And again,--

"If offences be committed in which there are many actors or

abettors, the faculty may select _such of the offenders for

punishment as may be deemed necessary to maintain the

authority of the laws, and to preserve good order in the

college_, &c."

It is always found more easy to make laws, than to have them well

executed. This is, in fact, usually the great difficulty, and formed,

very properly, a subject of deliberation in the Convention. No light

was, however, shed upon it, and the most visionary sentiments were

elicited, denying the necessity of any discipline whatever in the higher

schools. Whenever a number of youths are thrown together within a small

compass, other rules become necessary besides those of the land. The

_esprit du corps_, the influence of bad example afforded by a few, lead

to the commission of offences that demand interposition; accordingly, in

every intelligent and sound thinking community, certain transgressions,

such as gambling, drinking, disorderly behaviour, habits of expense and

dissoluteness, and incorrigible idleness, have been esteemed to merit

serious collegiate reprehension.

Of the different kinds of government adopted in universities, we shall

mention those only which prevail in the United States. The authority is

generally vested in a president and faculty, the former having the power

of inflicting minor punishments; the major punishments requiring the

sanction of the latter. With the president the power is vested of

deciding whether any case is deserving the one or the other. An

objection has been urged against this system, that if the president be

of a timid, vacillating disposition, he may keep every case from the

faculty, and in this there is some truth; he is, however, responsible to

the trustees, and hence it can rarely happen that he will exercise

ill-judged lenity; this danger too, is greatly abated, provided the

faculty be allowed collateral jurisdiction, and can act on cases of

which he has not taken cognizance. If he has already acted, it would be

obviously improper that any additional jurisdiction should be

exercised--in accordance with the common law maxim--that no man can be

put in jeopardy twice for the same offence.

If such discretionary power be not granted to the presiding officer, he

will have to carry every case before the faculty; and thus his office

will be merely nominal, for it would be utterly impracticable to define,

with any accuracy, the cases that must fall under his dominion,

distinctly from those to be assigned for the animadversion of the

faculty.

It has been fancifully presumed, that the students themselves might be

induced to form a part of the government--to constitute a court for the

trial of minor offences, and to inflict punishment on a delinquent

colleague; and, further, that their co-operation might react

beneficially in the prevention of transgressions. The scheme has a

republican appearance, but experience has sufficiently shown that it is

impracticable. In the first printed copy of the enactments of the

University of Virginia, (1825) we find the following.

"The major punishments of expulsion from the university, temporary

suspension of attendance and presence there, or interdiction of

residence or appearance within its precincts, shall be decreed by the

professors themselves. Minor cases may be referred to a board of six

censors, to be named by the faculty, from among the most discreet of the

students, whose duty it shall be, sitting as a board, to inquire into

the facts, propose the minor punishment which they think proportioned to

the offence, and to make report thereof to the professors for their

approbation or their commutation of the penalty, if it be beyond the

grade of the offence. These censors shall hold their offices until the

end of the session of their appointment, if not sooner revoked by the

faculty." But in the next edition of the enactments, (1827) we find that

no such law exists; hence we conclude, that the experiment had met with

the usual unsuccessful issue. So long, indeed, as the _esprit du corps_

or _Burschenschaft_ prevails amongst students, which inculcates, that it

is a stigma of the deepest hue to give testimony against a

fellow-student, it is vain for us to expect any co-operation in the

discipline of the institution from them. This "loose principle in the

ethics of schoolboy combinations," as it has been termed by Mr.

Jefferson, has indeed led to numerous and serious evils. It has been a

great cause of the combinations formed in resistance of the lawful

authorities, of intemperate addresses at the instigation of some

unworthy member, and to repeated scenes of commotion and violence, and

cannot be too soon laid aside. Sooner or later, it must yield to the

improved condition of public feeling; and we cannot but regret to see

the slightest and most indirect sanction given to it in the regulations

of a university, which has made so many useful innovations in systems of

instruction and discipline, that have been perpetuated by the prejudices

of ages. The law to which we allude is the following:--"When testimony

is required from a student, it shall be voluntary and not on oath, and

the obligation to give it, shall be left to his own sense of right."

No youth hesitates to depose in a court of justice touching an offence

against the municipal laws of his country, committed by a brother

student. The youth and the people at large, are, indeed, distinguished

for their ready attention to the calls of justice. Yet it is esteemed

the depth of dishonour to testify when called upon by the college

authorities, against the grossest violator not only of collegiate but

municipal law, as if it could be less honourable to give the same

testimony before one tribunal than another; or the morality of the act

differed in the two cases.

This erroneous principle, which leads to the separation of so many

promising individuals from the universities, threatens their reputation

and prosperity, injures the cause and saps the very foundation of

education, prevails in some countries, and in some portions of this

country more than in others. In some of the most respectable of our own

colleges, it is made a duty to give evidence under pain of the highest

punishments; and in some of those in which the _esprit du corps_ has

prevailed to the greatest extent, it has given occasion to the adoption,

by the faculty, of the monstrous alternative of selecting persons on

bare suspicion, or at random, and punishing them under the expectation

that the real delinquent might exhibit himself. A law of this kind

prevails in the college of William and Mary, in Virginia. "In any case

of disorderly conduct within the college, in which students are

concerned, every student in college at the time, whether he be a

resident therein or not, shall be considered as a principal and treated

accordingly, unless he can show his innocence." It has also been

proposed to get over this difficulty, with regard to testimony, by

establishing a law court at the university, of which the law professor,

for example, might be judge, and the jury be constituted of the

inhabitants of the vicinity. This tribunal to possess the ordinary

jurisdiction of courts of law, and of course, empowered to require

testimony on oath from the student. Such might be a valuable adjunct to

the powers ordinarily possessed by the faculties of our colleges.

The majority of the convention, seem manifestly to have been in favour

of what they term _Parental Discipline_; but we are left to conjecture

how much this embraces. If it be meant, in the language of Meiners, that

"the academical authorities should bear to the students the relation of

fathers as well as of judges; that they should not only punish, but

entreat, admonish, advise, warn, and reprove"--no one will dispute the

propriety of the system. It is, in fact, that which is introduced into

our best institutions.

"The governors and instructors," say the laws of Harvard, "earnestly

desire that the students may be influenced to good conduct and literary

exertion, by higher motives than the fear of punishment; but when such

motives fail, the faculty will have recourse to friendly caution and

warning, fines, solemn admonition, and official notice of delinquency to

parents or guardians; and where the nature and circumstances of the case

require it, to suspension, dismission, rustication, or expulsion." But

important as may be the reformation of an offender, and interesting as

it is to see the wild and the thoughtless restored to the paths of

rectitude, it is obvious, that the prime object of discipline is less

such reformation than the advantage to others; and if in the collegiate,

as in the corporeal economy, an offending member should endanger the

safety of the whole fabric, it will have to be removed. A man is not

sent to the penitentiary merely because he has stolen a sheep, but in

order that sheep may not be stolen. The term parental discipline, in

fact, is most undefined; it includes the most discrepant and the most

heterogeneous modes of correction. Solitary confinement, sitting in a

corner, whipping, are used according to circumstances; but we presume

none of these punishments were contemplated by the Convention.

