"I was looking at certain objects about the yard and house in connection with which I had studied the speech the evening before."
"Yes; but you certainly can repeat some portion of it to me?"
"Not one sentence connectedly; it has all passed from my mind like a shadow on the wall."
Yet she was a girl of good judgment, read much, talked well, and possessed in an eminent degree the indispensable requisite of a good memory--power of attention.
ROBERT J. BRECKINRIDGE
Robert Jefferson Breckinridge, LL.D., one of Kentucky's most prolific writers for the public prints, was born at Cabell's Dale, near Lexington, Kentucky, March 8, 1800. He was the son of John Breckinridge, President Jefferson's Attorney-General. He studied at Princeton and Yale, and was graduated from Union College in 1819.
Breckinridge then read law and was admitted to the Lexington, Kentucky, bar in 1823. He practiced law for eight years, during part of which time he was a member of the Kentucky legislature. Realizing that Kentucky would oppose the emancipation of the slaves, in which he heartily believed, Breckinridge decided to quit the law and politics for the church. He studied theology and became pastor of the Second Presbyterian church in Baltimore, which pastorate he held for thirteen years. In 1845 Dr. Breckinridge was elected president of Jefferson College (now Washington and Jefferson College), at Washington, Pennsylvania, but two years later he resigned the presidency of the college in order to accept the pastorate of the First Presbyterian church of Lexington, Kentucky. In 1848 Dr. Breckinridge was elected superintendent of public instruction of Kentucky; and in 1853 he became professor of theology in the Danville Theological Seminary, which position he held until his death. He was chairman of the Baltimore national convention of 1864 which nominated Abraham Lincoln for the presidency. Dr. Breckinridge's writings include _Travels in France, Germany_, etc. (Philadelphia, 1839); _Popery in the XIX.
Century in the United States_ (1841); _Memoranda of Foreign Travel_ (Baltimore, 1845); _The Internal Evidence of Christianity_ (1852); _The Knowledge of God Objectively Considered_ (New York, 1858); and _The Knowledge of God Subjectively Considered_ (New York, 1859). These two last named works, of enormous proportions, are Dr. Breckinridge's greatest theological and literary productions. He also published _Kentucky School Reports_ (1848-1853). While a resident of Baltimore he was one of the editors of _The Literary and Religious Magazine_, and of its successor, _The Spirit of the Nineteenth Century_, in both of which publications he carried on many bitter and never-ending discussions with the Roman Catholics concerning theological and historical questions. He was also editor of _The Danville Quarterly Review_ for several years. A complete collection of Dr. Breckinridge's books, debates, articles, and pamphlets, upon slavery, temperance, Popery, Universalism, Presbyterianism, education, agriculture, and politics, would form a five-foot shelf of books.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. _History of Kentucky_, by R. H. Collins (Covington, Kentucky, 1882); Appletons' _Cyclopaedia of American Biography_ (New York, 1887, v. i).
SANCTIFICATION
[From _The Knowledge of God Subjectively Considered_ (New York, 1859)]
The completeness of the Plan of Salvation seems to be absolute. The adaptedness of all its parts to each other, and to their own special end--and the adaptedness of the whole and of every part, to the great end of all, the eradication of sin and misery; exhibits a subject, the greatest, the most intricate, and the most remote of all in a manner so precise and clear; that the sacred Scriptures, even if they had no grace and no mercy to offer to us personally, might justly challenge the very highest place as the most stupendous monument of sublime and successful thought. What then ought we to think of them, when all this glorious intelligence is merely tributary to our salvation? The end of this infinite completeness, only to pour into our polluted and thoughtless hearts, inexhaustible supplies of grace--that we may be extricated from a condition utterly hopeless without that grace ... and be brought to a condition unspeakably blessed to us and glorious to God? Yet this is the overwhelming conclusion to which every just consideration of them forces us to come; the conclusion to which the imperfect disclosure which has now been attempted, of a single point in this divine system, wholly compels us. In this deep conviction, therefore, and as the conclusion of all that has now been advanced, I venture to define, that Sanctification is a benefit of the Covenant of Redemption--being a work of grace, on the part of the triune God, wherein the elect who have been Effectually Galled, Regenerated, Justified, and Adopted, are, through the virtue of the death and resurrection of Christ, by the indwelling of the Word and Spirit, through the use of the divine ordinances, and by the power of God with them, enabled more and more to die unto sin, to be renewed in the spirit of their mind, and to live unto righteousness, in an increasing conformity to the image of God, to his great Glory, and their growth in holiness.
