xt7rjd4pkn94 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7rjd4pkn94/data/mets.xml Caldwell, Charles, 1772-1853. 1855  books b92-65-27081229 English Lippincott, Grambo, : Philadelphia : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Caldwell, Charles, 1772-1853.Warner, Harriot W. Autobiography of Charles Caldwell, M.D.  / with a preface, notes, and appendix, by Harriot W. Warner. text Autobiography of Charles Caldwell, M.D.  / with a preface, notes, and appendix, by Harriot W. Warner. 1855 2002 true xt7rjd4pkn94 section xt7rjd4pkn94 

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Publisfv'd by Liypinrott. Grninbo  Co Philsdeaiph1I.





             WITH A










      Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by
                  LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO, AND CO.,
in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States, in and for
             the Eastern District of the State of Pennsylvania.



  THE Autobiography of Dr. Caldwell was composed during the
last seven or eight years of his life. It was also revised, corrected,
and prepared by himself for the press, and committed to my care,
to be preserved, and presented to the public, when the proper
time should arrive for its publication. It was my earnest wish
to leave it untouched by any other hand. On submitting it, how-
ever, to friends and publishers, it was pronounced somewhat too
voluminous to be printed entire; and it became necessary, there-
fore, to abstract from it such portions as could best be removed,
without detracting from the interest and character of the work.
  Wholly unaccustomed to such an office, and entirely unassisted
in i;Q execution, I am not without serious apprehensions that the
task may have been very imperfectly performed. I make this
statement, therefore, in order that, if there should appear in the
body of the work, any discrepancy or other imperfection of
manner or matter, it may be attributed to the true cause; for the
work, as given from the hand of its author, was singularly con-
gruous and complete.
  It was my original intention to append to the author's name,
on the title-page of this book, all the degrees and titles of honor
which have been conferred upon him by the numerous universi-
ties and societies, literary, scientific, and philosophical, of which
he was a member, both at home and abroad.
  Finding them, however, to be inconveniently numerous, and
remembering, moreover, that, in his lifetime, he took no pains to

iv               PREFACE BY THE EDITRESS.

collect and preserve such testimonials, nor ever appended a single
title to his name (that of I.D. alone excepted) in any of his
printed publications, I have deemed it most consistent with his
character and mode of acting, to give his Autobiography to the
public under the sanction and influence of his name alone.




History-Meaning of the term-Autobiography-Its difficulties-Egotism-False
  modesty-Reasons for writing-Early companions-Books my real companions-
  Qui docet, discit-Exercise-Civility-Young Americans abroad-Trial of civility
  in London-Pleasures of retrospection-No accidental act-Disinterestedness-
  Attachments-Natives of the United States and Great Britain compared-Abbe
  St. Pierre and Franklin.-Nature makes few great men, training many-Priestley
  -Ambition-Love of mental contest not a good habit.  .   .   .   17

                       CHAPTER I.

My ancestral name-Whence derived-Uncle Davy-My father-My mother's fa-
mily-Col. Murray-His exploits-My birth-Mecklenburg County, North Caro-
lina-Go to school-My teachers-Progress-Begin Latin-Build a log study-
Lose my parents-Teach in an academy-Remove to another-Resolve to study
medicine      .    .   .   .   .    .   .   .     .    .   .  55

                      CHAPTER II.

Salisbury-My Preceptor-D)issatisfaction-Determine to go to Philadelphia-My
friends in Salisbury-Henderson-Rev. Dr. Hall-Rev. Dr Archibald-M ilitary
escort-First view of Washington-Its effects on me-Leave Salisbury  77

                     CHAPTER III.

Philadelphia-Eloquence-Pulpit-Bar-Mr. L-s-Mr. T.-His 'daughter-
Medical school-The Faculty-Shippen-His appearance-Character-Punc-
tuality-Rush-His introductory-Khun-Wistar-His character-His classical
learning      .    .   .   .   .      .   .   .      .   .   100




                       CHAPTER IV.