Most of the speakers seem to have been of opinion, that the parental

system of intercourse, such as a wise father would maintain with his

son, is best adapted for instruction and discipline in our colleges.

Such a course would be manifestly impracticable where the number of

students is considerable, and is of doubtful policy in all. The

professor should, indeed, be kind, courteous, and affable; conciliating

and ready to afford every information; but we doubt whether either

discipline or instruction is aided by constant and familiar intercourse.

There should be a certain distance maintained between pupil and

preceptor; but no presumption, no affected dignity on the part of the

latter; and under such circumstances every thing will be better effected

than where the communication is closer and less unrestrained.

But the great dread entertained by these gentlemen, has been towards the

infliction of disgrace; yet no punishment, whatever, can be awarded,

without more or less of this. It is a disgrace to an offender to be

reprimanded; to be dismissed from the schoolroom for a time; to be sent

away from the institution; the good, however, of the rest requires it,

and it is pseudo-philanthropy to repine. One point canvassed in the

Convention and connected with this subject, requires notice. "Whether a

student who has been dismissed from one institution ought to be refused

admittance into any other? There is a general understanding amongst the

colleges of the United States, that no student thus separated from one,

shall be received into another, unless he be so far restored to favour

as to be able to obtain from his college what is termed a regular

dismissal." (Journal, p. 145.) Unconditional refusal to admit, appears to

us to be a rule which can allow of but little justification. Meiners

observes, that "those who come from other universities ought to bring

certificates that they have not been expelled. If merely dismissed, they

may be admitted,--but then they should be narrowly watched." It would,

however, be barbarous to exclude even an expelled student, provided he

could produce satisfactory evidence of his return to rectitude. It is a

good practice to make the matriculation, under such circumstances,

difficult; and to require a sufficient period of probation before he is

permitted to join the university. The University of Virginia, has no

comity in this respect with the other institutions of the Union. It has

followed the only rational plan; ordaining--"that no person who has been

a student at any other incorporated seminary, shall be received at that

university, but on producing a certificate from such seminary, or _other

satisfactory evidence_, to the faculty, with respect to his general good

conduct." A no less important regulation would be, to exclude those of

notoriously idle or dissolute habits, and yet who had never been at any

incorporated seminary.

But Mr. Hasler is of opinion, and in this he is joined by Dr. Wolf, and,

so far as we can judge, from the published speech of Mr. Woodbridge, by

that gentleman also,--that little or no control is necessary over the

students who resort to universities. The paper from the pen of that

gentleman, in the Journal before us, bears the stamp of visionary

enthusiasm; exhibits, we think, clearly a total deficiency of

experience, and is

"A fine sample, on the whole,

Of rhetoric, which the learn'd call rigmarole."

"Against this liberal discipline," he remarks, "the example

of the Virginia university has very erroneously been alleged

by way of disapprobation, or as a failure: it affords no

proof of that kind. The erroneous system of collegiate life

has been preserved in it. The locality is insulated, and the

constant sameness of the company, of fellow-students only,

produces the bad results of tedious and too close influence

between the student, even with the professors. Besides that,

the architect of that building, the well informed,

philosophical, and amiable Jefferson, died before it was

finished; for the construction of such an institution is not

finished, with the walls that enclose its lecture rooms, or

the dwellings; the organization can only be the result of

several years actual activity of the institution,

particularly when the plan is novel in the place where it is

established. To this is still to be added, that the

professors appointed there, were all accustomed to the

collegiate life, and therefore not likely of such

dispositions as to be proper secundents to the liberal plans

of the original founder." P. 265.

Without pointing out the numerous minor errors that pervade this

paragraph, we may remark, that Mr. Hasler is manifestly uninformed

regarding the condition of the institution to which he alludes. We have

every reason for believing, that the discipline of the University of

Virginia, is equal to that which prevails in any institution of the

Union. The evils of bad discipline, occasioned by the want of sufficient

and efficient rules, were speedily experienced there. The objections

felt by the board of visiters to over-legislation, led to an opposite

error; whilst undue dependence was placed upon the effect that might be

produced from the participation of the students themselves in the

judicial power. Accordingly, we find, from the supplement to the printed

enactments, that it became necessary to tighten the reins of authority

during the very first session.

It has often been remarked, that owing to the feeble domestic discipline

which ordinarily prevails in the United States, the youth, particularly

of the southern parts of the Union, require a different mode of

management from those of other countries. There does not appear to be

the slightest foundation for this vulgar error. Young men, as well as

adults, are much alike over the whole civilized globe; and if it be

found that mild measures are ineffectual, recourse must be had to more

severe every where: and in all cases, the laws, where needed, must be

executed temperately, unhesitatingly, and firmly.

It has been said, that certain offences are esteemed as such in all

institutions: of these, perhaps the most fatal are gambling and

drinking. Both exert their baneful effects upon the morals, habits, and

application of the student; and it is difficult to say, which is the

most to be deprecated. The general evils produced upon society by their

indulgence, it is as unnecessary as it would be out of place, to depict.

It is only as regards their influence on college life and discipline,

that they concern us at present.

Habits of gambling should lead to immediate separation of the offender;

they are rarely abandoned; whilst they are as pernicious to the student

himself, as they are likely to be by evil example to others. Gaming is

one of the offences that require a collegiate, in addition to the

municipal law. Under this head are included all those, which, from their

seductive character, are apt to engross the time of the student, or to

lead to parental loss and inconvenience, as cards, dice, billiards, &c.

Serious, however, as we must necessarily esteem the offence of gambling,

it is, if possible, less so than habits of drinking. The latter is not

an evil which entails with it so much pecuniary difficulty, but it is

apt to lead to the former, and to every other loathsome vice. Few

professed drunkards are reclaimed; and even should they be, the valuable

time lost in youth in these indulgences, renders the youth subsequently

unfit for the reception of moral and intellectual culture; hence he

remains in after life debased and vicious, exhibiting merely the wreck

of his previous intellect. Both these weighty offences may, in some

measure, be checked by wisely devised sumptuary laws. In all well

regulated universities, such endeavours have been directed to restrain

the expenditure of the students.

The _Credit Gesetre_ of Goettingen occupy a space of twenty-two octavo

pages in the work of Meiners. At Harvard, (and we take this in our

references to institutions on the old system of instruction, as being

one of the longest established of those that receive resident students,)

every student who belongs to places more than one hundred miles distant

from Cambridge, is compelled to have a patron, appointed by the

corporation, who has charge of all his funds, and disburses them under

the regulations of the establishment. For this duty, he receives from

the student six dollars a year as a compensation. In the University of

Virginia, the proctor is the patron; and it is enacted, that "no

student, resident within the precincts, shall matriculate, till he shall

have deposited with the proctor all the money, checks, bills, drafts,

and other available funds, which he shall have in his possession or

under his control, in any manner intended to defray his expenses whilst

a student of the university, or on his return from thence to his

residence." On this the proctor is allowed a commission of 2 per cent.

