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country, whose citizens are dealing with our own, keeping the paddles of steamboat's wheels in the

and exerting a constant and powerful influence, vertical position. It struck him as being a good which must be understood if it is to be of its pro- one; and he spent considerable time in making per advantage. You also want, in the libraries of calculations, drawings, etc. When he ventured to your different Legislatures, all the public documents the city, he went to a dozen libraries, and at last of Europe;-you will legislate in the dark if you found a volume of the London Mechanics' Magado not have them;-you cannot adapt your course zine, in which his contrivance was shown to have to theirs, but will lose the advantage of knowing been patented ten years before, and used with some what they are about, and neither benefit by the advantage on the Danube. Not long after, my good will of your friends, nor defeat the selfish friend was conversing with the Captain of a steampolicy of those who seek to benefit by your inat-boat, and mentioned this invention; whereupon the tention. You can furnish us with specimens in every branch of natural history: the block of granite, to you of no value, may be broken, and a piece sent to every museum in Europe. If it be exactly like our own, we wish to know it; if it be different, we wish to know it; in any case it is interesting, and we must have it, even if we send across the ocean to search for it. Your birds, your animals, your plants, we want them all; and you want ours. Your works of art, your machines, your buildings, farmers' tools, and craftsmens' tools-we want models or drawings of them; and in return we can send you quite as much;-if more, it will please us the better, for we wish to deal like gentlemenlike friends and brothers--and not like mercenaries. You will send us an alligator, a fossil skeleton, a drawing of a Western burial mound; and we will send you a cast of the Apollo, or whatever we have that you are in need of."

Captain told him that he had been asked to purchase stock in it. "You have seen it then; how does it work?" said my friend. "It works very well in the model; but whether it will keep in order at sea, or be on the whole better than the common wheel, I doubt." "But has it not been tried on a large scale ?" inquired my friend. "No!" said the Captain, "the inventor can't make 'em take hold. He has spent several hundred dollars, and a great deal of time; but I am afraid he will not get paid for it, though I confess I think well of it, for smooth water. But you seem to be interested in the matter: suppose you call on him, when we get on shore? Perhaps you may buy some of his stock." My friend did call on him, and found the same invention, exhibited in a beautiful brass model;-all of no use, except as a philosophic toy. A few weeks after, he found another ingenious man who had invented the same thing, and spent several These brief hints, to the man who thinks about weeks in experimenting; but who had given it up, as it, will indicate how efficiently the system of ex-not likely to work better than the old one. About one changes will contribute to the completeness of pub-year ago, the papers informed us that another palic museums, libraries, etc. Cui bono? Does an tent for this same invention had been obtained in American, a democrat, a man who claims the right England, and introduced in a large vessel, which to participate in the control of a nation's affairs, to would come across the ocean in a week. Το assist in ruling it—does he ask this question? Aye! crown the joke, Professor Renwick, in his new it should be so! But does he ask it respectfully, to treatise on the steam-engine, mentions that this learn all the merits of the case; or contemptuously, contrivance was tried twenty years ago, on a ferryto signify that he sees no good in it, and therefore boat, between New-York and Jersey City. Now refers it to the class of schemes, and with a block- all this waste of time, of thought, of money spent head's logic, reasons thus :-most schemes are for patents and experiments, might have been saved, humbugs: this is a scheme; therefore this is a and probably would have been saved, had there humbug? We have persons of such intellectual been public museums to which these men had free calibre, to whom the proper admonition, sufficiently access, in which drawings and models of machirespectful, is this: you are not freemen, in the nery, and any thing like a complete collection of mental sense; you are still under the dominion of the scientific books of the time, were to be found. vulgar prejudices, of old fashions and customs; and But if expensive and useless repetitions would are liable to be used as mere tools, when you are be avoided, still more benefit would be conferred, thought worth managing! But for the purpose of by showing these ingenious but unlearned men contributing, in a slight degree, to the knowledge what had been done before, which they might every sensible man possesses on this subject, I will take the familiar instance of a mechanical inventor, and show what benefit he may derive from such an institution when it is complete.

I happen to know a case that will illustrate the matter, which I will state precisely as it occurred.

adopt, use, and improve upon; what parts invented, tested, proportioned, which they might combine in different ways, for different uses, and from which they might construct machines that otherwise they would not think of.

