This work was announced more than

six months ago as then in press, and the publication has been delayed by circumstances which are differently represented by the author and the gentleman to whom was attributed some agency in producing the delay. The disputed point we have nothing to do with. The book is now before the public. It appears to be such an one as almost any literary gentleman, with a file of Mr. Webster's speeches before him, could prepare in ten days or a fortnight, rather a collection of memorandums than a memoir,-written in the usual popular and figurative style of the author, but abounding in evidences of haste and inattention, which, although excusable in a periodical, should not be allowed to escape in more elaborate works. Still it is a good book, for certain purposes, and may be extensively circulated. Too much can hardly be said, and written, and published, to sustain the characters of the great men of the nation, and to make the people, in all the various sections of our widely extended country familiar with their merits. The people of other nationsof France and England, at least-are much better acquainted with their prominent statesmen, orators, poets, preachers, lawyers, military and naval commanders, than our citizens are with the good or indifferent qualities of the same classes of persons among us. In England, almost every one who writes a short poem or song, makes a tolerable speech in Parliament, or gains a difficult cause in a court, becomes the subject of an engraving and a memoir in a magazine, and perhaps even of a respectable octavo volume. Though this may have the appearance of vanity, it is not without an important influence on the community. The more a people know of each other, and especially the more that is known of the personal histories of individuals who stand out prominently from the ranks of their cotemporaries, the better. We should be glad to see here an annual Sketch of Public Characters, similar to the English periodical of that name.

The Life of Daniel Webster has become somewhat familiar to the greater portion of readers in New-England. All have heard and are able to repeat something of the "New-Hampshire Far

tions of the country where his history and character are but little known, and where, we are sorry to add, we have

some fears that both have suffered from the misrepresentations of political adversaries. To such places, if there be any, it would be well if the volume before us could be introduced and liberally spread. Mr. Webster is destined to fill a much larger space in the mental vision of this great people, than he has yet occupied; and every attempt to place his talents and services, his public character, and his private virtues, before them, should meet with approbation. Mr. Knapp's style is fascinating, and he has arranged his materials with judgement and taste; and these circumstances give his book a claim to a place in any library.

The fact above alluded to-that most of the prominent details of the life of Mr. Webster are well-known in NewEngland-is one reason why we should not here present any epitome of Mr. Knapp's memoir; but another, and, pertended to enrich the pages of our Maghaps, a better one, is, that we have inazine with an original memoir; and this intention has been so long unfulfilled, solely because the gentleman who engaged to furnish the memoir has been by other indispensable engagements. prevented from performing his promise With this preliminary we proceed to offer two extracts from Mr. Knapp's Memoir-the first a brief notice of an occasion on which Mr. Webster produced one of the best and purest specimens of his eloquence.

While Mr. Webster was engaged in the arduous duties of the Convention, [that which was called to revise the Constitution of Massachusetts in 1820] he was called, by a voice he could not resist, to again bring himself before the public. This call was from the Pilgrim Society, who were to assemble at Plymouth to commemorate the close of the second century, since the landing of their forefathers, on the 22d of December, 1620; and to usher in the third century with feelings elevated, but chastened, and to pour out their hearts in gratitude for the past, while their souls were lighted up with hopes for future generations. The Society had existed for many years, and several judicious sermons and orations had been delivered before that body of men, who wished to keep alive a just remembrance of their ancestors; but never was the excitement among the sons of the pilgrims so great as at this anniversary. Two hundred years had passed away since the event they celebrated, and time-honored monuments were scattered through the country. The nation was at peace with all the world. The trees which the pilgrims once planted had grown great and prolific, and their

children alone plucked the fruit. There was no spoiler in the land, and all traces of a hostile foot were obliterated from the soil of their birthplace. The scattered remnants of the red men were now regarded with compassion, not with fear; the aborigines had fallen like autumnal leaves, and no second spring had renewed them. The little cloud, which appeared two centuries ago not bigger than a man's hand on the horizon, had now spread over the whole hemisphere, to refresh the country. The sufferings of the pilgrims could not now be spared; no, not one of them, for they at this period shone as gems in a martyr's crown. No ordinary voice could have sung the requiem of two centuries; no common hand could have written their epitaphs; and no prophet of partial inspiration could have ventured upon the unborn ages, which crowded on their souls.