To ensure a more faithful compliance with this and other enactments on

the subject, each student, about to leave the university, is required to

sign a written declaration that he has made such deposit; or if not, to

state the sum withheld, and the proctor is entitled to the same

commission upon that sum as if it had been deposited. But if the student

refuses to give such written declaration, the proctor is entitled to

demand and receive from him so much as, with the commission on the money

actually deposited, will make the sum of twelve dollars. Moreover, in

all cases in which the student fails to make such written declaration,

or in which it may appear that he has not deposited the whole of his

funds with the proctor, that officer is required to report the fact to

the chairman of the faculty, in order that it may be communicated to the

parent or guardian of the student, be laid before the faculty and

visiters, and otherwise properly animadverted upon.

The contraction of debts by students has, also, been made liable to the

severest collegiate penalties; but, notwithstanding, the offence is

always committed to a greater or less extent. The tradesman will give

credit, and the student escape detection. The last and best resource is

in the public spirit of the parent or guardian, who ought,

unhesitatingly and firmly, to refuse to discharge any debt of an

unauthorized nature, which his son or ward may have contracted, and

especially those of the tavern-keeper or confectioner. The censures

which he may incur from the exercise of his public spirit, can proceed

only from the interested and sordid; whilst he will receive the applause

of all those, whose favourable opinion it is desirable to possess. He

will, moreover, have the gratifying conviction, that, by such a course,

he is contributing to the annihilation of a system which is the cause of

much public and domestic mischief.

The legislature of Massachusetts, to aid in the prevention of expense

and dissoluteness, have patriotically enacted "That no inn-holder,

tavern-keeper, retailer, confectioner, or keeper of any shop or

boarding-house, for the sale of drink or food, or any livery-stable-keeper,

shall give credit to any under-graduate, of either of the colleges

within the commonwealth, without the consent of such officer or officers

of the said colleges, respectively, as may be authorized to act in such

cases, by the government of the same, or in violation of such rules and

regulations as shall be, from time to time, established by the authority

of said colleges respectively."

The example might be advantageously followed in other states. The

objection, that, in a free country, every one ought to be protected in

the exercise of his avocation, provided it be honest, is nugatory. They

who are receiving their education at our universities, are to form the

future strength,--and, in many cases, the pride and ornament of the

state; and the pecuniary detriment that might accrue to a few

individuals by the enactment of such a law, must be reckoned as nothing,

compared with the overwhelming evil which results where unlimited

indulgence is permitted.

One of the most prevalent sources of expense is in the article of dress.

They, whose pecuniary means will admit of ostentatious display, will

frequently attempt to exceed others in this fancied evidence of

superiority. This excites a spirit of emulation in such as are but ill

able to afford it, and is the origin of much idle extravagance.

To rectify this evil, as well as to aid in the more ready detection of

offences, a uniform style of dress has been adopted in many of the

universities of this country, and of Europe.

In some, this consists merely of a gown thrown over the clothes: which

latter may be as costly as the wearer chooses.

In others, as in the universities of Harvard and Virginia, cloth of the

cheapest colour, and of a determinate quality, has been selected; and

the uniform dress, made from this, has been directed to be worn,

whenever the student is out of his room. The plan pursued at those

colleges, is the most advantageous, both in a sumptuary and penal point

of view: the fashion of the dress being such as to distinguish readily

the student from others, and thus to admit of the discovery of

transgressors.

As a general system, the adoption of a uniform is attended with the most

beneficial results: although, in particular cases, it may clearly and

necessarily add to the expenditure, where, for instance, the student

purposes to remain at an institution for a single session only. He

leaves home provided with his ordinary apparel, which he is compelled to

abandon, on becoming a matriculate. The prescribed uniform must, of

course, be laid aside, on his quitting college at the end of the

collegiate year; and, by this time, his ordinary apparel has become too

small for him. For this reason, a law requiring a uniform dress, is

obviously more beneficial in such institutions as prescribe a particular

course and term of study, than where no such regulations exist. In the

laws of the University of Virginia, we find that boots are proscribed,

and this may seem to be descending to unnecessary minutiae; but they who

are practically conversant with university discipline, are aware that

this article of dress is objectionable on other grounds than expense. It

is one of the contraband methods, often had recourse to, for the

introduction of forbidden liquors. The boot is sent apparently to the

shoemaker, containing an empty bottle, which returns, by the same

conveyance, filled with the prohibited article.

On the important topic of practical instruction, the Convention appear

to have entered at some length; but, seemingly, with the same discursive

irregularity, that characterizes all their other deliberations. We

observe no method,--no lucid exposition, and no evident conclusion. A

great part of their discussion was connected with the question, "whether

students should be confined to their classes, or allowed to graduate,

when found prepared, on examination?" On this subject, again, we find

the most discordant sentiments. The majority, perhaps, are in favour of

what they term "_classification_," and adherence to "tried and

well-known courses;" whilst others, from the same premises, have arrived

at opposite conclusions:--the courses having been, in their opinion,

tried and found inadequate.

The most conflicting sentiments have been indulged on this point for

ages: whether, for example, it be advisable to permit a student to

select his own studies, or to compel him to enter and proceed with his

class: to pass a definite period at college, if desirous of attaining

honours, and to offer himself for graduation only in company with his

class.

Most of the older universities adhere to the system, which requires a

fixed course to be followed, and for a certain time. Many of the more

modern, on the other hand, permit a free choice; and some allow the

student to become a candidate for graduation, whenever he feels himself

competent to offer.

In the United States, with but one or two exceptions, we believe, the

antiquated system, with more or less modification, is adopted; and, in

most, the distinctions into freshman and sophomore, junior and senior

classes, prevail: the sciences only becoming predominant objects of the

student's attention in the two last. The course of study in each of

these continues for a year, and is the same for every student, whatever

may be his capacity or tastes. To be received into any of those upon the

old system, it is made indispensable, that he should be acquainted, to a

certain extent, with the Greek and Latin languages.

"No boy," says Mr. Gallatin, in an address characterized by the same

comprehensive and enlightened views, which we mark in every thing

emanating from that distinguished individual--"who has not previously

devoted a number of years to the study of the dead languages; no boy,

who, from defective memory, or want of aptitude for that particular

branch, may be deficient in that respect, can be admitted into any of

our colleges. And those seminaries do alone afford the means of

acquiring any other branch of knowledge. Whatever may be his inclination

or destination, he must, if admitted, apply one-half of his time to the

further study of those languages. It is self-evident, that the avenue to

every branch of knowledge is actually foreclosed by the present system,

against the greater part of mankind." _Journal_. P. 175.

Mr. Gallatin does not seem to have been aware that there is one

university in the Union to which his strictures do not apply--the

University of Virginia. In it the student, except in the schools of

ancient languages, mathematics, and natural philosophy, is subjected to

no preliminary examination; and, moreover, he is required to pass

through no definite course or term of study; to attend no particular

classes, but is left free to select his own studies. When he has once

embraced them, however, he is not permitted to relinquish them, unless

by request of his parent or guardian, and by the permission of the

faculty; and whenever he esteems himself sufficiently informed on the

subject taught in any one of his schools, he is permitted to become a

candidate for graduation in it. This system, which, so far as it goes,

will bear the test of rigid and philosophical examination more than any

other, prevails more or less in the German universities, and has been

adopted, we believe, in the new London University.

