walks of life; is it to be supposed, that those foreign universities could ever have achieved what they have done, with so much honor to themselves, and advantage to the world? And is it to be believed, that institutions abroad, or at home, without any such incentives, may safely rely upon the student's sense of propriety, and his love of knowledge, for the full performance of those toilsome duties which devolve upon him? The notion is utterly futile. It has no foundation in the ample history of man. Ease and enjoyment, not labor and self-denial, are congenial to his nature. Some strong incentive, something over and above a thirst for knowledge, and a sense of propriety, is absolutely necessary to summon the latent energies of his mind to action, and insure that diligence, and that vigorous concentration of effort, which lie at the foundation of all high attainments in literature and science. That necessary incentive is found, as we think, and as we have endeavoured to show, in the proper distribution of college honors and distinctions.

Such, in conclusion, are our views of the important subject which we have ventured to discuss. The principle of emulation, that is, the desire of those benefits and advantages, which naturally belong to superiority in knowledge, virtue, and abilities, is founded in nature; it is justifiable as a rule of action, being recognised and sanctioned by revealed religion, and by the whole course of God's present moral government; it is, for the reasons stated, highly expedient to resort to it, as an incentive to diligence in the discipline and government of colleges. We cannot therefore, but hope, that those, who are charged with the management of our literary institutions, will be slow to abolish a practice, which, based upon the most obvious dictates of reason and common sense, has in all former times done so much to elicit the powers of the youthful mind, and advance the interests of sound learning.

ART. IX.-The Library of American Biography, conducted by JARED SPARKS, Vol. VI. Boston. Hilliard, Gray, & Co. 1836. 16mo.

pp. 358.

THE present volume of the "Library of American Biography" fully sustains the reputation of that very useful and popular work.

It consists of three parts. The first is a brief memoir of that eminent lawyer and orator, William Pinkney of Maryland, by Henry Wheaton, now our Minister Resident in Berlin. Its materials are chiefly drawn, as the author announces in a note, from his larger work, published in 1826, entitled "Some Account of the Life, Writings, and Speeches of William Pinkney," and from an article on that work, in the twenty-fourth volume of our Journal. Having treated the subject of Mr. Pinkney's life and genius at such length before, we have nothing now to say, except that Mr. Wheaton, in the preparation of the present sketch, has manifested his characteristic good sense and good taste, and made a valuable contribution to our means of convenient access to an acquaintance with an illustrious man.

The second part, a Life by Professor Channing of Cambridge, of his grandfather, William Ellery, member of the Continental Congress for Rhode Island, and a signer of the Declaration of Independence, is a truly delightful composition. It actually practises on us the bewildering delusion of making us feel as if we had known the man. No one whom we ever did know, resembles him at all points; but he remains as perfect an idea in our minds, as if it was an idea obtained by personal familiarity, instead of reading. Every trait is individual. Every touch is graphic. The character is that of an upright, true-hearted, unpretending, energetic man; ambitious of no distinctions, but calm, prudent, and resolved in all exigencies; followed by a confidence which the silent influence of desert has won, and not any care to attract regard; and always making the very best of life, for himself and others. This it is, in a general way of description. But the phases, in which these qualities and dispositions are manifested, are all its own, and brought

out in the memoir with such nature and life, that the outline is cut, as if with steel, on the memory. We cannot, of course, follow the writer in this felicitous narration of facts that individualize a character. We must content ourselves with extracting the following beautiful paragraphs on the true dignity of old age.

"It remains to speak of him in his closing years. It may be supposed, that we are entering upon a distinct era, in which, though he may still be recognised, he must yet be materially changed; that his course must be henceforth downward; and that, with the general feeling of tenderness and veneration for the old, we have now only to observe the decay of what we may have admired in its strength. Such an anticipation, with respect to the aged, is so common, as to be thought natural. But, after all that has been written of old age, is its true value, and the character it may and ought to possess, enough considered? Some speak of a man in years as an object of condescending admiration, that he should have lived so long; and he, in turn, may be pleased with this distinction, and even live the longer for it, as if to protract and augment the honor.

"Sometimes, we make old age picturesque, with its wintry snows and reposing apathy. The harvest is ended, the earth is sealed; there is to be no more growth. Or it is a noble pile, time-honored, time-worn, and falling into slow decay. There is to be no more splendor or cheerfulness, no more of life as it has been, within those walls. Or, again, we make old age sentimental. It is passively and gratefully receiving cheerful tendance from the young; it is patiently recounting its experience, and distilling its long-treasured wisdom; and the children are gathered round the bed of the patriarch for his blessing. And are these the best lights and positions in which we may look on those, who are approaching the appointed boundaries of time?