Lectures-Mode of attending them-Notes-Critics-No parties-Mrs. Rush-A
  party at her house-Rush's lectures-Analogy-Unity of fever-Dr. G-tts-
  His manners-Dr. Barton-His appearance-Courtesy-Character-Ihenry Moss
  -Dr. Woodhouse-His skill in chemistry.  .   .    .   .    .   . 140

                        CHAPTER V.

Yellow fever in Philadelphia-Flight of the inhabitants-Commerce arrested-New
  York-Difficulty in obtaining lodgings-Fever Hospital-Write on domestic
  origin-Dr. Rush-His courage and firmness-His judicious practice-Calomel-
  Its efficacy as a remedy-Rush's dose of " ten and ten"-Rush's opinion of the
  domestic origin of yellow fever, supported by Aretseus, Jr.-Schuylkill water-
  Mode of debating-Close of medical session-Translated Blumenbach-Plan of
  study-Diet-Exercise-Failing health-The brain multiplex-Gall-Spurzheim

                       CHAPTER VI.

Military Campaign-Washington-Hamilton-Gen. G-r-y-An adventure-Am
  appointed surgeon to a brigade-A long walk-A fever cured by rain-Letter to
  Rush-Theses-Military banquet-A lady-Her influence    .   .   . 203

                       CHAPTER VII.

Degree of M. D.-Thesis-What occurred at my examination-Offend Drs. Wistar
  and Rush-Consequences-Begin practice-Success-Amusements-Chess-Dr.
  Rittenhouse-Dr. Rush signs my diploma-Waterworks in Philadelphia-Dr.
  Rush, the originator of domestic origin of yellow fever-Write in his support on
  that subject .   .    .   .    .   .    .   .    .   .    .   .  228

                       CHAPTER VIII.

Post-Wortem examination-Dr. Physick begins it-Its good effect-French Revolu-
   tion-It promotes the knowledge of medicine-Napoleon-Medical School of
   Paris-Physical sketch of the city of Philadelphia-Origin and nature of yellow
   fever-Non-contagion-Philadelphia Almshouse-Lectures-The first clinical
   course-Rittenhouse-Henry Mloss-Dr. Smith-Physicians of Philadelphia-
   Rush alone a philosopher-Yellow fever again-Write anonymously-Am taken
   ill of the fever-Rush and Physick visit and attend me-Philadelphia Academy of
   Medicine-Deliver the semi-annual oration-Dr. Haygarth-Reply to his critique
   -Dr. Lettsom-Lost publications-Italian language-Prepare for teaching
   medicine... . . . 256


                             CONTENTS.                           Vii

                       CHAPTER IX.

Prizes-Never lost one-Dr. Rush unfriendly-A prophecy-Brunonian theory of
  life-A public speech-Dr. Coxe-A scene in his lecture-room-Vitality of the
  blood-Dr. Darwin, Currie, Beddoes, and Lettsom-Correspondents-American
  medical independence .    .   .   .    .   .    .   .   .    . 288

                       CHAPTER X.

Sedatives and stimulants-Scbuylkill water-Phrenology-Disease a unit-MNetho-
  dical nosology-Reformation-Melancthon-Luther-Gen. Jackson-Ramsay-
  Coxe-Seybert-Death of Dr. Rush-Memoir of Dr. Rush in Delaplaine's Reposi-
  tory-Rev. Dr. Staughton-How to teach one's self the best tuition-Dr. Chapman

                       CHAPTER XI.

War of 1812-Port Folio-Nicholas Biddle-No contributors-Contents-Officers of
  the army-Events of the war-Gen. Brown-His character-Theatre-Quakers
  -Notes to Cullen-Chapman-Faculty of Physical Science-Appointed to a
  professorship-Dr. Cooper-Charles Hare, Esq.-Death of Dr. Wistar-Pro-
  nounce a eulogy on him--Rev. Dr. Holley-Invited to Lexington, Kentucky-
  Resign my professorship in Philadelphia-Character of Cooper-Priestley com-
  pared with Cooper    .    .   .   .    .        .   .   .    . 321

                      CHAPTER XII.