Professor Vethake of Princeton, New-Jersey--a communication from whom

was read to the convention, and which exhibits sound practical sense,

and ingenious and discriminating reflection--has exhibited the prevalent

inaccuracy of information, regarding the system adopted at the southern

university, to which, from its novelty, we have so frequently alluded.

"I see no objection," he remarks, "to render it obligatory on them (the

students) to attend at the same period of time, a certain number of

courses, unless specially exempted for sufficient reasons, as is now the

arrangement in the University of Virginia." _Journal_, P. 30. No such

arrangement exists in that institution. The professor has been guilty of

an _error loci_; the plan is pursued at the old college of William and

Mary, in Virginia.

In canvassing the comparative merits of the two systems, and, indeed, of

every point of college discipline and education, it is necessary to take

into consideration the age at which the students are received. In most

of our colleges they are admitted when mere boys, and the course of

instruction is necessarily made more elementary. In the University of

Virginia, on the other hand, no student is received under the age of

sixteen, and when, whatever may be the fact, it is to be presumed, that

the more elementary portion of his education has been completed, and

that he is now prepared for the prosecution of more advanced academic,

or for professional, studies. To adopt a rigid rule, that students of

this age should be compelled to pass a period of four or more years at

college, before they can offer themselves for honours; or that they

should be confined to classes, with boys, to whom a few years is a

matter of comparatively little moment, would be manifestly unreasonable.

This much is certain, that in this country few can spare the time in the

mere attainment of academical or preliminary information. The truth is,

our universities are, like those of Scotland now, and Oxford and

Cambridge in former times--both schools and colleges. The under graduate

course, in those venerable seats of learning, seems at first to have

corresponded precisely, in point of age, with that of the modern

schools. Many of the statutes, still in force at Oxford and Cambridge,

respecting the discipline of students, sufficiently attest the boyhood

of those for whom they were enacted. One of these directs corporal

chastisement for those who neglect their lessons. Another, at Cambridge,

prohibits the undergraduates from playing marbles on the steps of the

senate house. In process of time, excellent schools arose, at which the

ordinary preliminary education was obtained, and the period of resorting

to college became thus postponed. The dislike to innovation, which

augments in intensity according to the age of the establishment,

prevented, however, any modification in the course of scholastic

instruction, and thus it would seem was occasioned the length of time

consumed there in preliminary education.[3]

It will be manifest, that the objections to the system of classification

are not so numerous or so weighty in those colleges into which mere boys

are received. It has been repeatedly urged, that by such a system they

are compelled to study subjects foreign to their inclinations and

capacities; but, until the age of sixteen or seventeen, the mind cannot,

perhaps, be better employed than in the acquirement of such knowledge as

forms part of the course prescribed in the generality of our

universities. The great objection is, that those of all ages are

subjected to the same restrictions.

The opposite course, as it at present prevails at the University of

Virginia, is also liable to animadversion; the less, however, as the

students are not received under sixteen years of age. It will most

generally happen, that neither the youth, nor his parent nor guardian,

is sufficiently acquainted with the course he ought to adopt with the

view of being well educated; and if the youth be left solely to the

exercise of his own discretion, which is often a negative quantity, he

will be apt to select those schools that require the least application,

and are the most interesting, to the exclusion of more severe and

elementary subjects. The best system is that which turns out the

greatest number of well instructed individuals, or which holds out the

greatest amount of incentives to regular study. This cannot be

accomplished by any plan which leaves the student, or the parent or

guardian--often less competent than the student--to be the sole judge of

what should be the course of instruction in all cases. The University of

Virginia, which admits this system to the full extent--in no wise

controlling the choice of the student--affords us some elucidation of

the comparative value attached to different subjects of university

instruction, by the student, or by parents and guardians, and of the

disadvantages of this unrestricted plan. From the report of the rector

and visiters of that university for 1830, we find that there were

attending the

School of Ancient Languages 52

Mathematics 60

Natural Philosophy 47

Moral Philosophy 16

We have selected those subjects only, which constitute the usual course

of academic instruction; and which, we think, ought to constitute it.

The school of chemistry we have omitted, because it was composed of both

academic and professional students, with the ratio of which to each

other we are unacquainted. The probability also is, that some of those

attending the departments of natural and moral philosophy, were students

of law or medicine. From this list we find, that whilst the schools of

ancient languages, of mathematics, and of natural philosophy were well

attended, that of moral philosophy--one of eminent importance in forming

the youthful mind--was comparatively neglected. The two first

departments, as taught in most of our colleges, are the subject of the

first years' attention; the latter are esteemed more advanced studies,

and, where free agency is allowed the pupil, he will generally prefer

the study of matter, with the advantage of the beautiful and diversified

elucidations afforded by the advanced state of physical science, to that

of mind, with all its arid, but by no means sterile investigations.

We have said that, in the University of Virginia, the selection of

studies by the student is free and uncontrolled. An indirect influence

is, however, exerted by the graduation of the fees paid to the

professors. If the student attends but one professor, he is required to

pay $50; if two, $30 to each; if three or more, $25 to each. A similar

effect is produced by the enactment which requires that the student

shall enter three classes, unless his parent and guardian shall

authorize him, in writing, to attend fewer. Such regulations are

favourable only to diffusion of studies over three subjects; the evil

remains--of permitting the student to employ his own unassisted judgment

in the choice. Such a rule must, however, be generally inoperative. If

the collegiate regulation be known, the student will take care to

provide himself with the necessary authorization from his parent or

guardian; and if not known, it would be hard that the rule should apply.

But let us suppose that he arrives at the university without any such

authorization, and desires to join the elementary departments of ancient

languages and mathematics. When he discovers that he is required to

attend three schools, he will necessarily select one that may afford the

greatest attractions, and the attention to which may be esteemed

recreation rather than study. In such a case, the law, independently of

being productive of no clear advantage except that of adding to the

emolument of a greater number of professors, has the evil of compelling

an elementary student to adopt a more advanced subject of study, or, at

all events, an additional study to the disadvantage of the main object

for which he joined the university. Less objection would have existed,

if the regulation had required the student to attend _two_ schools under

such circumstances. He might then devote himself exclusively to

elementary studies; or, if more advanced, he could readily find a

collateral subject, which would not distract his attention from the main

department, and might form an agreeable and useful alternation.

The truth is, however, that the law is liable to all the objections

which apply to the old collegiate regulations, which make time the only

element of qualification for distinction. The board of visiters of that

university should have gone a step further, and instead of stating the

_number_ of schools which a pupil should be compelled to attend, unless

his parent or guardian wished otherwise, they should have recommended,

not enforced, a particular system of study for those desirous of

attaining high literary distinction, or of becoming well educated; still

retaining the valuable feature, that they, whose opportunities, tastes,

or capacities, do not admit of their following the recommendation, may

choose their own subjects.

What this system ought to be, we will now inquire into. It will enter

naturally into the consideration of the latter part of the question

canvassed before the Convention--"ought students to be confined to their

classes, or _allowed to receive degrees when found prepared on

examination_?" The affirmative of the proposition, as regards

graduation, seems to be the natural view; yet there are few institutions

at which this course is permitted. If the pupil be constrained to follow

a prescribed and unbending series of studies, as is the case in most of

the universities of this country and of Europe, it would appear to

result as naturally that the negative view should be adopted.

