CHAPTER XVII.

A. D. 1817. Et. 42.

Affairs of the College-Dr. Mason's Provostship-Causes of Failure-Abolition of the Office-Presidency of Dr. HarrisCharacter-Bishop Hobart and Dr. Mason compared-Traits of Character exhibited by Bishop Hobart in the Board of Trustees -Anecdotes illustrative-Character as given by the Rev. W. R. W.-Visitation of the Diocese-Letter from Dr. ButlerAdmiration of nature-Brevity of Visits-Rapidity-Duties in the Diocese of New-Jersey; of Connecticut-Acknowledg

ment.

In the year 1817, the affairs of Columbia College again called forth the energies of Bishop Hobart. The experiment against which he had protested six years before, was now approaching its unsuccessful termination. All the Trustees felt that Dr. Mason must retire, and most were willing to acknowledge that they had been greatly disappointed in him. It was, however, a trying situation in which he had been placed. A sphere of duty which he had himself sought, and invested with all the powers he had himself asked, to effect a reformation which he had himself planned.

To report a failure of such a man, under such a pledge, is mortifying to the pride and confidence of genius—but even so it was.

Amid all her richest gifts, nature had denied to the new ruler that love of patient labour which the duties of his station imperatively required, and habit had never made good what nature, in this respect, had left deficient in his character. Having always lived as a free man, he loved not the drudgery of office; the limitation of prescribed hours was an annoyance to him; the detail of academic duty a burthen, and one, after a short time, so impatiently

borne, as very naturally to inspire his students with the same feelings, and make them hold light what they saw to be lightly valued. His heart, in short, was not in his work, to the intellectual labourer a fatal want, for it is one which no sleight can cover, no talent counterbalance, and which shows itself more and more as novelty wears off from new employments, or the flash of enthusiasm passes away, and nature returns to its ordinary wont.

Thus was it with Dr. Mason, -he entered upon his academic duties with a hurried and intemperate zeal, which soon ran into coolness, and finally ended in neglect.

Even in the light of a disciplinarian, where his talents were most counted upon, even here, his mind was found not to be of the right stamp. He mistook dogmatism for decision, violence for energy, and laxity for mildness, forgetting that the only successful discipline of youth results from the union of steadiness with gentleness: 'Non vi sed sæpe cadendo.' Hence it was that his provostship, in this respect, disappointed the expectation both of friends and foes:-in the language of the Roman historian, 'all would have held him worthy to reign had he not reigned' Omnium consensu capax imperii nisi imperasseta.'

It was thus, after six years of fruitless, because heartless labour, on his part, and of increasing dissatisfaction on that of the Trustees, that he sent in his resignation. This was promptly accepted; the temporary and illomened office created for him was abolished; the duties of his station reunited to the presidency, and its already nominal incumbent, Dr. Harris, invested with his rightful authority.

Of the twelve years' charge of this unassuming man, it may be permitted to one who knew him well, to say that his quiet unobtrusive course of silent usefulness, followed the higher pretensions of his predecessor, like the fertilizing stream the splendid but fruitless torrent.

a Tacitus in Galba.

But they both have gone, and while it becomes not those to scan, who have their own account to render, yet may all, doubtless, hence learn a consolatory and awakening lesson. Of the good it is permitted man to do on earth, how little depends on superior genius! how much upon patient, well-directed industry! While we lament, therefore, that we possess not the former, let us beware, lest we waste in idle lamentation the true talent we do hold, and for which we are to render an account.

In the prosperity of the college Bishop Hobart continued, through life, to take the warmest interest, and to exercise at its Board that increasing influence which years and experience always give to the truly sagacious and strictly honourable mind. In that respect his fate was happier than his with whom he was so often called upon to contend.