The other extract is beautiful as a specimen of the author's style, and presents a few particulars respecting a man who was less known than he should have been, and whose untimely death was a national loss.

On his return from Washington in the spring of 1829, Mr. Webster had the misfortune to lose his brother, the Hon. Ezekiel Webster, a Counsellor at Law in the state of New-Hampshire. His death was sudden and remarkable; he fell and expired while in the midst of an argument at the bar, without a sigh or a struggle. No event could have been more unexpected by the public, for he was one of those models for a picture of health and strength, that Salvator Rosa would have drawn in his mountain scenery, if he had wished to exhibit a commander able to bear the fatigues and duties of council and of war. He was lamented by his professional brethren, and sincerely mourned by the community at large.

Ezekiel Webster was two or three years older than his brother Daniel, but did not graduate until three years after him, in 1804. In college, he was the first in his class; his intellect was of a very high order; its capacity was general, for he was able to comprehend the abstruse and difficult, and at the same time to enjoy the tasteful and the elegant. He was distinguished for classical literature. His knowledge of Greek, particularly, was beyond that of his cotemporaries in college; and this is almost an unqualified proof of taste, when the study is pursued from a real fondness for the language and not merely for the pride of learning, or for the rewards of superiority.

His knowledge of English literature was deep and extensive, for he had not skimmed over books as a matter of amusement, but he looked into them as a man of mind, who intends to draw lessons from all he reads. Few men among our scholars knew so much of the English poets as he did, and he valued them as he should have done, as philosophers and painters of human nature, from whom much knowledge may be obtained to illustrate and adorn what duller minds have put into maxims and rules.

He made himself master of the law as a science, and became well acquainted with its practice in his native state. He went up to first principles with the ease and directness of a great mind, and separated at once that which was casual and local, from that which is permanent and founded on the basis of moral justice and the nature of man. There seemed no effort in any thing he did; all was natural and easy, as if intuitive. There was nothing about him of that little bustling smartness so often seen in ordinary persons, striving to perform

something to attract the attention of the little world around them.

His general information was not only extensive, but laid up in excellent order, ready for use. He was steadily engaged in the duties of his profession, but never seemed hurried or confused in his business. He took all calmly and quietly. He did nothing for parade or show, or mere effect, nor did he speak to the audience while addressing the court and jury. His life was passed in habits of industry and perseverance; and his accumulations of wealth and knowledge were regular and rapid. From the commencement of his life as a reasoning being, responsible for his own actions, to the close of it, he preserved the most perfect consistency of character; no paroxysms of passion, no eccentricities of genius were ever found in him. His equanimity was only equalled by his firmness of purpose. In this he was most conspicuous; he thought leisurely and cautiously, and having made up his mind, he was steadfast and immoveable. Having no hasty or premature thoughts, he seldom had occasion to change his opinions, and was therefore, free from those mortifying repentances, so common to superior minds of warmer temperament. By honesty of purpose and soundness of judgement he kept a just balance in weighing all matters before him. All this firmness and equanimity, and other virtues, seemed constitutional, and not made up by those exertions so necessary to most frail beings, who intend to support a character for steady habits. He was blessed with a frame that felt few or no infirmities, such as weaken the nerves and bring down the mighty in intellect to those degrading superstitions that stain the brightness of genius and destroy the high hopes of immortal beings, and make them slaves to darkness and absurdity. He suffered no moral or mental weakness in his whole path of duty, for his constitution, until within a short time of his death, exhibited a sound mind in a sound body, and neither appeared essentially injured nor decayed, to the hour of his exit from this world.

He

He never sought public honors, nor literary or political distinctions, and therefore had none of those throes and agonies so common to vaulting ambition; not that he declined all public trusts, when he was conscious that he could do any good to his fellow men. He was several years a member of one or other branch of the Legislature of New-Hampshire, and served as a trustee of Dartmouth College. was at different times put up for a member of Congress, but it was at periods when his friends thought that his name would do some good to his political party, as the members of Congress in New-Hampshire are chosen by a general ticket; but when they were decidedly in power, he would seldom or never consent to be a candidate. This was much to be regretted, for he was admirably calculated for public life by his extensive knowledge and incorruptible integrity. He would have been a firstrate speaker on the floor of Congress. His eloquence was impressive and commanding. There was in his delivery a slight defect in the labial sounds-in the familiar use of his voice, which was rather pleasant to the listener than otherwise, for it was a proof of a natural manner; but warmed by his subject, a more rich, full, and sonorous voice was seldom heard in any public body; not that his tones were delicate or mellifluous, but full of majesty and command, free from arrogance, timidity, or hesitation. His gestures were graceful, but not in the slightest degree studied; his language was rich, gentlemanly, select, but not painfully chosen; he not only had words for all occasions, but the very words he should have used.