CAROLINE L. HENTZ
Mrs. Caroline Lee Hentz, novelist, was born at Lancaster, Massachusetts, June 1, 1800. When twenty-four years of age she was married to N. M. Hentz, a Frenchman, then associated with George Bancroft in conducting the Round Hill School at Northampton, Massachusetts. Two years after her marriage her husband was elected to the chair of modern languages in the University of North Carolina, and this position he held until 1830, when he removed to Covington, Kentucky, where he and his wife conducted a private school. Covington was the birthplace of Mrs. Hentz's first literary work. The directors of the Arch Street theatre, Philadelphia, had offered a prize of five hundred dollars for the best original tragedy founded on the conquest of the Moors in Spain, and Mrs. Hentz submitted _De Lara, or, the Moorish Bride_, which was awarded first place, but the prize was never paid the author. _De Lara_ was later published and successfully produced on the stage. This encouraged Mrs. Hentz to write another tragedy, entitled _Lamorah, or, the Western Wild_, a tragedy of Indian life, which was staged in Cincinnati and published at Columbus, Georgia. Her _Constance of Werdenberg_ was written at Covington. After two years at Covington, Mrs. Hentz crossed the Ohio river and opened a school at Cincinnati. Her novel, _Lovell's Folly_, was written there.
In 1834 she removed to Alabama, and this State was her home for the subsequent fourteen years. Her first widely successful novel, _Aunt Patty's Scrap-Bag_ (Philadelphia, 1846) was followed by her generally accepted masterpiece, _Linda, or, the Young Pilot of the Belle Creole_ (1850). Now came in rapid succession her other works: _Rena, or, the Snow Bird_ (1851); _Marcus Warland_ (1852); _Eoline_; _Wild Jack_; _Helen and Arthur_; _Ugly Effie_; _The Planter's Northern Bride_ (1854); _Love after Marriage_ (1854); _The Banished Son; Robert Graham_ (1856); and _Ernest Lynwood_ (1856), her last book and by some critics regarded as her best. Mrs. Hentz began her literary work in Kentucky, as indicated above, and, though the claim of Kentucky is rather slender upon her it is, nevertheless, legitimate. She died at Marianna, Florida, February 11, 1856.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. Appletons' _Cyclopaedia of American Biography_ (New York, 1888, v. iii); _Library of Southern Literature_ (Atlanta, Georgia, 1909, v. vi).
BESIDE THE LONG MOSS SPRING
[From _Marcus Warland_ (1852)]
Marcus sat beside the Long Moss Spring, the morning sun-beams glancing through the broad leaves of the magnolia and the brilliant foliage of the holly, and playing on his golden hair. He held in his hand a fishing-rod, whose long line floated on the water; and though his eye was fixed on the buoyant cork, there was no hope or excitement in its gaze. His face was pale and wore a severe expression, very different from the usual joyousness and thoughtlessness of childhood. Even when the silvery trout and shining perch, lured by the bait, hung quivering on the hook, and were thrown, fluttering like wounded birds through the air, to fall panting, then pulseless, at his side, he showed no consciousness of success, no elation at the number of his scaly victims. Tears, even, large and slowly gathering tears, rolled gradually and reluctantly down his fair oval cheeks; they were not like the sudden, drenching shower, that leaves the air purer and the sky bluer, but the drops that issue from the wounded bark formed of the life-blood of the tree.
Beautiful was the spot where the boy sat, and beautiful the vernal morning that awakened Nature to the joy and the beauty of youth. The fountain, over whose basin he was leaning, was one of those clear, deep, pellucid springs, that gush up in the green wilds of southern Georgia, forming a feature of such exquisite loveliness in the landscape, that the traveler pauses on the margin, feeling as if he had found one of those enchanted springs of which we read in fairy land, whose waters are too bright, too pure, too serene for earth.