It would likewise be useful in the common wants A friend of mine who was spending the Summer of life. If a man, rich or poor, wishes to build a in the country, away from all libraries of a scien- house, a shop, a barn, or construct a mill, carriage, tific character, happened to think of a mode of or any thing else, let him go to the public museum;

he will find there prints, drawings, models, old and I said, 'my work will be very difficult. The dinew, of every style of building in the world; of rectors of the European institutions will not be alnew designs, not yet adopted; and from these he lowed to recognize these private establishments, will select what best suits him; but now he must which may be sold at auction next year for the be content to take what he sees around him, how-benefit of their creditors.'

ever inferior to what he might find in a neighbor- Not daunted by these circumstances; for he is ing city; because neither he nor his ignorant a brave man I know not how bullets might affect builder nor quack architect has had the means to know what has been done in the world. In short, whatever a man wishes to know, whatever he wishes to see, he should be able to find in a public museum. Every branch of art, science and literature, and every thing in the world that is worth knowing, should be represented in it; from the highest conceptions in poetry, painting, sculpture and architecture, to the humblest convenience of the household; from the grandest phenomena of the earth and heavens, to the plants of the garden and the minerals by the road-side. Had we such places as these in our cities, and even in our villages, would our money be thrown away on the rude contrivances of other centuries, when science yearly brings forth new ones of greater use and economy? or would our inquiring intellects be wrapped up in mammoth newspapers, which cloy with literary slops, that thirst for knowledge which the poor man now has no means of satisfying in any other way-nay, which the richest man among us can but meagerly supply?

him, but difficulties cannot frighten him; the langh of vulgar mercenaries cannot make him truckle; the certainty of hardship cannot smother his courage:-not daunted, I say, by the task before him, nor discouraged by the loud and general cry, 'impossible! impossible! the man's a fool! he's mad! what will he make by it? Mons. Vattemére went to Washington, and showed his plan to the Government. It is worthy of especial notice that every member of the Cabinet and of Congress, from the President to the last representative, gave his approbation of the plan, in writing, to Mons. Vattemére. But the constitutional limits of the Federal Government obliged it to refer him to the State and Municipal Governments, as the only powers that could aid in the great work he was engaged in. He accordingly applied to them, and in some cases with success. Louisiana has appropriated a constant sum of six thousand dollars per annum; Maine has entertained the proposition very favorably; Boston and Baltimore have bestirred themselves; and in various other parts of this country he has met with more or less success-I know not how much: but in Quebec and Montreal he has produced a movement highly honorable to those cities, fifty thousand pounds each having been appropriated for public museums, on the plan suggested by him.

But from the benefits of this system we are nearly excluded; because we have no public museums, and no public libraries save those belonging to Congress and the State Legislatures, and perhaps those of one or two Universities, which may in some parts be so well known as to be admitted to the rank and privilege of public institutions. For all these important services he has neither Mons. Vattemére, rather satirically, expressed his asked nor accepted any other reward than the pleadisappointment at finding us so deficient. "I had sure of doing good, and the esteem and good wishes been told," said he, "that you had public museums, which his singular zeal for the interest of science public libraries, every thing of the kind, in great and of mankind has not failed to gain for him. A abundance." "Well,' I said, 'my work will be gentleman who well knows his ability in science, easy! we can soon establish communication with and in a certain kind of dramatic performance, told those of Europe.' When I got on shore, I ran me that he could easily make twenty thousand dolto the public museum; but as I was entering, a lars per annum; but that he exercised these talents person stopped me and asked for two shillings. only so far as was necessary to supply his actual 'What,' I asked myself, do they permit their wants, preferring to advocate his favorite system, servants to beg for money? the museums of Eu- without pay, rather than fill his pockets, and let the rope forbid theirs to accept it when offered.' Well, world take care of itself. If the vulgar man of I went on, and saw many choice things, and many dollars, prudent, provident, respectable and all that, loads of mere rubbish, jumbled together without the will say that the love of notoriety is the spring of least appearance of scientific arrangement; and all this action; if, to bring his own character up to what was my surprise to find a juggler and a learned 'par,' he will cloud, with his low suspicions and pig. But when I discovered, as I soon did, that possible conjectures, the conduct of a man whom what you call a public museum is merely a place he should honor and imitate, let him be told that even where the public may be admitted for pay; and the desire of vulgar popularity is more becoming that the most respectable of your libraries and a man, than the number-one principle is, which scientific institutions are accessible only to mem- moves to no action that possibly can be looked on bers, who pay considerable money, and to those as generous. Mons. Vattemére believes these great whom the members introduce, I understood my schemes improbable in the general estimation would mistake, but was only the more surprised. 'Well,' benefit the people if adopted: he boldly proposes

them, advocates them; and herein he differs from birth, removed to the town of Simsbury, in the those mean men, much meaner than cowards, who same state; and here the subject of our sketch will not encounter the derision of blackguards, and passed the chief part of his life. He evinced at the qualified respect of pocket-noblemen, no matter an early age, an unusual fondness for study, and what the merits of the case may be if the pro- began to develope a mind of superior ability. Cirposed measures seem unlikely to be carried. cumstances, however, seemed to forbid his attain

vantages he could derive from an attendance upon the common schools, he was removed to the Grammar school at Hartford—one of the oldest, and probably the best of the preparatory schools in the

