every danger. We cannot, indeed, my dear son, be grateful enough to a heavenly Father who has hitherto so particularly favoured us; but I hope we may not be wholly insensible of the numberless instances of his care and protection. That the Almighty may still continue his goodness to us all, and particularly guard and preserve my dear John from all danger, is the sincere prayer of his affectionate parent,

HANNAH HOBART.

P. S. Do take care and guard yourself against taking cold when you travel; be sure you take your surtout, even if it is not cold, it will keep you warm and dry, and I hope it will not be long before you can get a new one. I fear my dear John, you make yourself too uneasy on account of the danger you think we are in. We are all well yet, and have no reason to think we are more unsafe now than we have been. It is proper to be sure to use every prudent precaution, but I hope all our fears are not well founded. In travelling, be careful you do not go to any house where the disorder is or has been, and keep a prudent distance from persons that you do not know.

I cannot help telling you, my dear John, how highly I was gratified in hearing you have established such a character at college. Dr. Smith spoke of you to Mr. Smith, and to your sister, in terms of the highest commendation; he could not have said more in praise of any one, and you may be sure I do not doubt your deserving it.

Monday Morning.'

After this letter, the reader will not be surprised to learn, that maternal anxiety provided for him the means of avoiding all risk from public stages, and that his brotherin law's chair and clerk were soon after despatched to Princeton for him, bringing him in safety to his anxious mother, at her temporary home in Frankfort. But this is anticipating the conclusion of a two year's residence, which deserves a fuller record.

It were not easy to find a more pleasing picture of college life, than is exhibited in his own and his companions' boyish letters already alluded to; young Hobart's especially, are full of gaiety of heart, and warm generous

emotions. Life was in its spring, and the world was all bright around him, but more especially that little world in which he then dwelt. Princeton was an Athens to him, and its groves as those of Hecademus. His professors were sages, and the class a philosophic band of brothers. Such is their romantic tone, but still, however, coloured by an ardent fancy, it must assuredly have been to him a scene of great enjoyment, and no less improvement, and speaks much for the talent and good sense of those by whom the college was at that time governed.

Among the greatest sources to him of both, was the academic association of the students, known under the name of the Whig Society; which, together with its rival, the Clio, still continues, it is understood, to call forth in zealous competition, the best talents of Nassau Hall. It may be concluded he would not be backward in joining one of them. One of his earliest letters says, 'I daily experience the advantages of my situation; and, my dear Mamma, you may rest assured that no endeavours of mine shall be wanting. Within these few days, I have entered one of the societies, and am confident that the improvement I shall derive from it will nearly equal that from the college.'

The honours and prosperity of the one with which he connected himself, constitute one of his most favourite themes, while the zeal and ardour with which he advocates its cause, displays not only his own character, but the influence which such institutions are calculated to exercise over the excitable mind of youth; and, if well directed, may exercise to the best ends. With young Hobart, the impression left was never effaced; and in after life he not only often recurred to this period as one of peculiar happiness and profitable labour, but in the character of trustee of another college, warmly urged the liberal patronage of similar societies of the students, from the vivid recollection of the benefits he had himself derived from them. In none probably of our colleges have they ope

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rated either more powerfully or more beneficially than in the one with which he was now connected, being not only recognised, but cherished by the academic authorities, and their literary rivalry excited by the recognition of membership in the annual distribution of college honours. To one of his absent companions, he thus writes the news of a doubtful victory: "The examination of the junior class is over; the honours given out as follows: How (Whig), Latin Salutatory; Hutcheson (Clio), English Salutatory; Green, (C.), Brown (W.), Heister (C.), Kollock (C.), Elmendorf (C.), Polhemus (C.), Intermediates. The superiority of the Whigs would have been greater, if Ker, one of the first in the class, had not gone home last spring, and Keese, another valuable member, been sick; they would both have received very high honours; but even as it is, the Whigs bear off the palm— our Society is confessedly superior.' If, in the case of others, he entered with such warmth into its interests, it may naturally be presumed the question became more exciting when he found himself held up as the representative of their strength. On this occasion, the contest appears to have been more than usually animated. While young Hobart stood forth by acclamation as the champion of the Whigs, the Clios were represented by a young Virginian of the name of Bennet Taylor; no unworthy competitor, as it would seem, on the score of merit, and certainly one of equal devotion to the honours of his clan. The weighty decision of the first honour, the Latin Salutatory, long hung in suspense. The Senatus Academicus were understood to be equally divided-one half voting for Hobart, the other for Taylor. At the head of the first stood his friend the vice-president, whose opinion carried great weight; the other was led by the senior professor, Dr. Minto, an old gentleman, who added to a very sound judgment, great zeal, and long experience. Neither party being willing to give way, and no means as it would seem being provided for the decision of such a case, they resorted, it is said, to the summary but very

