tive; and his faculties were unimpaired and active within a few moments of his death. The austerity of reflection in his hours of respite from labor was tempered by the amenities of love and taste; and he thus represented, in manners and person, the union of strong volition, generous sentiment, and vivid intelligence.

The slow appreciation of Clinton's character is a striking evidence of the narrow views of mere politicians. That a legislator should preside over a philosophical society, correspond with foreign savans, describe new species of fish, birds, and grain, and leave the routine of public affairs to explore the resources of nature, was an incongruity they could neither understand nor tolerate. The distinction of an empty civic title they estimated, but the celebrity arising from the discovery of a wild farinaceous product in New York, before thought indigenous only on the banks of the Caspian, was beyond their comprehension. That philosophy and letters constituted an essential part of the culture of a statesman, was a truth they ignored; and that it was possible to execute the behests of the people, and maintain, at the same time, the individuality and self-respect of an accomplished and honest citizen, was a theory which the radicals of both parties hesitated to accept. It is for this very reason, however, that the example of Clinton was invaluable as a precedent. He raised the standard of public life, and enlarged the boun daries of official utility; he illustrated, with peculiar emphasis, the value of liberal education, mental discipline, and dignity of character, in the sphere of republican office; and left imposing landmarks in the path of ambition, which survive the suffrage of his own and the criticism of the adverse party.

He was, indeed, one of that rare and invaluable class of men who cherish a disinterested love of knowledge for its own sake, and keep habitual vigil at its shrine. An indefatigable purveyor, he sought the facts of nature as the only reliable basis for human well-being. The universe was to him a treasury of arcana, in which laws of vast practical utility and resources of unimagined worth await the earnest inquirer. To bring these latent means into relation with

the needs and capacities of mankind, was in his view the great problem of life. The scope of his enterprise included nature, government, and society; and no inference was too broad or detail too insignificant for the grasp of his mind. Thus, at one time, we find him announcing the discovery of a new kind of wheat, and, at another, bringing a Dutch scholar from an obscure village to translate the early archives of his native State; now watching a mullein-stalk to verify the deposit of young bees in its seed-vessels, and now broaching a plan for the defence of the city when threatened with invasion; noting the minerals and trees of the interior, the history of the Iroquois, and the "melancholy notes of the loon," advocating a vast project for inland navigation, and describing the various species of wood indigenous to the soil. From a charitable institution to a fossil, and from a man of genius to the plumage of a kingfisher, all that could increase the sum of recorded knowledge or give scope to human ability, he earnestly recognized. It is this singular union of the naturalist and statesman which gives to his character a stamp of distinctive beauty. It was not as associated with the tactics of party, but as the almoner of a higher economy, that he regarded the functions of a ruler. To discover and promote all that ministers to the welfare of the state was, in his regard, the genius of administration. He sought to build up a noble commonwealth, rather than the power of faction. The elements of knowledge and philanthropy he considered as vital, and accordingly originated and sustained, as primary objects, educational, economical, and benevolent institutions, which still bear gracious witness to his memory. His mind was, however, of too contemplative a tone to be on the alert for occasions to conciliate opponents; his manly integrity precluded resort to the arts of the demagogue; he thought too much to be minutely vigilant of the wayward current of popularity, and was too much absorbed in great undertakings to "catch the nearest way" to the favor of the multitude. The soundness of his intellectual growth and moral energy may be inferred from the rectitude and industry of his college life, wherein the youth prefigured the man; his acquisitions were gradual, but thorough; and while an undergraduate, he

drew up a masterly address to the regents, in behalf of his fellow-students. He was remarkably superior to selfish considerations, invariably devoting his official revenue to promoting the influence of whatever station he filled, and contributing largely from his private purse to science, hospitality, and charity. He was indifferent to emolument, but zealous for usefulness and honor. More adroit tacticians and political courtiers superseded him in office; but their very names are now forgotten, except when recalled as associated with his ; while the measures they ridiculed and the achievements they deemed chimerical are indissolubly wrought into the local features and the civic life of the country.