He has returned to France. But the sugges-ing a liberal education. After reaping all the adtions he has thrown out, the success he has in some places met with, the almost unanimous wish in favor of the bold measures he recommends, these are not to be lost; they make some rather restless; they set some in doubt of the old maxim, "nothing state. Here he remained for some time, and apliberal can be got from the rabble."

THE FATE OF THE GIFTED.

No. III., AND LAST.

plied himself assiduously to the usual course of a thorough" English education," as also to the study of the Latin language. With his departure from this institution, closed the most of his academic studies. He had long before imbibed a strong taste for reading, and general literary pursuits. This he had cultivated to as great an extent as The reader may perhaps remember two articles his other studies would permit; and he now gave under the above title, which appeared in the Mes- his entire leisure to an attentive perusal of the senger more than two years since. The first one standard English authors, as well as to the literature was devoted to the life and writings of CHESTER of our own country. Poetry was his chief delight; A. GRISWOLD-the second one, to the late JAMES though the modesty of his genius for a long time OTIS ROCKWELL. When those articles were pre-kept the fact in concealment; circumstances at pared, there was one with us-a loved and valued length declared him to be an a not unwelcomed friend-who felt a kindly interest in our humble worshipper at the shrine of the Muses. toil. He was anxious that the memory of genius, We have before remarked that the greater part untimely removed, should be embalmed in the hearts of our author's life was passed in the town of Simsof the living. For our second article-that which bury. Soon after he closed his academic studies, commemorated ROCKWELL-he lent us his ser- and while he was anxious to enter upon the stuvice, by procuring some facts which otherwise had dies of a profession, he began to suffer from an inbeen overlooked and lost. Alas! how little did flammation of the eyes. This entirely defeated we then think that the third number of our series his plans. It gave a character to his whole would be devoted to the memory of him whose eye after-life, and in some measure, we fear, caused his then kindled with approval at our work. But death premature death. Baffled in his pursuit of a prohas found him. He has fallen in the morning of fession, he attempted other occupations which seemhis days; and another flower of genius, which had ed not to clash with his bodily affliction, in the but just unfolded, has been transplanted to the gar-hope that time would restore the use of his eyes dens of God! With a heavy heart, therefore, do again, and yet suffer him to attain the object of his we come to lay our simple chaplet upon the early wishes. He remained a twelve month in Hartford, tomb of RICHARD BACON, Jr. and nearly two years in New York, engaged in

We have chosen the subject of our present mercantile pursuits. But his difficulties seemed sketch, not so much for a biographical memoir, as rather to be increased than removed thereby; and, to confer a merited tribute to the memory of one disappointed, and sick at heart, he returned to the well beloved. He was of those who feel the stir-quiet of his paternal mansion. Here his literary rings of an ambitious and richly endowed spirit pursuits were renewed with redoubled vigor. When within them, but to whom it is not permitted to his own failing sight could not minister to his deenter the ranks of those who wage a warfare for sires, his kind sisters would engage his leisure by renown. He listened to the clarion call of reading to him, and assisting to write out and copy Fame, and he pined in spirit for the contest. But the productions of his own fancy.

a strong hand held him back; and his only record
is with

"Those, the young and brave, who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,
By the road-side fell and perished,

Weary with the march of Life!"