As a writer he excelled in judgement and taste; there was a classical elegance in his familiar writings; and his higher compositions were marked with that lucid order and clearness of thought and purity of expression, which distinguished the Augustan age. His sentences were not grappled together by hooks of steel, but connected by golden hinges, that made a harmonious whole. His library was rich in works of merit, ancient and modern. The history of literature and science was as familiar to him as that of his native state, and he had the means of turning to it with much greater facility.

He was an instance in point that a man may be a good lawyer, and yet devote some of his time to classical pursuits.

Ezekiel Webster was one of those great men, rare instances in the world, who had thrown away ambition; and who preferred to be learned and happy in his course of life, rather than to court the gale and spread his sails, to be wafted along on popular opinion. He sought not popularity, but he had it that popularity which follows, not that which is run after. He watched the signs of the times, and was as good a diviner in politics as any one; but whatever the presages were, he looked at coming events unmoved, leaving their results to Heaven.

For several of the last years of his life, he was curtailing his business in order to devote some portion of the prime of his manhood to literary and scientific pursuits, so congenial to his heart; but in this he was disappointed; for yet while in the fulness of his strength, he was called to leave the world, for whose benefit he was formed. The ways of Providence are right, however hidden the laws are from us. It is to be regretted that one so able should have written so little as he has; probably he was waiting for those hours of leisure, in which he was contemplating to form his plan of some literary work. The writer of these remarks, his classmate and his friend,-once suggested to him the history of his native state as a subject for his pen, and the thought did not seem unpleasant to him. In the boyish days of the writer, he undertook to translate Anacreon, and carried his productions daily for the corrections of his friend, whose mature mind gave the translation all the finish it possessed.

No one he ever knew had a more admirable spirit of criticism than Ezekiel Webster, united with that generous indulgence which only great minds feel and practice. A few months before he died, some symptoms of a disease of the heart were perceptible, but not alarming to his friends; but he knew the uncertainty of human life, and without any special command set his house in order, and made preparation for his long journey. There is a beauty in that calm, deep, silent, religious feeling, that none but great and pure minds can ever know. After having put all his worldly affairs into a most perfect train for settlement at his death, and wishing his friends to be free from all doubts upon his religious impressions and belief, he sat down and wrote his sentiments on this momentous subject, which were found on his table after his death. This was his last composition. How true it is, that the enjoyment of health, the accumulating of wealth, the pursuits of science and the love of letters, and the world's applause, sanctioned by the good man's benison, are not sufficient for an immortal mind. All these things are, in a great measure, connected with fellow mortals, and are finite in their influences upon the mind, while religion is a connexion with infinity,-with Deity, it enters into eternity, leaves time and sense to earth, and by the bright inspirations of

use.

There is no country in which a good Encyclopædia, adapted to popular use, should meet with more encouragement than in the United States;-which is truly a reading community. The publication named at the head of this article is within the means of purchase of many, and, perhaps, of the great body of readers, or families. The English publications of this character are altogether too expensive and too bulky for general They are more than half filled with matter which is of no interest to common readers. Generally speaking, the long and elaborate treatises on the sciences are of small use in Encyclopædias. The student and the professor drink at other fountains; in the compass of such articles there cannot be detail enough for them, though there is quite too much for others. The science of law may, indeed, be an exception; and it is so treated in the present work, under its separate heads, that it cannot fail to enlighten a plain man, who knows little of technicalities on the subject that regulates his contracts and controls his property.

The foundation of the Encyclopædia Americana is a German work, rather strangely called the Conversations Lexicon. More than one hundred competent writers, hesides the editor, were employed in compiling it, and since 1812 more than 80,000 copies have been sold, besides two pirated editions.