It would be now an ungracious task to review the forms of political animosity which, like a swarm of venomous insects, hung around the career of this brave citizen. When we compare the incidental annoyance with the ultimate triumph, the struggle with the victory, we are tempted to exclaim, with the hero of that lake whose tide he married to the sea, "There is glory enough," and, in a like generous spirit, to pass unrecorded the mean arts of faction and the outrages of party hatred. The history of Clinton's great achievement is like that of every undertaking that is in advance of the time. It is fortunate that in men of true genius the will is usually as strong as the aim is original, and that perseverance goes hand in hand with invention. It is remarkable that even Jefferson thought the Governor of New York a century beyond his age in the design he cherished. To the scepticism of intelligent friends was united the bitter opposition of partisan foes. Indignities, gross slanders, violent newspaper attacks, personal disrespect, and all the base weapons of sectional jealousy, were employed in vain. The thunders of Tammany Hall proved innocuous; satirical pamphlets only excited equally caustic replies; his failure as a Presidential candidate, and his unjust removal from the office of Canal Commissioner, only drew more strongly towards him the few who appreciated his abilities and shared his projects. He was offered the Secre taryship of State by a chief magistrate who subsequently, at the festive board of the opposition, proposed the health of Clinton as a public benefactor. He retreated from official toil

to his library, and knew how to soothe the wounds inflicted by reckless ignorance with the balm of literature and science. A man who can forget personal grievances over the pages of Linnæus or Bacon is above the need of sympathy. His courtesy was never laid aside, even when the poisoned shafts of detraction were flying thickly around him, nor his dignity invaded while the insolent shout of revengeful triumph filled the air. He was conscious of a mission above the spoils of office. The social consideration he enjoyed more than atoned for the casual loss of political distinction; foreigners of renown sought his dwelling; men of science were his favorite companions, books his most reliable consolation; and the great scheme he so long advocated, with the labor incident to its progress and consummation, gave genial employment to all his faculties. Now that the watchwords of party are forgotten and the ravings of faction have died away, his noble presence stands forth in bold relief on the historical canvas of that era, as the pioneer of the genius of communication, whose magic touch has already filled with civilized life the boundless valleys of the West, then an untracked forest; as the Columbus of national improvement, and the man who most effectually anticipated the spirit of the age and gave it executive illustration.

ART. XI.-1. An Essay on the Relations between Labor and Capital. By C. MORRISON. London: Longmans. 1854. 8vo. pp. 328.

2. Money and Morals: a Book for the Times. By JoHN LALOR. "Ye cannot serve God and Mammon." London : John Chapman. 1852. 8vo. pp. 328.

3. Sophisms of Free Trade and Popular Political Economy examined. By JOHN BARNARD BYLES, Sergeant-at-Law. Eighth Edition, with Corrections and Additions. London: Seeleys. 1851. 12mo. pp. 384.

THESE three volumes relate respectively to the three great

problems of political economy, which are now discussed with the greatest interest in England, because upon the proper solution of them depend in a great degree the future commercial prosperity and general welfare of the English people. They are of considerable, though secondary, interest in this country; for, owing to the intimate relations which now bind the two nations to each other, we cannot remain unaffected longer than a fortnight-the time which is required for a steamer to cross the Atlantic-by every fluctuation in the markets, every rise or fall in the public funds, every strike among the workmen, every great wave of emigration which leaves the shores of our mother land. Paraphrasing the line of the Latin poet, we can say, that we too are English by descent and by community of fortune, and that nothing can be uninteresting to us which closely concerns the well-being of Englishmen.

The actual condition and the probable futurity of the working classes in Great Britain-"the great social problem which has exercised so many minds in the present age, and is likely to give occupation to those of more than one succeeding generation"-form the subject of Mr. Morrison's work. He writes upon it temperately, with good feeling and good taste, not hopefully, and yet not despairingly. He has no new facts to offer, and no new advice to give. His chief object seems to be, to reconcile the workingmen to their hard lot, by convincing them that the hardships of that lot are inevitable. He retails to them, in clear and gentle language, the stereotyped doctrines of the English school of political economy, of Ricardo, Malthus, and McCulloch. He repeats the counsels which they have so often heard before;-that they must not become impatient and insubordinate, must not contract early marriages, must not organize strikes or combinations against their employers, must not frequent ale-houses or ginpalaces, must not be deluded by the pestiferous doctrines of the Communists and the Socialists, but must be industrious and provident, and must put all their savings, when they can make any, into the savings' banks. Such advice is easy to give, but somewhat difficult to act upon. We cannot flatter Mr. Morrison with the belief that it will do much to avert the evil which has excited his apprehensions. It will not alter the