, may be met most of the literary and scientific celebrities of the time, who make their appearance in the metropolis. The humor and character of the host are universal solvents for all tastes and temperaments. Art, science, opera, politics, theology, and, above all, American history and antiquities, are handled, in that cheerful society, with zest and animation. If a dull argument or an In the International Mag. for Feb., 1852. + It has been published in the Knickerbocker Gallery, 1855. 124 CYCLOPÆDIA OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. over-tedious tale is sometimes invaded by a tion... They were shared in lately by one whose early death has been sincerely mourned by many friends. In the beginning of 1855, the eldest son of Dr. Francis, bearing his father's name, at the early age of twenty-two, on the eve of taking his medical degree with high honor, fell by an attack of typhus fever, to which he had subjected himself in the voluntary charitable exercise of his profession. A memorial, privately printed since his death, contains numerous tributes to his virtues and talents, which gave earnest promise of important services to the public in philanthropy and literature. CHRISTOPHER COLLES. As Colles was an instructive representative of much of that peculiarity in the condition and affairs of New York, at the time in which he may be said to have flourished, I shall trespass a moment, by a brief exhibit of the circumstances which marked the period, in which he was, upon the whole, a promiEverybody seemed to know him; nent character. no one spoke disparagi, gly of him. His enthusiasm, his restlessness, were iamiar to the citizens at large. He, ia sho. t, was a part of our domestic history, a..d an extra word or two may be tolerated, the better to give him his fair proportions. Had I encounterel Colles in any land, I would have been willing to have naturalized him to our soil and institutions. He had virtues, the exercise of which must prove profitable to any people. The biographer of Chaucer has seen fit, inasmuch as his hero was born in London, to give us a history and description of that city at the time of Chaucer's birth, as a suitable introduction to his work. I shall attempt no such task, nor shall I endeavor to make Colles a he. o, much as I de ire to swell his dimensions. I shall circumscribe him to a chap-book; he mig. t be distended to a quarto. Yet the ardent and untiring man was so connected with divers affairs, even after he had domesticated himself among us, that every movement in which he took a part must have had a salutary influence on the masses of those days. He was a lover of nature, and our village city of that time gave him a fair opportunity of recreation among the lordly plane, and elm, and catalpa trees of Wall street, Broadway, Pearl street, and the Bowery. The beautiful groves about Richmond Hill and Lispenard Meadows, and old Vauxhall, mitigated the dulness incident to his continuous toil. A trip to the scattered residences of Brooklyn awakened rural associations; a sail to Communipaw gave him the opportunity of studyi: g marls and the bivalves. That divine principle of celestial origin, religious toleration, seems to have had a strong hold on the people of that day; and the persecuted Priestley, shortly after he reached our shores, held forth in the old Presbyterian Church in Wall street, doubtless favored in a measure by the friendship of old Dr. Rodgers, a convert to Whitefield, and a pupil of Witherspoon. This fact I received from John Pintard. Livingston and Rodgers, Moore and Provoost, supplied the best Christian dietetics his panting desires needed; while in the persons of Bayley and Kissam, and Hosack and Post, he felt secure from the misery of dislocations and fractures, and that alarming pest, the yellow fever. He saw the bar Hoian and Colden, and he dreaded neither the The infantile intellect of those days was enlarged In common There existed in New York, about these times, a war of opinion, which seized even the medical fa culty. The Bastile had been taken. French speculations looked captivating, and Genet's movements won admiration, even with grave men. with others, our schoolmasters partook of the prevailing mania; the tri-colored cockade was worn by numerous schoolboys, as well as by their seniors. The yellow-fever was wasting the population; but the patriotic fervor, either for French or English politics, glowed with ardor. With other boys I united in the enthusiasm. The Cimagnole was heard everywhere. I give a veise of a popular song echoed throughout the streets of our city, and heard at the Belvidere at that period. America that lovely nation, O ce was bound, but now is free; Strains like this of the Columbian bards in those days of party-virulence emancipated the feelings of |