Mountains adorns his person with the scalps of his butchered enemies; while the more civilized murderer contents himself with adding a ribbon to the decoration of his coat; but both are savages alike. The trader-equally with the soldier seeking to prevent any movement except that which centres in himself also uses irresponsible machines. The sailor is among the most brutalized of human beings, bound, like the soldier, to obey orders, at the risk of having his back seamed by the application of the whip. The human machines used by war and trade are the only ones, except the negro slave, who are now flogged.

The soldier desires labor to be cheap, that recruits may readily be obtained. The great land-owner desires it may be cheap, that he may be enabled to appropriate to himself a large proportion of the proceeds of his land; and the trader desires it to be cheap, that he may be enabled to dictate the terms upon which he will buy as well as those upon which he will sell.

The object of all being thus identical,-that of obtaining power over their fellow-men,-it is no matter of surprise that we find the trader and the soldier so uniformly helping and being helped by each other. The bankers of Rome were as ready to furnish material aid to Cæsar, Pompey, and Augustus, as are now those of London, Paris, Amsterdam, and Vienna to grant it to the Emperors of France, Austria, and Russia; and as indifferent as they in relation to the end for whose attainment it was destined to be used. War and trade thus travel together, as is shown by the history of the world. The only difference between wars made for purposes of conquest, and those for the maintenance of monopolies of trade, being that the virulence of the latter is much greater than is that of the former. The conqueror, seeking political power, is sometimes moved by a desire to improve the condition of his fellow-men; but the trader, in pursuit of power, is animated by no other idea than that of buying in the cheapest market and selling in the dearest, cheapening merchandise in the one, even at the cost of starving the producers, and increasing his price in the other, even at the cost of starving the consumers. Both profit by whatever tends to diminution in the power of voluntary association and consequent decline of commerce. The soldier forbids the holding of meetings among his subjects. The slave-owner interdicts his people from assembling together, except at such times and in such places as meet his approbation. The shipmaster rejoices when the men of England separate from each other, and transport themselves by hundreds of thousands to Canada and Australia, because it enhances freights; and the trader rejoices, because the more widely men are scattered, the more they need the service of the middle-man, and the richer and more powerful does he become at their expense.

SAMUEL G. GOODRICH.

IF any one could claim a place in the pages of this Compendium of American Literature from the number and popularity of his published works, then Samuel G. Goodrich, the renowned "Peter Parley," has a right here above all others. He was born at Ridgefield, Connecticut, on the 19th of August, 1793, and in early life commenced the publication of historical, geographical, and other school-books, at Hartford, in his native State, and subsequently became, in the same department, a writer so prolific, that it was no easy task to compute the number of his published works.1 In 1824, on his return from Europe, he published "The Token," a collection of original pieces in prose and poetry, by various contributors, and elegantly illustrated. It was the first "Annual," we believe, that appeared in our country, and it became very popular. It was continued for fifteen years, and many of the poems and tales in it were written by himself.

Besides his almost numberless compilations, Mr. Goodrich has published the following original works:-In 1836, Sketches from a Student's Window, being a collection of his contributions to "The Token" and various magazines; in 1838, Fireside Education; in 1841, The Outcast, and other Poems; in 1856, Recollections of a Lifetime, or Men and Things I have Seen, in two volumes. From the latter I have made the following prose selections:

TIMOTHY DWIGHT.

Dr. Dwight was perhaps even more distinguished in conversation than in the pulpit. He was indeed regarded as without a rival in this respect; his knowledge was extensive and various, and his language eloquent, rich, and flowing. His fine voice and noble person gave great effect to what he said. When he spoke, others were silent. This arose in part from the superiority of his powers, but in part also from his manner, which was somewhat authoritative. Thus he engrossed, not rudely, but with the willing assent of those around him, the lead in conversation. Nevertheless, I must remark that in society the imposing grandeur of his personal appearance in the pulpit was softened by a general blandness of expression and a sedulous courtesy of manner, which

1 The number of works that Mr. Goodrich has published, either written, compiled, or edited by himself, is so great that the very catalogue would fill two pages of my book. For a full account of the same, and also for a list of spurious works that have been claimed to be written by him, see the appendix to the second volume of his Recollections of a Lifetime. They may be summed up as follows:-Miscellaneous Works, including fourteen volumes of "The Token," thirty volumes; School-Books, twenty-seven volumes; Tales, under the name of Peter Parley," thirty-six volumes; Parley's Historical Compends, thirty-six volumes; Parley's Miscellanies, seventy volumes: in all, one hundred and seventy-seven volumes. "Of all these," he says, "about seven millions of volumes have been sold; and about three hundred thousand volumes are now sold annually."

were always conciliating, and sometimes really captivating. His smile was irresistible.

In reflecting upon this good and great man, and reading his works in after-time, I am still impressed with his general superiority, his manly intellect, his vast range of knowledge, and his large heart; yet I am persuaded that, on account of his noble person, the perfection of the visible man, he exercised a power in his day and generation somewhat beyond the natural scope of his mental endowments. Those who only read his works cannot fully realize the impression which he made upon the age in which he lived. His name is still honored; many of his works still live. His "Body of Divinity" takes the precedence, not only here, but in England, over all works of the same kind and the same doctrine; but at the period to which I refer, he was regarded with a species of idolatry by those around him. Even the pupils of the college under his presidential charge-those who are not usually inclined to hero-worship-almost adored him. To this day, those who had the good fortune to receive their education under his auspices look back upon it as a great era in

their lives.