In the Convention, the most opposing sentiments were here again

elicited; and, as on other topics, they seem to have arrived at no fixed

conclusion; all that we are informed being, that "the discussion of the

topic was discontinued."

As regards the requisites for graduation in the different colleges of

the Union, they are as various as the colleges themselves. This

circumstance has, indeed, given occasion to the little estimation in

which the degrees are in general held. It often happens, in truth, that

the degree of Bachelor of Arts is conferred at one institution, on such

as would be utterly incapable of acquiring it at another; and, at the

close of his college career,--which differs in length in different

institutions,--every individual receives the first degree in the arts:

the examinations instituted being a matter of form, and, too often, of

farce. We cannot be surprised, then, that a degree, thus obtained,

should be contemned; and that, even in legislative assemblies, members

should be found to declare themselves totally unworthy of the honours

thus conferred upon them. This is not the case in the universities of

Europe. In the English universities, the Baccalaureate is made the test

of severe devotion to particular studies; and, whatever objections may

be made to the plan followed in those institutions, of requiring

accurate classical and mathematical knowledge, to the exclusion of every

thing else, the degree is, at all events, an evidence that the possessor

is unusually well instructed in those matters. Hence, we find in that

country the initials B. A. and M. A. proudly appended to the names of

the Bachelor or Master, and received by all as emblems of literary

distinction. How rarely do we see the title thus added in this country?

This comes from the causes already alluded to;--the degree is too easily

attained; and, when attained, is such an insufficient evidence of

learning, that it is discarded; and the parchment and the seal and

riband, and the pomp and ceremony of the day for the distribution of

honours, which excited so much juvenile exultation, are, in after life,

esteemed no criterion of literary distinction. We cannot, then, be

surprised, that one of the topics which engaged the Convention, was,

"whether the title of B. A. should be retained?"

To the title _Bachelor of Arts_, unmeaning as it derivatively is, we

have but little objection, provided certain definite ideas are attached

to it. In the University of Virginia, the term _graduate_ seems to be

considered more appropriate. We do not think it an improvement upon the

ancient appellation:--

"Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well--

Weigh them, it is as heavy."

But few appellatives, in their received acceptation, would be found to

correspond with their derivative meaning. The French have their

"Bachelors" and "Masters of Sciences," but these terms are not more

significant; whilst "Doctor" too often means any thing rather than

_doctus_--"Qui dit Docteur ne dit pas un homme docte, mais un homme qui

devrait etre docte."

Every well devised system of education should combine an attention to

language; to the sciences relating to magnitude and numbers; and to

those that embrace the phenomena of mind and of matter.

Little doubt, we think, can exist in the minds of the intelligent, that

the ancient languages should form one element. Much has been said, and

much will continue to be said, on both sides of this question, into

which we do not propose to enter: admitting, however, that the Latin

language, for example, is less necessary now than when it was the

exclusive language of the learned, and that the modern languages have

emerged from their then _Patois_ condition, and risen in relative

importance, a certain knowledge of that tongue, as well as of the Greek,

ought still to form part of the education of every gentleman. The mind

of youth cannot be better engaged, during the early period of their

university career, than in becoming acquainted with the classic models

of antiquity, and practised in the habits of discrimination which the

study engenders. Whether it should be prosecuted to the extent

inculcated at the English universities, and to the comparative exclusion

of other subjects, is another question. In this country, at least, the

course would be injudicious and unfeasible, and has been canvassed by

Mr. Gallatin with that gentleman's usual felicity of exposition. The

illustrious founder of the University of Virginia appears, however, to

have had different views on this subject from those we have expressed;

and views which appear somewhat inconsistent with freedom of graduation

in the separate schools.

In the earliest copy of the enactments, (1825,) we find it stated,

amongst other matters relating to the attainment of honours, that "the

diploma of each shall express the particular school or schools in which

the candidate shall have been declared eminent, and shall be subscribed

by the particular professors approving it. But no diploma shall be given

to any one who has not passed such an examination in the Latin language

as shall have proved him able to read the highest classics in that

language with ease, thorough understanding, and just quantity. And if he

be also a proficient in the Greek, let that too be stated in the

diploma; the intention being that the reputation of the university shall

not be committed but to those, who, to an eminence in some one or more

of the sciences taught in it, add a proficiency in those languages which

constitute the basis of a good education, and are indispensable to fill

up the character of a 'well educated man.'"

Without dwelling on the unreasonableness of denying a diploma to one who

has sufficient knowledge of mathematics, or chemistry, or of natural or

moral philosophy, because he may not be thoroughly acquainted with

Latin, we cannot avoid expressing our surprise that it should not have

struck that philosophic individual, and his respectable colleagues, as

being a total prohibition to graduation in certain departments. To be

able "to read the highest classics in the Latin language with ease,

thorough understanding, and just quantity," would, of itself, require as

much time as the majority of our youths are capable of devoting to their

collegiate instruction. Accordingly, we find, from the printed

enactments, that the faculty judiciously suggested a modification of the

rule relating to graduation, which was confirmed by the board of

visiters. As it now stands, it merely requires that every candidate for

graduation, in any of the schools, shall give the faculty satisfactory

proof of his ability to write the _English language_ correctly.

For a _university degree_, then, the subject of ancient languages should

certainly be one element. This, we believe, is conceded in all colleges:

at least, the only exception with which we are acquainted, is that of

William and Mary, in Virginia.

As little doubt can there be, with regard to mathematics; which has, in

some institutions, been esteemed the study of primary importance. The

utility of a certain acquaintance with numbers and magnitude, is obvious

in every department of life; but the greatest advantage from the study,

is the precision and accuracy which it gives to the reasoning powers.

When the student has attained this more elementary instruction, he is

capable of undertaking, satisfactorily, the study of physics, and of

becoming acquainted with the bodies that surround him, and the laws that

govern them, as well as of entering upon the science of moral

philosophy, and of comprehending the interesting subject of his own

psychology.

These seem to be the only departments that need be acquired for a

university degree. They embrace an acquaintance with the ancient

classics, and the philosophy of language, as well as with mathematical,

physical, and metaphysical facts and reasonings; and their acquisition

enables the student to enter upon professional or political life with

every advantage.

We have said nothing, it will be observed, of the modern languages. The

valuable stores to be drawn from these, especially from the French and

German, are, of themselves, attractions which render unnecessary

collegiate restraint or recommendation. No one can now be esteemed well

educated, who is thoroughly ignorant of them.

It has been remarked that the student is permitted, in the University of

Virginia, to graduate in the separate schools; and that an evil exists

there, in no course of study being advised. The consequence of this is,

that few can be expected to remain, for any length of time, at that

institution. We would by no means interfere with this graduation in the

schools; but, in addition to this, there ought, we think, to be some

goal of more elevated attainment, which might excite the attention and

emulation of those whose opportunities admit of their being well

educated. Let it bear the title of _Bachelor of Arts_, or _Master of

Arts_, or _graduate_, and, if a definite meaning be affixed to it by the

college authorities, it cannot fail to be as well understood as the

unmeaning terms, sophomore, freshman, senior-wrangler, &c. and let the

requisites for this higher honour be graduation in, or a sufficient

knowledge of ancient languages, mathematics, natural philosophy, and

chemistry and moral philosophy. If this plan were universally adopted, a

certain degree of uniformity might exist amongst the different colleges:

the degree would be received as the test of literary merit, and the

possessor be proud of appending the title to his name. At present, as

Mr. Sparks has correctly observed, the "diplomas of this country, as

they are now estimated in the United States, appear to be of little

value."