The stone which formed the basin of the fountain was smooth and calcareous, hollowed out by the friction of the waters, and gleaming white and cold through their diaphanous drapery. In the centre of this basin, where the spring gushed in all its depth and strength, it was so dark it looked like an opaque body, impervious to the eye, whence it flowed over the edge of its rocky receptacle in a full, rejoicing current, sweeping over its mossy bed, and bearing its sounding tribute to the Chattahoochee, "rolling rapidly." The mossy bed to which we have alluded was not the verdant velvet that covers with a short, curling nap the ancient rock and the gray old tree, but long, slender, emerald-green plumes, waving under the water, and assuming through its mirror a tinge of deep and irradiant blue. Nothing can be imagined more rich and graceful than this carpet for the fountain's silvery tread, and which seems to bend beneath it, as the light spray rustling in the breeze. The golden water-lily gleamed up through the crystal, and floated along the margin on its long and undulating stems.
JOHN P. DURBIN
John Price Durbin, Seventh President of Dickinson College, was born near Paris, Kentucky, October 10, 1800. He was apprenticed to a cabinet-maker in Paris, and the meager wages he received were invested in books. In 1819 Durbin became a Methodist circuit-rider. He afterwards studied at Miami University, Oxford, Ohio, and was graduated from Cincinnati College in 1825. In the fall of that year he became professor of languages in Augusta College, Augusta, Kentucky, and he occupied the chair until 1831, when he was elected chaplain of the United States Senate. In the next year Dr. Durbin was elected professor of natural sciences in Wesleyan University, Middletown, Connecticut, He remained at Wesleyan but one year, when he was chosen editor of the New York _Christian Advocate and Journal_. In 1834 Editor Durbin became President Durbin of Dickinson College, Carlisle, Pennsylvania. He is regarded as the greatest head the college has ever known. During vacations Dr. Durbin traveled extensively in Europe and the Orient, and these journeys are best preserved in his books. In the 1844 General Conference of the Methodist church he was in the thickest of the great fight over the slavery question; and in the following year he resigned as president of Dickinson, after more than ten years of distinguished success in the management of the ancient college. He now returned to the active pastorate, taking charge of the Union Methodist church in Philadelphia. From 1850 to 1872 Dr. Durbin was secretary of the Methodist Missionary Society, in the interest of which he visited Europe in 1867. He raised many millions of dollars for foreign missions while he was in charge of the society. He was the founder of foreign missions in Bulgaria. Dr. Durbin was an eloquent and persuasive preacher, an able administrator, and during the latter years of his life he wielded a wonderful influence in the Methodist church. He died at New York City, October 17, 1876. His works include _Observations in Europe_ (New York, 1844, 2 vols.); _Observations in Egypt, Palestine, Syria, and Asia Minor_ (New York, 1845, 2 vols.); and he edited the American edition of Wood's _Mosaic History of the Creation_ (New York, 1831). Dr. Durbin was a rather prolific contributor to religious and secular periodicals. His _Observations in Europe_ is the best literary work he did.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. _History of Kentucky_, by R. H. Collins (Covington, Kentucky, 1882); Appletons' _Cyclopaedia of American Biography_ (New York, 1888, v. ii).
IMPRESSIONS OF LONDON
[From _Observations in Europe_ (New York, 1844, v. ii)]
The first impression of London is usually wonder at its _immensity_. I received this impression in its full force, as the reader will have already perceived, in coming up the Thames. Nor did it diminish in the course of my rambles through the great metropolis, subsequently. When the stranger first leaves the river, and plunges into the thronged streets, he absolutely becomes dizzy in the whirl of busy life around him. Men sweep by him in _masses_; at times the way seems wedged with them: wagons, carts, omnibuses, hacks, and coaches block up the avenues, and make it quite an enterprise to cross them. Every day my amazement increased at the extent, the activity, the wealth of London. The impression was totally different from that of Paris. The French capital strikes you as the seat of human enjoyment. You find the art of life, so far as mere physical good is concerned, in perfection there. No wish need be ungratified. Your taste may be gratified with the finest music, the most fascinating spectacles, the most splendid works of art in the world. You may eat and drink when and where you please; in half an hour, almost any delicacy that earth has produced or art invented is set before you. You may spend days and weeks in visiting her museums, her hospitals, her gardens, her cemeteries, her libraries, her palaces, and yet remain unsatisfied. In London everything is different. Men are active, but it is in pursuit of wealth. In general they do not seem to enjoy life. The arts are cultivated to a small extent by a small class of society; the mass seem hardly to know that arts exist. No splendid collections are open, without fee or reward, to the public, or to you.