There was indeed reason for this. With all his greatness in other respects, Dr. Dwight seems to have been more particularly felicitous as the teacher, the counsellor, the guide, of educated young men. In the lecture-room, all his high and noble qualities seemed to find their full scope. He did not here confine himself to merely scientific instruction: he gave lessons in morals and manners, and taught, with a wisdom which experience and common sense only could have furnished, the various ways to insure success in life. He gave lectures upon health,-the art of maintaining a vigorous constitution with the earnest pursuit of professional duties, citing his own example, which consisted in laboring every day in the garden, when the season permitted, and at other times at some mechanical employment. He recommended that in intercourse with mankind, his pupils should always converse with each individual upon that subject in which he was most instructed, observing that he never met a man of whom he could not learn something. He gave counsel suited to the various professions to those who were to become clergymen, he imparted the wisdom which he had gathered by a life of long and active experience; he counselled those who were to become lawyers, physicians, merchants, and all with a fulness of knowledge and a felicity of illustration and application, as if he had actually spent a life in each of these vocations. And more than this: he sought to infuse into the bosom of all that high principle which served to inspire his own soul, that is, to be always a gentleman, taking St. Paul as his model. He considered not courtesy only, but

truth, honor, manliness in all things, as essential to this character. Every kind of meanness he despised. Love of country was the constant theme of his eulogy. Religion was the soul of his system. God was the centre of gravity, and man should make the moral law as inflexible as the law of nature. Seeking to elevate all to this sphere, he still made its orbit full of light, the light of love, and honor, and patriotism, and literature, and ambition,all verging towards that fulness of glory which earth only reflects and heaven only can unfold.

THE RURAL DISTRICTS OUR COUNTRY'S STRENGTH.

The importance of the progress and improvement of the country towns is plain, when we consider that here, and not in the great cities, New York, or Boston, or Philadelphia,-are the hope, strength, and glory of our nation. Here, in the smaller towns and villages, are indeed the majority of the people, and here there is a weight of sober thought, just judgment, and virtuous feeling, that will serve as rudder and ballast to our country, whatever weather may betide.

As I have so recently travelled through some of the finest and most renowned portions of the European continent, I find myself constantly comparing the towns and villages which I see here with those foreign lands. One thing is clear, that there are in continental Europe no such country towns and villages as those of New England and some other portions of this country. Not only the exterior but the interior is totally different. The villages there resemble the squalid suburbs of a city; the people are like their houses,-poor and subservient,-narrow in intellect, feeling, and habits of thought. I know twenty towns in France, having from two to ten thousand inhabitants, where, if you except the prefects, mayors, notaries, and a few other persons in each place, there is scarcely a family that rises to the least independence of thought, or even a moderate elevation of character. All the power, all the thought, all the genius, all the expanse of intellect, are centred at Paris. The blood of the country is drawn to this seat and centre, leaving the limbs and members cold and pulseless as those of a corpse.

How different is it in this country! The life, vigor, power of these United States are diffused through a thousand veins and arteries over the whole people, every limb nourished, every member invigorated! New York, Philadelphia, and Boston do not give law to this country; that comes from the people-the farmers, mechanics, manufacturers, merchants-independent in their circumstances, and sober, religious, virtuous in their habits of thought and conduct. I make allowance for the sinister

influence of vice which abounds in some places; for the debasing effects of demagogism in our politicians; for the corruption of selfish and degrading interests, cast into the general current of public feeling and opinion. I admit that these sometimes make the nation swerve, for a time, from the path of wisdom; but the wandering is neither wide nor long. The preponderating national mind is just and sound, and, if danger comes, it will manifest its power and avert it.

BOSTON IN 1824.

In 1824, Boston was notoriously the literary metropolis of the Union, the admitted Athens of America. Edward Everett had given permanency to the "North American Review;" and though he had just left the editorial chair, his spirit dwelt in it, and his fame lingered around it. Richard H. Dana, Edward T. Channing, Jared Sparks, George Bancroft, and others, were among the rising lights of the literary horizon. The newspaper press presented the witty and caustic "Galaxy," edited by Buckingham; the dignified and scholarly "Daily Advertiser," conducted by Nathan Hale; and the frank, sensible, manly "Centinel," under the editorial patriarch, Benjamin Russell. Channing was in the pulpit and Webster at the forum. Society was strongly impressed with literary tastes; genius was respected and cherished; a man, in those days, who had achieved a literary fame, was at least equal to a president of a bank, or a treasurer of a manufacturing company. The pulpit shone bright and far, with the light of scholarship radiated from the names of Beecher, Greenwood, Pierpont, Lowell, Palfrey, Doane, Stone, Frothingham, Gannett: the bar also reflected the glory of letters through H. G. Otis, Charles Jackson, William Prescott, Benjamin Gorham, Willard Phillips, James T. Austin, among the older members, and Charles G. Loring, Charles P. Curtis, Richard Fletcher, Theophilus Parsons, Franklin Dexter, J. Quincy, Jr., Edward G. Loring, Benjamin R. Curtis, among the younger. The day had not yet come when it was glory enough for a college professor to marry a hundred thousand dollars of stocks, or when it was the chief end of a lawyer to become the attorney of an insurance company, or a bank, or a manufacturing corporation. Corporations, without souls, had not yet become the masters and moulders of the soul of society. Books with a Boston imprint had a prestige equal to a certificate of good paper, good print, good binding, and good matter. And while such was the state of things at Boston, how was it at New York? Why, all this time the Harpers, who till recently had been mere printers in Dover Street, had scarcely entered upon their career as publishers, and the Appletons, Put