The only other topic on which we shall pause, relates to the mode in

which instruction should be conveyed, and to the examinations to be

instituted, with the view of ascertaining comparative merit, and of

exciting emulation. On this subject, as is well known, the English

universities of Oxford and Cambridge, and that of Dublin, differ

essentially from the Scotch and many others: the latter teaching,

solely, by lectures delivered orally. The most successful plan is that

which combines both lectures and examinations. It is but rarely, that a

text book can be found to suit the views of the professor, and no

student pays the same degree of attention to a written composition. Even

in the departments of ancient languages and mathematics, where the

combination of lectures with examinations would appear most difficult, a

praelection, explaining the various points of the subsequent examination,

may be, and often is, premised with striking effect. In the ordinary

method of teaching the classics, little attention is paid, except to the

vocabulary; and many a student has thumbed his Horace for the fourth or

fifth time, without being aware of the import of the philological,

geographical, historical, and other allusions, with which the inimitable

productions of the satirist abound. The vocabulary is but the key, that

unlocks these various treasures. In a well devised praelection, _things_

can be thought as well as _words_. We do not, indeed, know any

department of science or literature, in which a union of praelections and

examinations may not be employed with advantage. There is, however,

another and a more serious objection to confining a student, in most

branches at least, to a text book:--the professor is not stimulated to

keep pace with the rapidly improving condition of science. If indolent

and devoid of enthusiasm, he confines the youth closely to the

text,--takes no pains to advance him farther,--and the student leaves

the institution with the most insufficient instruction on the subject.

The text books which are used at this time, in some of our colleges, and

have been so for the last fifty years, are melancholy evidences of the

imperfect mode in which particular studies are taught there, and of the

absence of all progress on the part of the teachers.

We believe the very best system of instruction, where it can be adopted,

is:--to recapitulate the subject of the preceding lecture, and, after

the lecture of the day, to examine the class thoroughly on the last

lecture but one. In this manner, the facts and theories of a science are

impressed three times, upon the memory of the pupil; and if, after this,

he is unable to retain them, he must be pronounced incorrigible. This

plan we conceive to be the superlative; and to this conclusion we are

led, not from theory simply, but from practice.

The nature of certain subjects, and the shortness of time appropriated,

in some institutions, to lecture, may, occasionally, preclude its

fulfilment: the nearer it can be accomplished, the better. Under this

plan, the text book becomes a matter of comparatively trifling

moment,--as the student will, of course, be understood to come prepared

for examination on the subject of the lecture, as delivered _ex

cathedra_.

With regard to _public examinations_, we need not dwell on the question

of their policy. All well-regulated universities in this country and

Great Britain, at least, have a system of rewards, as well as of

punishments; and this uniformity may be esteemed a fair criterion of the

opinions of the wise and reflecting of those countries on this topic.

However desirable it may be, that mankind should do their duty without

fear or expectation, every day's experience testifies that the hope of

reward, or the dread of punishment, powerfully influences their

exertions, not only for temporal, but eternal purposes.

In the German universities, there are neither daily, nor semi-annual,

nor annual examinations; and, accordingly, we are not much surprised to

find them objected to by some who had received their education in that

country. The difference, however, which prevails upon this point in the

best colleges of different parts of the globe, ought to have suggested

some slight qualification of the sweeping censures that were passed upon

the system in the Convention. "The semi-annual examinations," says Dr.

J. Leo Wolf, "as recommended by some of the gentlemen of the Convention,

lower the student to the rank of a schoolboy, while, being a man, as he

ought to be, they are useless, for he will know that it is for his own

good, to be assiduous in his studies. Moreover, the result of his

studies is proved at the time when he desires to graduate, and to be

licensed for the practice of his profession. Then he must pass a strict

rigid and public examination; and this I should warmly recommend. In

Prussia, these examinations are particularly severe, but quite impartial

and recorded." P. 251. So far as we can judge from the involved and

almost unintelligible twaddle contained in the address of Mr. Woodbridge

on the subject of discipline, we should conceive him opposed to these as

well as to all other means, which would excite the _emulation_ of the

student; thus discarding, on faulty metaphysical speculation, one of the

most powerful stimuli to all literary and honourable distinction; and

which, if rightly directed, can never, in collegiate life, act otherwise

than beneficially. Granting, then, that annual, or semi-annual public

examinations are of excellent policy in all higher schools, it remains

to inquire into the best mode of conducting them. The oral system is

that received into most of our colleges. In it the students are

necessarily interrogated on different subjects, so that it becomes a

matter of difficulty, nay of impracticability, to determine, with any

accuracy, their relative standing. Added to this, if the class be

numerous, it is impossible to put a sufficient number of questions to

each individual; and the bold and confident, will ever exhibit a

manifest advantage over the timid and retiring. In every respect, the

oral, seems to us to be inferior to the written examination, where

either is practicable. In the departments of the languages--ancient and

modern--an admixture of the two would always be requisite, for the

purpose of determining the student's acquaintance with quantity or

accent, etymology, syntax, &c.

The plan universally adopted into the higher schools of England, is that

by written answers. The students of a class are all furnished with the

same questions; and the answers to these are written in the examination

room. All communication between the examinants is prevented; and no book

allowed to be brought into the apartment. After the expiration of a

certain time the answers are collected.

The English method has, so far as we know, been received into one of our

universities only--the University of Virginia. It has now been practised

there for five years; and, we have reason to believe, the results have

been such, as to satisfy the faculty of its pre-eminence over the

methods usually practised. The following is its arrangement as published

in the _Virginia Literary Museum_.

"1. The chairman of the faculty shall appoint for the

examination of each school, a committee consisting of the

professor of that school, and of two other professors. 2.

The professor shall prepare, in writing, a series of

questions to be proposed to his class, at their examination,

and to these questions he shall affix numerical values,

according to the estimate he shall form of their relative

difficulty, the highest number being 100. The list, thus

prepared, shall be submitted to the committee for their

approbation. In the schools of languages, subjects may also

be selected for oral examination. 3. The times of

examination for the several schools shall be appointed by

the chairman. 4. At the hour appointed, the students of the

class to be examined shall take their places in the lecture

room, provided with pens, ink, and paper. The written

questions shall then, for the first time, be presented to

them, and they shall be required to give the answers in

writing with their names subscribed. 5. A majority of the

committee shall always be present during the examination;

and they shall see that the students keep perfect silence,

do not leave their seats, and have no communication with one

another or with other persons. When, in the judgment of the

committee, sufficient time has been allowed for preparing

the answers, the examination shall be closed, and all the

papers handed in. 6. The professor shall then carefully

examine and compare all the answers, and shall prepare a

report, in which he shall mark, numerically, the value which

he attaches to each: the highest number for any answer being

that which had been before fixed upon as the value of the

corresponding question. For the oral examinations, the

values shall be marked at the time by the professor, with

the approbation of the committee, but the number attached to

any exercise of this kind shall not exceed 20. 7. This

report shall be submitted to the committee, and if approved

by them, shall be laid before the faculty, together with all

the papers connected with it, which are to be preserved in

the archives of the university. 8. The students shall be

arranged into three separate divisions, according to the

merit of their examinations as determined by the following

method. The numerical values attached to all the questions

are to be added together, and also the values of all the

answers given by each student. If this last number exceeds

three-fourths of the first, the student shall be ranked in

the first division; if it be less than three-fourths, and

more than one-fourth, in the second; and if less than

one-fourth, in the third."