Leave Philadelphia-State of travelling-Long drought-Reach Lexington-
  Points of the compass-Medical school-Professors-Dr. D-y-An address to
  the people-Address to the Legislature-My introductory-Valedictory-Reply
  to a critique on my "' Life of Greene"-'-End of session-Departure for Europe-
  Liverpool-English women-Stage-coach anecdote-Mrs. Solomon-Roscoe-
  Bostock-Sir Astley Cooper-John Hunter-First interview with Abernethy-
  Mr. Lawrence-Mrs. Somerville-Ladies' conversation party-Chelsea Hospital
  -London-Speakers in Parliament-Thames tunnel-Coronation of George the
  Fourth-Death of Queen Caroline.   .   .    .   .    .   .   . 349

                     CHAPTER XIII.

Set out for Paris-Books-Where found, and why-Cuvier-Dupuytren-Baron
  Larrey-Alibert-Lafayette-Grouchy-Duchesse de P-Her courtesies-
  Leave Paris-Frost in June-A French lady-Voyage home -Ship'Electra-
  Storm-Lexington school-Proposal to remove it-Reasons-Valedictory-Louis-
  ville--Rropose to erect a school there-Difficulties-Opposition-No faculty-
  No means of instruction-Money-A public speech-Judge Rowan-James

Viii                         CONTENTS.

  Guthrie-Dr. Flint-Success of the School-Dr. Yandell-Intrigues-Chair va-
  cated-How filled-The medical faculty-Honorary degree offered, and refused
  -Graduating class-Their opinion and action-How the two medical schools of
  Lexington and Louisville were raised up, and how they declined  .  890

                      CHAPTER XIV.
Have written on too many subjects-Authorship-Yellow fever-Dr. Rush at length
  convinced of its non-contagion--Plague-A French writer on it--Prison disci-
  pline        .   .      .   .    .   .    .   .    .   .      . 417

                      CHAPTER XV.

Literary and scientific portion of my Autobiography-Catalogue-Conclusion 429

APPENDIX .. . . . . 451




History-Meaning of the term-Autobiography-Its difficulties-Egotism-False
  modesty-Reasons for writing-Early companions-Books his real companions-
  Qui docet, diecit-Exercise-Civility-Young Americans abroad-Trial of civility
  in London-Pleasures of retrospection-No accidental act-Disinterestedness-
  Attachments-Natives of the United States and Great Britain compared-Abbe
  St. Pierre and Franklin.-Nature makes few great men, training many-Priestley
  -Ambition-Love of mental contest not a good habit.

  FEW words in the English language have been so variously
interpreted as the term history. Yet so general is its use, and so
high its importance, that none deserves to be more accurately
defined, and, in its meaning, more exactly understood. Without
such definiteness and precision, more or less of mistake and dis-
order, if not of actual confusion and contradiction, must occur in
the productions of the clearest thinkers, and the ablest and most
accomplished speakers and writers, that express themselves on
the subject.
  The term history is of Greek origin, and is derived from a
word which signifies, according to the different purposes for
which it is employed on different occasions, a witness, a judge, or
an umpire.
  Retaining, in all cases, therefore, a sufficient remnant of its
original and literal meaning to serve for the recognition of its
sameness, it has been defined, according to the views and objects
of the several writers, who have spoken of it to that -effect, a
narrative of events-a witness of the times-the light or lamp of
truth-the remembrancer and teacher of life-and the messenger
of antiquity.