Richard Bacon, Jr., was born at Northington (a small parish of Farmington,) now Avon, in the state of Connecticut. His family, soon after his

VOL. VII-99

It was at this period of his life that we became personally acquainted with Bacon. He gave us his entire confidence, and a friendship was formed which grew stronger to the day of his death. We never met with a warmer heart, nor a hand which pressed a more cordial welcome. We soon saw that his affliction was a trial hard indeed to bear. He heard the strife of the great world around him, while he was compelled to be an unwilling lin

gerer from its busy scenes. Still, he did not com-scheme planned for his future course, which seemplain. Though it was painfully evident that his ed very unreasonable, and from which we endeamind was not fully in unison with the quietude of his vored to dissuade him. There was a mystery about situation, yet Hope cheered him with her whisper- him. Something weighed like lead upon his spiings of brighter days to come. Beside, he found rits; but we thought it a morbid mood which would many ingredients of happiness in his cup. Of a pass away. We urged him to return home, but warm and social disposition-he was surrounded apparently in vain. He seemed bent on his wild by a family which he loved: a devotee of Litera- enterprise, and bade us adieu with the design of ture-time and opportunity enabled him to indulge engaging in it. Little thought we that his melanin his favorite pursuits, though under some dis- choly assertion was true! Little thought we that couragements it is true: a child of Nature-he his warm hand would soon be cold in death, and could rove at will amid her most wild and enchant- his warm heart be still beneath the clods of the ing scenes. As our acquaintance ripened to inti- valley! His hearty "God bless you!" lingered in macy, we found as much to admire in his poetical our ears, and we felt that we were parting with taste and talents, as we had already found to love our best and truest friend. A few days went by, in his social temperament and virtues. His chief and we were again surprised by the reception of a fault as a poet-and it is a common one with young letter from Bacon, dated at his home, in Simsbury. writers-was a redundancy of Fancy. Against It was brief and hurried, and some part of it was this-for he soon became sensible of it-he was entirely unintelligible. We attributed such part very careful to guard. He composed with enthu- however to a merry mood, rather than to any more siasm, and then in cooler moments gave himself serious cause. We gathered from it that the to the task of severe revision. He would write matter which had weighed so heavily upon his spiand re-write a piece with great care, and even rits, when we had last seen him, was satisfactorily then seemed loth to part with it. He published removed, and all was well with him. We wonder but little. He shrunk instinctively from notoriety, now at our blindness. The very assurance he and when he did publish, he gave no clue to the gave of the removal of his difficulty, so singular authorship of his pieces. We doubt if he ever were many circumstances connected with it, should published too articles over the same signature. have given us alarm. But we were satisfied, and Consequently, to the great public he was unknown. the epistle was laid aside to await the leisure of a Beyond the circle of his own personal friends, future day. Bacon was not recognized as a poet. Yet his was a genius of no common order, and we confi-rious causes conspired to make us for a time negdently looked forward to the day when his name lectful of our distant friends. At length, our negwould hold a proud place among the talented ones lected duty was undertaken. It was New-Year'sof our country, and that day a no far distant one. and our thoughts were busy with Bacon. He had Who that then knew him could have thought that not been forgotten, though for a time neglected. that voice would so soon be tuneless, and that mind Ere the holidays had gone we determined to greet so soon have its full development in a better world. him with a hearty remembrance. Alas! we recked During our collegiate days, we were separated not of the trial in store for us! Before those holibut a short distance from our friend. Scarcely a days were ended, and while our heart was revelling week went by without bringing him to our lodg-in the past, and memory was busy with its scenes ings, or taking ourself to his own "happy val- so dear, and with him, the dearest object of those ley." Those winged hours of social converse, scenes-we received an unwelcome letter from the and those rambles over hill and dale, are, and ever father of our friend. Bacon was no more! He will be, among the greenest spots in the waste of whom we loved with more than a brother's love, memory. But time separated us. Business at was slumbering unconscious of our sorrow! Never last called him away on a distant tour; and, soon sunk our heart as at these sad tidings; and we after we had left college, our face was turned wept like a broken-hearted child! southward. While waiting in New-York the sail- Poor Bacon! There was too much truth in his ing-day of our packet, we were agreeably sur-mournful assertion. He was indeed deranged! prised by meeting unexpectedly with our old friend It might be, as he stated in his letter before alluded again. We had thought him many an hundred to-probably the last he wrote-that the cause of miles away, and the meeting was consequently his mental difficulty, whatever it might be, was rethe more cheering. After a hurried conversation moved. But it had done a fearful work, and its upon topics of mutual interest, he abruptly ex-effects were fatal. His family had hoped that pressed a fear" that he was becoming deranged!" repose and quiet would restore him. But each It seemed a strange assertion, and we gave no succeeding day only increased his malady. His heed to it. We wonder now that our own fears noble mind was unhinged-his Fancy ranged with were not excited for there certainly was much frantic wildness-and the sands of Life hastened that was unusual in his manner, and he had a wild to their last. His mental sufferings were intense;

When we reached our place of destination, va

and his imagination,-too skilfully cultivated!- some of these have already appeared in print, (and became his tormentor.