Doctor Lieber, a gentleman of great industry and research, is translating this work, and adapting it to the use of the American public, in which he is much aided by Mr. E. Wigglesworth and Doc

tor T. G. Bradford. The work has, besides, the great advantage of American biography, furnished by Mr. Walsh.

Much of the original German matter is excluded, and its place supplied by things of more general interest to readers in this country. In fact, the work is, in this respect, worthy of the title American. Many subjects that have interest in Europe would have none here; such is Heraldry, which, in the present work, is reduced to a bare outline. The descendants of the barons, and even of the serfs, may be supposed to feel some interest in armorial bearings, under which lord and tenant mustered to the field; but in this country the images of Brutus and Cassius would be more reverenced, than heraldric distinctions conferred by Arthur himself. Our best emblems, if any we covet, are a sheep dormant, or an ox couchant, on a field vert.

The Encyclopædia is very satisfactory on the subjects of American law, geography and biography; notices are given also of distinguished men in Europe, who are now "playing their parts.' We could, indeed, sometimes wish that the limits would allow more of our biography, as there is no notice of our Heath, and Brooks,-though there is one of Byles, who has come down in tradition as a wit. But there are faithful and spirited sketches of Colden, Church, Bayard, Benezet, Boudinot, Bowdoin, Boylston, Burril, Dallas, Decatur, Dexter, Holley, Gore, Gerry, Emmett, Fulton, Brainerd, Gates, &c. &c. &c.

Under the head of Constitutions, is a most elaborate and clear account of all known constitutions, and those of this country are arranged in tables with great perspicuity. There is more labor and research in this one article, of a few pages, than always enters into the manufacture of a folio. In the last fifty years there have been about 114 written constitutions;-but these are such casual things, that 31 of them have been abolished, and many of them at the point of the bayonet. France has had nine constitutions since the Revolution; and is somewhat in want of the tenth.

Another article, worthy of being commended and studied, is a very interesting account of the Indian Languages, chiefly from materials collected by Mr. Heckewelder, and Mr. Duponceau. It seems, that there is not in this country the astonishing variety in forms of speech, that is common in Europe and Asia. There is a uniform system pervading all the languages. In regularity of form, and what is more surprising, in abun

dance of words, the American languages are inferior to no others. There is in them a curious process of compounding words, and a multitude of ideas are thus combined. For instance, when a woman of the Delawares is playing with a little cat, she will say Kuligatschis-or, "give me your pretty little paw." This is compounded thus: K. is the inseparable pronoun of the second person,-uli is part of the word ulit, and signifies pretty,-gat is part of wichgat, and signifies paw,-schis is a diminutive termination, and conveys the idea of little

ness.

In the same manner pilápe, a youth, is formed from pilsit, innocent, and lenápe, man. This process "consists in putting together portions of different words, so as to awaken at the same time, in the mind of the hearer, the various ideas which they separately express." This compounding of words was remarked by Eliot," the apostle of the Indians."

It is certain, too, that the languages are rich in words, having several to express one thing, and many to express shades of difference. A dictionary of one of the Iroquois languages, (with the German,) consists of seven quarto manuscript volumes. The English language, and several others, have but one word signifying to cat, but in some of the Indian tongues, the thing eaten is expressed in the verb;-jacurù is to eat bread, jemerì to eat fruit, janeri to eat flesh, &c. In the Cherokee language, thirteen different verbs are used to express the action of washing.

In the Delaware language, the Indians have various words to express what we mean by the word old, and which we apply to all things. The Indians vary their expression, when speaking of a thing that has life, and one that has not,-for in the latter case they use a word signifying that the thing has long been used, worn out, &c.

Religion the only Safeguard of

National Prosperity: a Sermon preached in Trinity Church, Boston, Dec. 1, 1831, being the day of the Annual Thanksgiving, by the Rev. John H. Hopkins, Assistant Minister, and Professor of Systematic Divinity in the Massachusetts Theological School.

Since the days of those reverend political divines, Doctors Osgood and Parish, but few of the discourses, on our set days of Thanksgiving and Fast, have been circulated beyond the limits of the congregations to which they have been delivered. It is quite a rare occurrence that a Fast or Thanksgiving sermon now issues from the press. For several