You can purchase gratification, but of a lower order than in Paris, and at a higher price. Except a few _lions_--the Docks, the Tunnel, Westminster Abbey, _&c._--nearly everything that the city has to show to a stranger can be seen as you ride along the streets. When you leave Paris you have just begun to enjoy it, and desire to return again; you leave London convinced, indeed, of its vastness and wealth, but tired of gazing at dingy buildings and thronged streets, and are satisfied without another visit. Such, at least, were my own impressions. Apart from private friendships and professional interests, I have no care to see London again.
FORTUNATUS COSBY, Jr.
Fortunatus Cosby, Junior, poet and editor, the son of a distinguished lawyer, was born near Louisville, Kentucky, May 2, 1801. He was educated at Yale and Transylvania, then studied law, but, like so many literary men have done, never practiced. Cosby was a passionate lover of books, and most of his life was spent among his collection. He was wealthy and well able to indulge his taste to any extreme. His kinsman, President Thomas Jefferson, offered to make him secretary of the legation at London, but he declined. Cosby was some years later superintendent of the Philadelphia public schools, and a contributor to _Graham's Magazine_, as well as to other high-class periodicals. In 1846 he was editor of the Louisville _Examiner_, the first Kentucky paper devoted to emancipation of the slaves. In 1860 Cosby was appointed consul to Geneva, and the next eight years of his life were devoted to his diplomatic duties and to traveling. He returned to the United States in 1868, and to his old home near Louisville. There death found him in June, 1871. Several of his friends, which included William Cullen Bryant, Rufus W. Griswold, and George D. Prentice, often urged Cosby to collect his verse and bring it together in a volume, but he was "too careless of his fame to do it;" and "many waifs he from time to time contributed to the periodicals," are now lost to the general public. He is, of course, well represented in all of the anthologies of American poetry, but a collection of his writings should be made. Cosby's best work is to be seen in his _Fireside Fancies_, _Ode to the Mocking Bird_, _The Traveler in the Desert_, and _A Dream of Long Ago_. He has often been pronounced the best song writer this country has produced; and that he was a man of fine culture, an ardent lover of books and Nature, and a maker of charming and exquisite verse can be readily proved.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. _The Poets and Poetry of the West_, by W. T.
Coggeshall (Columbus, Ohio, 1860); _Blades o' Bluegrass_, by Fannie P. Dickey (Louisville, Kentucky, 1892).
FIRESIDE FANCIES
[From _The Poets and Poetry of the West_, edited by W. T.
Coggeshall (Columbus, Ohio, 1860)]
By the dim and fitful firelight Musing all alone, Memories of old companions Dead, or strangers grown;-- Books that we have read together, Rambles in sweet summer weather, Thoughts released from earthly tether-- Fancy made my own.
In my cushioned arm-chair sitting Far into the night, Sleep, with leaden wings extinguished All the flickering light; But, the thoughts that soothed me waking, Care, and grief, and pain forsaking, Still the self-same path were taking-- Pilgrims, still in sight.
Indistinct and shadowy phantoms Of the sacred dead, Absent faces bending fondly O'er my drooping head, In my dreams were woven quaintly, Dim at first, but calm and saintly, As the stars that glimmer faintly From their misty bed.
Presently a lustrous brightness Eye could scarce behold, Gave to my enchanted vision Looks no longer cold, Features that no clouds encumber, Forms refreshed by sweetest slumber, And, of all that blessed number, Only one was old.
Graceful were they as the willow By the zephyr stirred!
Bright as childhood when expecting An approving word!
Fair as when from earth they faded, Ere the burnished brow was shaded, Or, the hair with silver braided, Or lament was heard.
Roundabout in silence moving Slowly to and fro-- Life-like as I knew and loved them In their spring-time glow;-- Beaming with a loving luster, Close, and closer still they cluster Round my chair that radiant muster, Just as long ago.
Once, the aged, breathing comfort O'er my fainting cheek, Whispered words of precious meaning Only she could speak; Scarce could I my rapture smother, For I knew it was my mother, And to me there was no other Saint-like and so meek!