Dr. Mason, at the Board, was essentially a talking man; Bishop Hobart a working man, and it will generally be found that in all collective or deliberative bodies, the first rules only until the second appears; men listen to the one and follow the other; the moral energy of action, in the long run, rules men's minds far beyond the intellectual energy of reasoning. This was the basis of Bishop Hobart's influence. It was not his skill in debate, but the confidence reposed in his practical wisdom, in the sagacity of his views, the decision of his purposes, and the untiring fidelity with which he laboured in whatever duty he undertook.

Such are the qualities to which men ever look up in doubt or emergency; plain, sterling, working qualities, partaking, moreover, of the heart even more than of the head. Without these, 'cleverness is a mischievous possession, wit but an empty flash, and even wisdom an inoperative and useless dream.'

How much the qualities of heart added to Bishop Hobart's influence in that body, those who there knew him can best tell,-and even those who knew him any where,

can easily imagine. Fairness, frankness, and straightforwardness, always marked his course. What he thought honestly, he spoke plainly-his heart and his tongue were companions that travelled together, so that neither friend nor opponent was ever left in doubt where to find him. Sarcasm in debate he could use, but did most rarely. Nothing seems ever to have provoked him to it but duplicity and meanness.

Hearing on one occasion, that in a warm debate in the Board, contrary to his wont, he had treated with scorn an opponent, whose attachment to the college was even more than questionable, the author ventured to inquire his motive;-'Sir,' said he, there are some men whom it is needful to let feel your power-and he is one of them.'

On all other occasions, the kindliness of his nature shone forth, and saved the feelings of his opponent amid all attacks upon his argument. His zeal, therefore, however highly excited, had no rancour in it, his opposition no bitterness; few ever heard him say a harsh word,— none an unkind one; and whenever warmth of controversy struck forth a spark, or what to his sensitive spirit appeared such, he seemed to feel no peace in his bosom until he had made personal acknowledgment, and solicited and obtained full forgiveness.

One or two instances of this, taken from the mouth of the narrators, may, for their truth and very simplicity, claim place in such a domestic narrative as this.

On one occasion, under the concurrence of many exciting causes, he answered a friend, in debate, in haste and heat. His friend was silent from respect but felt deeply hurt, for it was the first time he had heard such words from his lips. This friend had scarce reached his home, after the adjournment of the Board, and seated himself alone in his library, before the door opened, and Bishop Hobart entered with his quick, earnest step and manner, and both hands extended toward his friend, while he uttered, warmly and hurriedly, these words ;'Forgive me, my dear friend, forgive me; I was wrong

I was very much to blame.' It is needless to add that friend was his own for ever.

Another anecdote, exhibiting the same trait, will be best given in the words of the narrator. 'We had differed,' says his son-in-law, in a note to the author, 'on a question relating to the General Theological Seminary, and he, thinking me a little pertinacious in my course, gave me what he afterward considered a sharp and unauthorized rebuke. At an early hour the next morning he called upon me, saying that he had passed a sleepless night in consequence of what he had said to me, and could not rest until he had confessed that he was wrong. 'I was not more struck,' he adds, with the act of conciliation than with the affectionate and childlike simplicity with which it was done.'

Among the letters, unfortunately not valued at the time as they now would be, and, therefore, not preserved, was one of this character, addressed to a long-tried friend in the Board of Trustees, on a similar occasion, who, not only feeling, but showing himself hurt by the Bishop's warmth, received from him, the next day, a letter, so full and ardent, that he seemed to pour out his very heart in the expressions of his affectionate regret.

These instances illustrate that part of Bishop Hobart's character which, as already observed, made all men love him,-an affectionate heart with an almost childlike simplicity of manner. The influence this gave him in private life was irresistible. One instance fell within the knowledge of the writer.

A Mr. C., of New-York, who, without any personal acquaintance with the Bishop, had, from popular prejudice, taken up a strong dislike to him, incidentally became his travelling companion in one of his visitations to the west. Three days' stage intercourse sufficed, not only to soften, but, as it were, to new stamp him. His subsequent language, to one who presumed on his

b Bishop Ives.