  But the definition of history which, all things considered, ap-
pears to be most significant and comprehensive, as well as most
correct, and therefore preferable to every other, is, that it is that
form of writing, which records and teaches truth and philosophy,
by fact and example. For, if it do not teach "philosophy" as well
as " fact," it is so far defective.
  This is, in a particular manner, the most appropriate definition
of individual history, or biography-especially of autobiography,
provided it be executed with ability and faithfulness. In such a
case, it reflects life as an aggregate of fact and philosophy, with as
much accuracy as the mirror does the image of the object placed
before it. For it is not to be doubted that, other things being
equal, each individual, in consideration of his more correct and
thorough knowledge of himself both bodily and mentally-espe-
cially of the grounds, motives, and consequences of his actions,
no less than of the actions themselves, is better qualified than
anybody else, to give a true account of his own life and character,
and to render them as instructive and useful as their materials
will admit. He can, with much more certainty and precision,
tell, under what circumstances, and from what influences he per-
formed or refrained from performing certain actions, adopted or
rejected certain opinions and measures, and engaged in or de-
clined certain enterprises, which presented themselves to him,
and thus make his narrative more instructive and valuable, by
enriching it with the true constituents, and the positive relations
of cause and effect, than it could be rendered by any other
  Under such advantages of information and knowledge, nothing
but feelings excessive and ungoverned, misdirected, or in some
other way perverted and deranged, can so detract from the fitness
of the narrator to write his own history, as to render it unpro-
ductive of a beneficial result.
   The feelings referred to as most likely to interfere with the
accuracy and deduct from the value of the writer's narrative, are
various, and some of them directly opposed to each other in their
action and influence.
   The chief and most formidable of them are excessive self-
esteem and love of approbation, which, acting singly, or in co-
operation, impel the individual preparing his own history, to aim



at an inordinate and unmerited degree of standing and applause,
by representing himself as the chief or one of the chief person-
ages, and most effective agents, in every interesting scene and
enterprise described by him. In opposition to these two strong
and imperious feelings, is an excess of modesty and diffidence,
inducing the self-historian to forego, in his narrative (by an entire
omission, an inadequate representation, or some other mode of
diminution or concealment of scenes and events), the amount of
reputation and distinction, to which, from the part he performed
in them, he is justly entitled. I need hardly add, that a pre-
dominance of the faculty of cautiousness, or secretiveness, or of
both united, may readily, in cases which, without being specified,
must present themselves to every one, make the autobiographer
swerve from truth. Nor would it be difficult to refer to other
feelings, which, when in a state of excitement, are but too well
calculated to produce the same effect. Indeed, deep fbeling of
every description, is unfriendly to accuracy of perception, repre-
sentation, and thought. While, by augmenting pathos, and render-
ing expression more elevated and intense, it may add to the force
and effect of eloquence and poetry, it withholds from philosophy
its purity and soundness, and from history the invulnerable
authenticity which should always characterize it.
  In proof of the incalculable value that may be imparted to
autobiography, as a source of instruction in the philosophy of
human conduct, that of Dr. Franklin may be confidently adduced.
Of that wonderful man, the biography written by himself-plain,
simple, and unlabored, as it is-contains, notwithstanding, an
amount of philosophical teaching tenfold more abundant, genuine,
and useful, than could have been incorporated in it, by all the
other biographers on earth. It is hardly sufficient to call that
composition the autobiography of Franklin. With but little
metaphorical extravagance, it may be pronounced Franklin him-
self; consolidated and pellucidly embodied in the essence of his
own words; still living, acting, thinking, and feeling, with each
spring of action, whether of body or mind, together with the
action itself and its several consequences, as distinctly.visible as
if they were inclosed for exhibition in a cabinet of crystal.
  If the representation, made in a preceding paragraph, of the
several causes, so adverse and influential as to be likely to de-