unclassical procedure of the tossing up of a coin. As it rose in the air, Dr. Smith, as if to secure the omen, cried out, 'Heads for Hobart,' and heads it was. The result may be best told in the words of the youthful victor. 'Mr. Taylor was not satisfied with this decision of the faculty. He communicated his sentiments to Dr. Smith, and endeavoured to make it appear to him that the Latin Salutatory, which fell to my lot, would place me in the opinion of the audience above him. Dr. Smith accordingly mentioned this circumstance to me, and intimated that as I could speak the Valedictory, and Mr. Taylor could not, he thought it would be an act of candour in me to relinquish the Salutatory, and take the other.' Had it been any but a 'Clio' that was to enjoy it, young Hobart's heart would probably have given way under such an appeal; but the Whig' was strong within him, and he replied in the spirit of all conquerors, 'I will not give up an oration which has fairly and honourably fallen to my lot.' The 'musa pedestris' of Princeton was, it seems, awakened by this long protracted contest; and if 'Clio' descended, as the letters charge her with doing, to personal inveetive, something unquestionably must be pardoned to the wounded feelings of the losing party from whom chance, not merit, had wrested away an equal prize. Alluding to these attacks, young Hobart thus concludes his letter to an absent 'Whig:' 'Resentment at his conduct lives not in my bosom; I remember it only to relate it to you, and would have it go no further.' But alas! for the vanity of human ambition. The Latin Salutatory thus eagerly sought after was never delivered. In the summer of this year, (1793,) as already mentioned, the yellow fever first appeared in our country, breaking out in Philadelphia a short time previous to the Commencement exercises at Princeton. This new enemy drove out all other thoughts than those of safety, from the minds both of victors and vanquished. The authorities of the college took the alarm, its inmates were dispersed-the public Commencement in fright dispensed with, and the academic honour,

thus long sought and earnestly contended for, announced but to the ears of a trembling few, to whom it conveyed no new information, and whose thoughts were even then intent on other things. Sic transit gloria mundi.'

But this narrative awakens another reflection. How are we to estimate among the means of a sound education, the academic competition which runs into such eager contest? Is it favourable, on the whole, to the formation of a manly character? Does it not, on the contrary, tend to weaken the moral principle, by habituating the mind to stronger stimulants than those of mere duty? Does it not lead to the substitution of the spirit of party, in place of individual reason and conscience? These are questions certainly not easily answered, and deserve, in our country more particularly, to be well weighed, since these anticipated results go to cherish the very evils which threaten to work our political ruin. But setting this aside, even in the individual character, may not the sharpening of talent, and the acquisition of knowledge, be too dearly bought with the formation of such enfeebling propensities. Their influence, however, on the mind of Bishop Hobart, may be estimated lightly, for he carried with him through life a certain individuality of character, which instead of receiving impressions from without, was continually stamping them on all around. In the features of his mind there was what artists term sharpness, one of those decisive marks by which the original, in painting, is always to be distinguished from the copy, and the clay model from the plaster cast. No man that knew Bishop Hobart at any period of his life, but must have seen this; that his character, whatever estimate might be formed of it, was one struck off by the hand of nature, having in it such persuasive force, that his sentiments and example were continually taking hold on the hearts and conduct of those with whom he associated, leaving them (few but will acknowledge) wiser and better than he found them. Working on such a mind, competition may certainly go far