"Then the haunting visions rose,

Spectres round his spirit's throne:

Poet! what can paint thy woes,

But a pencil like thine own!"

one was published in the pages of the Messenger,) the reader may recognize some of them as familiar. He will not however deem it an objection to meet them again. They will richly repay a re-perusal. The greater part of the articles, however, have He had conceived the plan of a majestic poem, never before appeared in print. We shall not enwhich he never executed, entitled "THE DEATH-deavor to arrange them in the order of their merit, but select them at random. The first with which we present the reader is a simple and touching description of a pleasant scene in domestic life:

66

BED OF HOPE," and now he spoke of it with feelings of agony. "Strange!" he would exclaim; was it not strange, I should have thought of that subject? Now I see it all: I am without hope!"

66

Thus did he suffer, and thus did his malady increase, that in a few weeks his family deemed it advisable to remove him to the "Insane Retreat," at Hartford. Poor Bacon! what sufferings were thine! Unconscious of the Past—yet conscious of the madness which was destroying thee! But his sufferings were not long protracted. On the 29th Dec., 1838, not three weeks from the day of his admission to the Institution, his spirit passed gently and composedly away-and in full possession of its former powers-we may trust, to an everlasting rest. His remains were brought back to Simsbury; and on the 1st of Jan. 1839, amid the scenes of his pleasant boyhood, attended by a weeping throng of friends and kindred," he made his cold bed with the grave of the year!"

Thus perished, at the age of twenty-four, one of the noblest hearts that ever went down to death in the pride of manhood. Our own feelings it were vain to describe. All other griefs which we had known seemed trifling in comparison with this. "We had lived and loved together

Through many changing years:"

and now that our friend was snatched away, and in so mournful a manner-dwelling in the dreary loneliness of a maniac's habitation-unable fully to realize the rich blessings of his fond parents' sympathy, and his brothers' and sisters' sorrowand thus, by the peculiar sadness of his disease, dying, as it were, alone, in solitary anguish,-it was hard, hard indeed to bear! The burden of our grief was like the boy's sorrow for his first play

mate

Oh call my brother back to me--I cannot play alone!" But vain is grief, for the dead will come no more. If they have run their course well on earth, it is well they should not return. For them henceforth there is eternal rest--for us, the memory of their pilgrimage to incite us to duty. Oh it is a happy thought, that if we live aright, we shall meet the loved and lost in a better land, where the blessed inhabitants never sorrow-never say farewell!

A pleasant though mournful duty devolves upon us-that of doing justice to the literary merit of our friend. We have obtained possession of all the articles which were written by Bacon. As

THE YOUNG MOTHER.

Mark yonder scene! a cheruh boy,
With lisping shout and frolic glee,
Which well betoken childhood's joy,
Is climbing to his mother's knee.
And radiant is that mother's face
With all the charms which beauty lends;
And hers the form of seraph grace,
Which o'er the sculptor's slumber bends.
And smiles are o'er her beauty stealing,
Irradiate with the light of thought,
Unuttered tones, yet well revealing

The love with which her heart is fraught.
The roguish boy! his sportive hands
Have torn the roses from her hair,
And loosed her tresses from their bands
Upon a bosom snowy fair!

And she has only pressed a kiss
Of burning fervor on his brow,
As if she felt too much of bliss

To give one word of chiding now!

Oh, if thine heart be weighed with sadness,
Which makes the spirit pine to go,
Then gaze upon this scene of gladness,

And learn that there is bliss below.

The next we select is the "Mountain Brook." We have traced the stream which we suppose gave

occasion to the lay, in company with the minstrel,
to its very source. It is a wild, picturesque brook,
which descends through a ravine in a mountain
that forms the eastern boundary of the valley
where Bacon made his home. The description is
in excellent keeping with the scene.
The "river"
alluded to is "The Farmington," which winds
gracefully through the valley:

THE MOUNTAIN BROOK.
Hail beautiful brook! thou truant child,
Dancing along with a step so wild,
And voice breaking forth in shout and glee,
As if warbling fairies rose from thee.
Say, why dost thou turn from thy home away?

And whither, O wanderer, dost thou stray?
Have the birds told thee of their southern home,
To lure thee from thine own to roam,—
Where their nests are rocked by the balmy breeze,
Which sighs through the leaves of the cinnamon trees?
Or dost thou list to some mermaid's call
To come to her in her ocean hall,
And wake thy strains in the coral bowers,
To lull her to rest in her weary hours?

In my boyish days I have loved to stray
Among thy hills on a summer day,

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