tract from autobiographical impartiality and candor, or entirely
to subvert them, in behalf of their opposites, partiality and de-
ceptiveness-if that representation be true (and I have no reason
to apprehend that it will be controverted), then, for a person,
engaged in writing his own biography, strictly and conscienti-
ously to aim at, and accurately attain the just mean between the
extremes of the contrary and conflicting causes, is no easy task.
Nor is it one, which, however ably and perfectly executed, is
rewarded by security from envy and obloquy, or even by protec-
tion from contradiction and injustice. Far otherwise. He who
engages in it must be unusually sanguine and unsuspicious, and
limited in his experience and knowledge of men and their prac-
tices, if he believe or even hope that he will escape the charge
of vanity or self-conceit, or be shielded from some other more
disparaging and offensive imputation. Provided his account of
himself be in any marked degree commendatory and flattering,
he must deem himself exceedingly fortunate, and kindly treated,
if he be not suspected and publicly accused of an attempt to
attract admiration, and attain celebrity, by studied fiction, or de-
liberate falsehood-or by both united.
  In my own case, should the memoir I have commenced be pre-
pared and published, the danger of an accusation of this sort will
be not only imminent, but peculiarly annoying, if made on ac-
count of the difficulty, not to say the impossibility of meeting
and refuting it. For, as will hereafter more fully appear, there
exists not a human being, who is competent satisfactorily to
testify to either the truth or the falsehood of an account, by
whomsoever it may be given, of the first twenty-five years of my
life. The reason of this may be briefly rendered. There is not
now to be found-it is believed that there is not now living, any
individual, whose acquaintance with me was sufficiently intimate
to authorize him to testify to a single fact respecting me, during
those years-except, perhaps, my mere existence, and to my
having been reputed an indefatigable student. No inaccuracies
or objections, doubts or cavils, therefore, alleged in relation to
my memoir during that period, can be conclusively either dis-
credited or confirmed. My own statement, being the only testi-
mony on the subject that can be adduced, must be admitted as
true, regarded as doubtful, or rejected as false.



  By these difficulties, however, my course shall be neither im-
peded nor changed. At no period of my life have I ever, in a
matter of moment, "put my hand to the plough, and looked
backward." Nor shall I do so now, by conforming to the prac-
tice of either the backslider, or the irresolute. Having com-
menced the story of my life, I shall tell it truly, though by
readers who are strangers to my native feelings, and my habits
early formed, and never departed from, I may be suspected of
occasionally spicing it with fiction or fable. By those to whom
I am sufficiently known, no suspicion of the kind will be enter-
tained. And as respects the tribe of fault-finders by profession
(for such beings have an existence), whether they be cavillers,
snarlers, wise and wary doubters, or habitual contradictors, I hold
them now, when approaching the close of my life, in the same
calm and unalterable disregard (not to employ a harsher term) in
which I am known to have held them since its commencement.
  In no other than this straight forward and fearless way, can I
illustrate and effectually recommend certain springs and princi-
ples of action, which, on all important occasions, have moved
and governed, and, with but few, if any exceptions, benefited me,
since my childhood. Nor can I, in any other mode of proceeding,
make, by means of them, so promising an effort to benefit others.
And, in a case so plain and significant, so essentially connected
with manly independence, and involving the performance of
duties which ought to be held sacred and inviolable-in such a
case, I will not give cause to have myself deemed a delinquent
in any scheme of useful action, from an apprehension of danger
or mischief to myseig in consequence of having engaged in it.
The man who will not, when necessary, incur hazards, for the
sake of acting well his part in life, with a view to the promotion
of the welfare of others, and the acquisition for himself of a
well-founded and lasting reputation, will never achieve success,
much less distinction, in relation to either object. Confirmatory
of this view of the subject, is the well-known apothegm: " No-
thing venture, nothing win." And though the maxim is
expressed in language as homely as it is simple, yet, haviing with-
stood, undiminished in its credit and popularity, the dint of time
and experience, for thousands of years, that fact alone furnishes'