This scheme combines the advantages of affording both the _positive_ and

_relative_ standing of the pupil. And as those in the separate divisions

are arranged alphabetically, it does not necessarily expose the lowest

in the third division to the degradation and mortification, to which,

however, they are often richly entitled.

The plan of examinations for honours and prizes, in the University of

London, resembles the above essentially; differing from it, indeed, in

few particulars. It comprises one regulation, however, which might be

advantageously appended to the other. We copy it from the printed

"Regulations"--Session, 1828-29.

"The paper containing the answers must not be signed with the student's

own name, but with a mark or motto; and the name of the student using

it, inclosed in a sealed envelope, inscribed with the mark or motto must

be left with the professor, to be opened after the merit of the answers

shall have been determined." This prevents the possibility of

favouritism, in all classes, which are so large that the professor does

not become acquainted with the autographs of his students. The

examinants are there also placed, according to the merits of their

answers, in classes, denominated the _first_, _second_, and _third_;

provided the sum of their answers be equal to a certain amount; all

below this point are not classed.

We have now touched upon the most important topics presented by the

committee for the consideration of the Convention. Several others were

propounded, but they seem to have fallen still-born from their authors.

As regards the 11th, 12th, and 14th, "whether any religious service,

and, if any, what may with propriety be connected with a

university?"--"Whether any course of instruction on the evidences of

Christianity will be admissible?"--And, "Is it proper to introduce the

Bible as a classic in the institutions of a Christian country?" We shall

gladly follow the example of prudence exhibited by the Convention, and

pass them over. The affirmative view of the last topic, meets with an

enthusiastic supporter in the author of one of the works, whose titles

are placed at the head of this article.

One proposition only remains, on which, in conclusion, we may indulge a

few remarks:--"The importance of adding a department of English

language, in which the studies of rhetoric and English classics shall be

minutely pursued." This subject, we regret to see, experienced the fate

of others, more deserving of neglect, and was not discussed.

We have long felt impressed, that the organization of our colleges is

defective in this respect. Into many of them the student is received,

after having been employed in scraping together a few Greek and Latin

words and phrases; yet lamentably ignorant of the literature, structure,

and even of the commonest principles of the orthography of his own

tongue. Such a chair ought to be established in all our universities,

and a certain degree of proficiency in the subjects embraced by it,

should be a preliminary to every collegiate attainment. It would be an

instructive and delightful study to trace back, as far as possible, the

language of Britain to its aboriginal condition, and to follow up the

changes impressed upon it, by the Celtic, Gothic, Roman, Saxon, Belgic,

Danish, and Norman invaders; the investigation being accompanied with

elucidative references to the literature of the different periods. The

poetry, romances, and the drama would constitute inquiries of abundant

interest and information. To these might be added didactic and

rhetorical exercises for improving the student in the practice of

writing--not merely accurately, but elegantly and perspicuously.

Such a professorship has been wisely established in the University of

London; and we trust the new University of New-York will follow the good

example. If we may judge, indeed, from the ungrammatical and inelegant

Journal of the Convention, an attention to this subject is as much

needed there as elsewhere; and were the professorship in the hands of an

accomplished individual, it could not fail to improve the literary taste

and execution of the community.

[Footnote 1: Memoir, Correspondence, &c. Vol. IV. P. 387.]

[Footnote 2: Ueber die verfassung und verwaltung deutscher

universitaten. Goettingen, 1801-2.]

[Footnote 3: Quarterly Review, Vol. XXXVI. P. 229.]

ART. II.--_The Life and Times of His Late Majesty, George

the Fourth: with Anecdotes of distinguished Persons of the

last fifty years._ By the Rev. GEORGE CROLY, A. M. London:

1830.

_C'est un metier que de faire un livre comme de faire une pendule_--it

is a trade to make a book just as much as to make a watch--is a remark

which was never better exemplified, than by the manner in which the

craftsmen of the book-making trade in London, have compressed the Life

of His Late Most Sacred Majesty, within the two covers of a volume. That

exalted personage may have descended to the tomb unwept and unhonoured,

in reality, however numerous the tears shed upon his bier, or gorgeous

the ceremonies attending his interment; but he certainly has not gone

down to it unsung, as the above work is only one of several, if we are

not much mistaken, in which his requiem has been chanted with becoming

loyalty. We have seen none of its fellows, though the advertisement of

them has met our eye. Judging, however, from the reputation of its

author, there is not much literary boldness in pronouncing it the best

which has appeared about its kingly subject.

Mr. Croly is well known as a candidate of considerable pretensions, as

well for the honours of Parnassus, as for those which an elevated seat

on the prosaic mount, whatever may be its name, can confer. But, in

concocting this last production, it is beyond doubt, that the main

object he had in view, was one of a more substantial kind than a mere

increase of fame. "The Life, &c." is, in fact, a bookseller's job,

executed, we allow, by a man of genius. There are evident marks about it

of hasty and careless composition,--of a desire to make a book of a

certain number of pages, with as little trouble and delay as possible.

The style is often deficient in purity and correctness, and overloaded

with glittering tropes and ornaments, not always in good taste; the

arrangement wants consecutiveness and perspicuity; and attention is

sometimes bestowed upon topics comparatively unimportant, to the

detriment of such as are of more moment. But it is, on the whole, a work

of undeniable talent, containing much powerful writing, richness and

beauty of diction, graphic delineation of character, interesting

information, and amusing anecdote. Some of the author's sentiments are

obnoxious to censure, and we shall venture to disagree with him,

occasionally, as we proceed.

It was on the 8th of September, 1761, that His Majesty, George the

Third, espoused Sophia Charlotte, daughter of the Duke of Mecklenburg

Strelitz; and, on the twelfth of August, in the following year, she

presented him with a son and heir, to his own great delight, and the

universal joy of the British empire. Ineffable as is the contempt which

is expressed at the present day, for the superstitious trust reposed in

omens by the heathen ancients, yet nothing of any consequence occurs,

without being attended by signs in which the Christian multitude discern

either fortunate or disastrous predictions. It has thus been carefully

recorded and handed down, that the birth of the royal infant happened on

the anniversary of the Hanover accession, and that the same day was

rendered trebly auspicious, by the arrival at London of wagons

containing an immense quantity of treasure, the fruits of the capture of

a Spanish galleon off Cape St. Vincent, by three English frigates. A few

days after his appearance in this world, His Royal Highness was created

Prince of Wales, by patent, and would have been completely crushed under

the load of honours that devolved upon him, had their weight been of a

kind to be physically felt; Duke of Cornwall, hereditary Steward of

Scotland, Duke of Rothsay, Earl of Carrick, and Baron of Rothsay, were

his other titles,--being those to which the eldest son of the British

throne is born. There is no harm in this, perhaps, as things are

constituted in England, but we have never been able to think of one of

the titles to which the second son is heir, without feeling an

inclination to smile;--the Duke of York is Bishop of Osnaburgh;--nothing

more ridiculous than this, can be discovered even amid the nonsense that

is inseparable from regal institutions;--born a bishop!

