consolation come home to the heart with redoubled effect, when they are heard from the lips of one, who is not only respected from the sanctity of his office, but who is personally beloved as a friend. This intimate connexion with his people-although, to a man of any sensibility, a source of some of the most exquisite gratifications of the human heart-makes a great addition to his toils. It makes a deep inroad on the time he would give to study; and almost compels him to redeem it from the hours, which ought to be given to exercise or repose. By the variety and painful interests, also, of the scenes and occupations, to which it calls him, the mind is often agitated and worn down; while the reflection, which it is impossible always to exclude, of the insufficient ability, with which his duties are performed, and the inadequate returns he can make for the friendship and confidence he receives, must often come over and oppress his spirits. The effect of these labours on the delicate frame of Mr. BUCKMINSTER could not fail to be soon visible. A disorder, which had made its appearance some years before, was sensibly increased during the year 1805. It was one of the most tremendous maladies, which God permits to afflict the human frame; and to which it has often been found, that minds of the most exquisite structure are peculiarly exposed. The manner, in which this visitation was endured by Mr. BUCKMINSTER, I can never think of, but with increasing admiration of the fortitude, and reverence of the piety, which sustained him. Those who saw his habitual gayety of disposition, and observed the lively interest, which he took in his friends, and all the usual occupations of life; and especially, who witnessed all his cheerfulness and activity, returning almost immediately after the severest of these attacks-were disposed to think, that he could not be sensible of the terrific nature of his disorder, or ever look forward with any distinct anticipation to its threatened consequences. nearest friends heard from him any allusion to his calamity; and, perhaps, there was only one of them, to whom all the thoughts of his soul, on this subject, were confided. How little they knew of him, who imagined, he was insensible to any of its appalling consequences, will appear by the following extract from his private journal, which I can scarcely transcribe without tears. It was seldom that even his October 31, 1805. "Another fit of epilepsy. I pray God, that I may be prepared, not so much for death, as for the loss of health, and, perhaps, of mental faculties. The repetition of these fits must, at length, reduce me to idiocy. Can I resign myself to the loss of memory, and of that knowledge, I may have vainly prided myself upon? O God! enable me to bear this thought, and make it familiar to my mind, that by thy grace I may be willing to endure life, as long as Thou pleasest to lengthen it. It is not enough to be willing to leave the world, when God pleases; we should be willing, even to live useless in it, if He, in his holy providence, should send such a calamity upon us. I think, I perceive my memory fails me. O God, save me from that hour!" It is proper to remark, that this suspicion of the failure of his memory was, I believe, wholly without foundation. His fears for the safety of a faculty—which, in him, was always so eminently perfect, that his friends scarcely ever thought of appealing from it on any question of fact—were awakened, probably, by that loss of facility of retention, which every philosophic mind, trained to the habit of classifying its ideas, is accustomed to experience with regard to those insulated facts, which cannot be easily connected with its general knowledge. In the spring of 1806, the increase of his disorder induced him to think of a voyage to Europe. His society, with a generous preference of his advantage to their own conve nience and pleasure, readily consented to his departure ; and he sailed for Liverpool early in May. He was received in London at the house of his relative and countryman, Samuel Williams, Esq. who, with his brother, an early friend of Mr. Buckminster, made his residence delightful by every possible attention. In August-having been joined by a friend from Boston, whose office it is to collect this imperfect memorial of his worth-he embarked for the Continent, and landed at Harlingen, on the Zuyder Zee. He passed rapidly through the chief cities of Holland, ascended the Rhine, and, partly on foot, made the tour of Switzerland. At Geneva he wrote, in a letter to a friend, a description of the fall of the mountain of Rossberg, or Ruffberg, which is, perhaps, one of the most beautiful and interesting of the minor productions of his pen. I subjoin it in a note, as a proof of how he could feel, and how he could describe.* From Switzerland he directed his course to Paris, where his stay, which he had intended should be short, was protracted to five months by the embarrassments to the intercourse with England, produced by the first operations of the Berlin decree. His residence there, however, could not be tedious amidst the literary resources of the French capital, and the inexhaustible treasures of the fine arts, with which the plunder of Europe has enriched it. Much of his time, also, both here ́and in London, was employed in collecting a library, for which his remarkable knowledge of literary history eminently qualified him; and, before he left Europe, he formed and sent home a collection of near three thousand volumes of the choicest writers in theology and general literature. Some of the motives, which induced him to expend so large a part of a small fortune in the purchase of books, will be seen in the following extract of a letter to his father * Note A. -accompanied with another very touching reference to the calamity, which still followed him. London, May 5, 1807. "If the malady, with which it has pleased God to afflict me, should not entirely disappear, I hope I shall be able, by his grace, so to discipline my mind, as to prepare it for any consequences of such a disorder; consequences, which I dread to anticipate, but which I think I could bear without guilty complaint. I sometimes fancy my memory has already suffered; but, perhaps, it is all fancy. You will, perhaps, say, that it is no very strong proof, that I have any serious apprehensions on this score, that I am continually purchasing and sending out books, and saying to my mind, thou hast goods laid up for many years. True-but, though I may be cut off by the judgment of God from the use of these luxuries, they will be a treasure to those, who may succeed me, like the hoards of a miser, scattered after his death. I consider, that, by every book I send out, I do something for my dear country, which the love of money seems to be depressing almost into unlettered barbarism." In February he returned to London, passed the following spring and summer in a tour through England, Scotland and Wales, embarked at Liverpool in August, and reached home in September. Some of the general impressions, which he received from his visit to Europe, may be collected from a Thanksgiving sermon, which he preached soon after his return, and which is inserted in this volume. His disorder-though the mild climate of the continent seemed to mitigate it, and even for a while to flatter him with the hope of complete recovery-remained radically the same. His constitution, however, probably gained some additional vigour by his travels, and was thus enabled onger to endure the attacks of his malady. He returned now to all the duties of his office with res welcomed by his society with But no praise ever seduced doubled activity. He was unabated affection and regard. him to intermit his diligence. exhaustible source of interest and delight; and, as he was unavoidably exposed to frequent interruptions during the day, his studies were protracted till midnight with fatal constancy. In the inquiries peculiar to his profession he took increasing pleasure; and he has more than once told me, that he was fast losing his taste for all other studies. In order that this all-absorbing interest in theology should not wholly destroy his relish for elegant letters-which he justly considered as a valuable auxiliary to his ministerial influence he occasionally lent his aid, as he had done previously to his voyage, to the Monthly Anthology, and other literary periodical publications of the day. I refer in a note to several pieces in these works, of which he was the author.* His only habitual relaxation was music, of which, from his youth, he was passionately fond, and in which his taste was, I believe, very exquisite. This, of course, led him to take an interest in the sacred music of his church; and, to make this part of worship more perfect, he collected and published, in 1808, a number of hymns, as a supplement to those appended by Dr. Colman to Tate and Brady's psalms. The collection was formed on the general principle, that, as singing is an act of worship, in which all christians are to join, it is proper, that those sentiments, which are peculiar to any of the different sects, should be excluded, so that no tender conscience may be prevented from sharing in this part of social devotion. Reasonable, however, and evangelical, as is this principle, it did not prevent his little book-though designed only for his own society, and not regularly published-from being attacked with a great deal of asperity. He was accused, in a con *Note B. |