abundant evidence that it is founded in truth. For nothing short
of truth can bear unchanged the sweep of ages.
  To those who have been carefully observant of the progress of
human affairs, and sufficiently retentive of the events it exhibits,
it would be superfluous to offer further proof of the truth of these
remarks. To them, they are abundantly proved by their own ob-
servation and experience. Such individuals know it to be true,
that more or less of hazard to either reputation, standing, influ-
ence, or all of them, is a never-failing concomitant of a resolute and
independent attempt to aid in the production or promotion of strik-
ing and important discoveries and improvements, and of the bene-
fits which result from them-especially if they involve any very
obvious amount of novelty or change in things of long-established
existence and repute-things incorporated with the partialities
and prejudices of the public. And it matters but little whether
the change be in principle or hypothesis, opinion or practice. It
is assailed by opposition and clamorous contradiction, and its
author by denunciation, and, perhaps, persecution. Instances in
proof of this are coeval with the history of man, and have occur-
red with a frequency that cannot be numbered. So truly has it
been remarked, by one of the most sagacious and virtuous of
men, that " envy, detraction, and opposition are a tax, which
every man must pay for an attempt to become eminent;" and,
he might have added, more especially if his attempt prove suc-
cessful. To this maxim I have never either witnessed or heard
of an exception. Every individual that I have ever known, or
been fully informed of, by history or otherwise, who, by his own
talents and exertions, has rendered himself conspicuous and use-
ful, whether by new and unusual means, or by new modes of
employing means already in existence-every such individual
who has, in any way, fallen under my notice, has had to encounter
some form of dissatisfaction and malevolence, especially from
some of his superiors in years, and of those who, because they
are his elders, hold themselves also, as of necessity, his anteriors
and superiors in knowledge and experience. Nor can the case
be otherwise, until such a revolution shall have been produced in
the character of man as to have given to his intellectual and
moral the requisite ascendancy over his animal faculties. Then,
but not before, will the iniquitous proceedings referred to have




an end. Then, but not before, will men look on those, by whose
enterprise and exertions they have been thrown into shade in
reputation, standing, and influence, without envy, heart-burning,
or calumny.
  Does any one, fresh in youth and inexperience, regard this as
a gloomy and censorious report, uttered by the lips of disappoint-
ment and chagrin, and not as a faithful representation of the
events which human society exhibits If so, let him embark in
any pursuit he may choose, and mingle in the bustle of active
and aspiring life, until he shall have attained the maturity and
experience of manhood, and his opinion of it will be changed.
He will acknowledge it then to be neither fiction nor exaggera-
tion; but an unvarnished statement, conceived under the influence
of sound intelligence, and framed in the simplicity and sobriety
of truth. He will then deal in facts and maxims derived from
the storehouse of ripened and substantial knowledge; whereas,
he had previously but sported with anticipations and fancies
drawn from the flowery, but crude and evanescent creations of
  Does any one, actuated by mere curiosity, or by other motives
higher and worthier, or still less defensible, feel inclined to in-
quire, why, under the sombre views and discouraging fore-
thoughts just stated, I have embarked in the precarious and
responsible enterprise of writing the history of my own life, and
of adding to the weight of my responsibility, by embracing in it
the reminiscences of my own time To this question, regarding
it as proposed, I reply, that several considerations have concurred
in involving me in the task.
  1. I have been not only requested, but entreated and impor-
tuned to engage in it, by sundry individuals, who have persuaded
themselves that it may be rendered both interesting and useful,
and who have a claim on my compliance not easily resisted.
  2. No person, but myself, can execute the work, except from
materials furnished by myself. Of this the reason is plain, and
has been, in part, already stated. Of all my contemyoraries, as
heretofore mentioned, none who were my comrades in my early
years, are now living; or, if so, I am a stranger to the fact. And
were they even alive, and brought to the task, there are various