"There is yet another view of age, in which it appears as a highly moral and intellectual state of man. It may be granted that the senses have lost much of their quickness; but the imagination, now freed from distracting excitement, is as able and disposed as ever to shape anew the materials they have supplied, either for its own solace and delight, or for the beautiful expression of thought and emotion. At the very season when mere animal existence is less a blessing, and the animal spirits have almost ceased to excite and sustain, and passion is no longer to stimulate and crave and be fed, the imagination still lives to animate the purely intellectual exercises, to preserve or restore the

early love of natural beauty, to keep the affections warm and old remembrances distinct; and, indeed, to give the mind much of the light and vivacity of youth.

"It is the period of acquisition as well as of contemplation. A long experience of life has not yet furnished all, nor the best, that can be obtained. Reflection shows that much has been falsely valued, and that the methods of pursuit have often been wrong; so that even a little that is seen and meditated upon in the latter day, may be worth more than masses of crude opinions, fancies, and purposes, which occupied the supposed vigor of life. The mind was often stationary then, from the all-surrounding pressure of outward things, which seemed to make it intensely active, because they wholly engrossed it; but now it may be truly said to be advancing by a power from within. The effort is not merely to keep what has been purchased, and not to recede from a point that has been gained. Life is better even now than a mere resistance of evils. The future is entered upon as offering higher studies, and as a corrector of the past, and with a religious feeling of the importance of the days that remain, as closebordering on the endless pursuits of another state of action. The temper is softened and spiritualized. Active engagements are still pursued for the good of others, when the motives of self have become feeble. Intimacy with the young is cherished from sympathy with their exuberant spirits, and from a desire to be strengthened by their fresh-growing thoughts, and from a prophetic interest in the life that is before them; an intimacy of perfect equality, except that the aged bend to the young, and give more than they receive. Add to such considerations as these, the blessing of a good nervous system, and health scarcely interrupted or impaired to the end, and some idea may be formed of Mr. Ellery in his closing years."- pp. 130 – 133.

The third memoir is of Cotton Mather, a personage entitled to a place in Mr. Sparks's American Biography, by several distinct and acknowledged claims. His early reputation, and the prominent part he took in the ecclesiastical affairs of New England; the great and long-continued consideration which he enjoyed with the people at large; his literary attainments and unquestionable ability of a certain kind; the contributions he made to the materials of our early history, ample at least, if not so exact as might be desired; and last, though not least, his grievous errors of conduct, on several important occasions, give him an undoubted em

inence above most of his contemporaries, and make him one of the most remarkable characters that belong to the early period of New England. But, though his name is familiar to every mouth, the materials of a full account of his life, are unfortunately scanty. They are sufficient, however, to give a tolerably accurate idea of his course as a public man, and of some leading qualities of his character in private. His public career is so closely connected with the history of the times, that it may be pretty well understood, and his own diaries, divulging his more private course of thought and action, are characteristic in the highest degree. We are glad that the task of collecting these materials, and illustrating Mather's life, has fallen into hands so well able to discharge the duty. Mr. Peabody has clearly used the utmost industry in bringing together all existing information pertaining to his subject. He has woven, from these scattered materials, an exceedingly graceful and lively narration. The current has been lately setting pretty strongly against the reputation of this famous divine; and possibly there has been a general disposition to underrate both his abilities and his moral excellence. Mr. Peabody is a more indulgent judge; and, while he passes a deserved censure upon Mather's bigotry and vanity, and reprobates severely his conduct during the Salem delusion, he is equally solicitous to exhibit the fairer features, that, in his view, marked the man. That he has rightly struck the balance between foibles, faults, and virtues, is more than we would venture to affirm; for, undoubtedly, Mather was one of the oddest men," that ever lived in the tide of times." But his only aim has evidently been to ascertain the exact truth, and state it in the most clear and simple form. The story is told with great beauty of style. It is pleasant, polished, and animated, and occasionally diversified by touches of delightful humor. The narration is interspersed with extracts from the writings of Mather and others, skilfully selected, and tastefully introduced; and the reader's interest never flags, for the writer's spirit never fails.

Cotton Mather was born in Boston, Feb. 12th, 1662-3. His mother was the daughter of John Cotton, a man of the first celebrity in his day. He manifested early in life, a passion for books, and was educated at the free school in