reasons why none of them would be qualified to act as my bio-
  More than half a century has elapsed and done its work since
we separated from each other; they remaining in the region
where we were born, acting as choice or necessity influenced
them; and I removing to a distant one, in eager pursuit of know-
ledge and its concomitants. Since that remote period, therefore,
they have been entire strangers to the events of my life; and
their previous knowledge of me must be swept from their minds
by the checkered and eventful current of time. Nor is this all.
  My books, from the time I was able to read them, and other
sources of useful instruction, were the chief, if not all of my real
companions; while my school-fellows and other acquaintances
were the companions of one another. The end which I held con-
stantly in view, and labored almost exclusively to attain, was
useful knowledge and its applications, together with certain manly
and not inelegant personal accomplishments; while the end at
which they aimed, in fact, though not in pretension, was, to an
unreasonable extent, mere pastime and amusement. And to this
wanton consumption of time corresponded the condition of their
subsequent standing. A youth of idleness was succeeded by a
lifetime, if not of ignorance, of humble mediocrity in science and
  With the few of them, who were at all inclined to cultivate
their minds by scholastic exercises, I occasionally spent hours, at
their own request, chiefly for the purpose of aiding them in their
studies. In affording this aid, I had also in view my own im-
provement; for I became convinced, at an early period of my
life, of the truth and value of the Roman adage: Qui docet,
discit: be who teaches, learns. Not only, therefore, were my
pride and ambition gratified, by an opportunity of showing my
superiority to my fellow-students, by the magisterial process of
instructing them in their lessons; I soon became sensible that
that process added not a little to the accuracy of my ovn scholar-
ship; for every feeling of nature participant of self was concerned
in showing that I possessed an accuracy which enabled me to
explain with readiness difficulties in their tasks that were inex-
plicable to many others, who wer more than my equals in years,
as well as in the time they had spent at school. Nor is it pro-



bable that my accuracy would have been as great as it was, had
I not been proud of exhibiting it; and had I not, on that account,
labored the more steadily and earnestly for its attainment. And
that I might on the same principle, and by similar means, still
further improve it, I became afterwards, for some time, myself
the principal director of an academic institution. To young men,
moreover, who are ambitious to become thorough-bred scholars,
and who may have an opportunity to do so, I recommend the
adoption of a similar measure. During the time I thus employed
myself in teaching others, I improved, in correctness and accu-
racy of scholarship, more than did any pupil under my care. And
every young man, in the capacity of a teacher, may do the same.
In truth, he cannot well fail to do it, provided he possess a suf-
ficiency of self-respect, and be duly sensible of the dignity and
deep responsibility of his office.
  I have said that with my school-fellows, and other acquaint-
ances, especially such of them as were idle and heedless as to the
cultivation of their minds, I never familiarly and cordially asso-
ciated. To this, however, an exception existed. Durihg the
hours regularly set apart for relaxation from study, and free in-
dulgence in corporeal exercise, I was usually in the midst of those
most eagerly and strenuously engaged. In my devotion to this
employment, my design was not merely to escape from my books,
give to my intellect relaxation and rest, and thus somewhat use-
lessly pass away my time; I had objects in view both important and
interesting to me. I aimed at the preservation of health and har-
diness, the augmentation of bodily strength and activity, and the
improvement of myself in certain forms of athletic exercise, which
were regarded as manly and useful accomplishments, and in which
the youth of the place were accustomed to indulge. And, as I
took part in such gymnastics at all, I determined to do so to the
highest practicable effect. I therefore contended for superiority in
them with the same earnestness and resolution which I habitually
manifested in more elevated pursuits. Nor did I fail to convince
myself that ambition, exertion, and perseverance were sure to
prove in both equally the source of excellence and distinction.
No sooner, however, had the time for corporeal exercise and
training expired, than I left the gymnasium, withdrew to the re-




tirement and quietude of my study, and engaged, with renovated
industry and ardor, in the cultivation of my mind.
  After the remarks which have been made, it need hardly be
added that a steady perseverance in the course of action just
described, was not long in giving me, as already intimated, a de-
cided ascendency in scholarship over my less attentive and labo-
rious fellow-students. Nor was that its only effect. With my
teachers it bestowed on me a corresponding elevation in favorit-
ism and standing. Nor did it stop there. It gave me, as a youth,
a highly flattering degree of celebrity in the surrounding country,
and ultimately led to my election at a very early period of life
to the directorship, heretofore alluded to, of a large and respect-
able literary. academy. Such were some of its advantages. But
it had also its disadvantages, which deserve likewise to be men-
tioned; for all things human (especially if selfish feelings be awa-
kened by them) are but a mixture, if not of actual good and evil,
at least of something so closely approaching them as to be pro-
ductive of very analogous effects-of convenience and inconveni-