At the time of the Prince of Wales's birth, George the Third was at the

height of popularity,--the reasons for which, Mr. Croly has detailed at

some length. In depicting the character of this monarch, he certainly

has not employed the pencil with which it was darkened, as our readers

may recollect, by Mr. Coke of Norfolk, on a recent occasion, who thus

brought upon his own head a torrent of abuse. It was shocking, was it

said, to disturb the repose of one who had so long been slumbering in

the tomb, in the same way as it had been pronounced monstrous to say

aught in disparagement of His Majesty, when he had just been gathered to

his forefathers; as if kings were like private individuals, the effects

of whose acts either expire with themselves, or are of contracted

influence. It is far, however, from our wish, to dispute the fidelity of

Mr. Croly's portrait; and we are perfectly willing to believe, that "no

European throne had been ascended for a hundred years before, by a

sovereign more qualified by nature and circumstances, to win golden

opinions from his people, than George the Third," though, we must be

allowed to think, that circumstances did not qualify him to win "golden

opinions" from us Americans. "Youth, striking appearance, a fondness not

less for the gay and peaceful amusements of court life, than for those

field sports, which make the popular indulgence of the English

land-holder, a strong sense of the national value of scientific and

literary pursuits, piety unquestionably sincere, and morals on which

even satire never dared to throw a stain, were the claims of the king to

the approbation of his people;" but all these claims were neutralized,

by the appointment of Lord Bute, as his prime minister. The odium that

resulted from this measure, was carefully fomented by the arts of

demagogues, the most conspicuous of whom was Wilkes. It was ascribed to

an unworthy passion entertained for the handsome nobleman by the

princess dowager, and to arbitrary principles in the monarch; and, such

was the effect produced upon the latter, by the opposition and virulence

which he encountered, that he is said to have conceived the idea of

abandoning England, and retiring to Hanover. At one time, his

inclination to take this step was so great, that he communicated it to

the Lord Chancellor Thurlow, who honestly told him, that, "though it

might be easy to go to Hanover, it might be difficult to return to

England."

In December, 1765, when not quite three years of age, the Prince of

Wales received a deputation from the Society of Ancient Britons, on St.

David's day, and, in answer to their address, said,--"he thanked them

for this mark of duty to the king, and wished prosperity to the

charity,"--an early development of that talent for public speaking,

which he is said to have possessed! In the same year, he was invested

with the order of the garter, along with the Earl of Albemarle, and the

hereditary Prince of Brunswick.

When the Prince had attained an age at which it was deemed necessary for

his education to commence, it was determined that it should be conducted

on a private plan; and Lord Holdernesse, "a nobleman of considerable

attainments, but chiefly recommended by dignity of manner and knowledge

of the court," was appointed his governor, and Dr. Markham, subsequently

archbishop of York, and Cyril Jackson, were named preceptor and

sub-preceptor. This measure excited a violent outcry; it was said that

the heir to the throne should receive a public education at one of the

great schools; and this opinion Mr. Croly strenuously advocates. It did

not, however, produce any effect, and the whole course of instruction

which the Prince underwent was private, though the preceptorship was

twice changed. The Duke of Montague, Hurd, Bishop of Litchfield, and the

Rev. Mr. Arnold, formed the last preceptorial trio.

In January, 1781, when the Prince was but a little more than eighteen,

he was declared of age, "on the old ground that the heir-apparent knows

no minority;" and a separate establishment, on a small scale, having

been assigned to him, he now became, in a measure, his own master. In

1783, when about to take his place in the legislature, arrangements were

commenced for supplying him with an income, and at the instigation of

the king, the parliament voted him an annual revenue of L50,000, besides

an outfit of L100,000. The sum of L60,000 for the outfit had been

originally proposed by the king, but it was increased in consequence of

the demand of the cabinet, known by the name of the Coalition Cabinet,

some of the members of which, especially Fox, insisted for a time upon

making the grant L100,000 a year. This, however, the king resolutely

refused to allow, "for the double reason of avoiding any unnecessary

increase to the public burdens, and of discouraging those propensities

which he probably conjectured in the Prince." He accordingly demanded

"_but_" the sums we have mentioned. Can any one read the sentence just

quoted from Mr. Croly, without a smile? The precious fruits of

royalty!--they even reduce a man of sense to write what is ludicrous

from its absurdity. It is, without doubt, an admirable method of

avoiding any unnecessary increase of the public burdens, and

discouraging the evil propensities of a young man, to deprive the people

of five hundred thousand dollars at once, and half that sum every year,

in order to bestow it upon the individual who has no other use for it

than to gratify those propensities. But, we shall be told, the heir to a

throne must support his dignity. In that phrase is comprised as

unanswerable an argument against royal institutions, as can be desired.

The people must be heavily burthened, to enable the person by whom they

are to be governed, to indulge in all sorts of excesses, and thus

disqualify himself for that duty, in order that he may support the

dignity of his station! Thank Heaven we live in a land in which there is

no such dignity to be supported,--where the time of the great officers

of state is never occupied in wrangling about the extent of the

facilities which shall be afforded the successor to the administration

of affairs, of bringing disgrace upon himself, and the country,--where

the people are infinitely better governed, at an infinitely less

expense, both of money and honour!

"Now, fully," says Mr. Croly, "began his checkered career,"--which,

properly interpreted, means, that now he fully plunged into that

reckless course of profligacy and folly, which terminated only with his

life, and which should render his name odious to all who are friends of

decency and virtue. We were afraid when we saw the announcement of the

work we are reviewing, that its author would allow himself to be blinded

by the regal blaze which surrounded its subject, and would endeavour to

palliate those violations by a king, of the most sacred ordinances of

the religion of which he is a minister, which he would have branded with

indelible infamy in a private individual. Our fears, unfortunately, have

not proved groundless. "There are no faults that we discover with more

proverbial rapidity, than the faults of others,--and none that generate

a more vindictive spirit of virtue, and are softened down by fewer

attempts at palliation, than the faults of princes in the grave. Yet,

without justice, history is but a more solemn libel; and no justice can

be done to the memory of any public personage, without considering the

peculiar circumstances of his time." Such is the sophistry with which he

enters upon the task of extenuation. The first part of the first period

in the above extract, is certainly undeniable--"fit nescio quomodo,"

says Cicero, "ut magis in aliis cernamus si quid delinquitur, quam

nobismet in ipsis;" but, though the second part may also be indisputable

as a general position, it is not at all applicable to this case. The

historian or biographer, who is discussing the character of a monarch

long since "fixed in the tomb," will doubtless find it an easy matter to

make

"His virtues fade, his vices bloom,"

should he be so inclined: no other considerations but those of

conscience operate then to influence his pen. But the case is quite

different when he is writing about a king scarcely yet cold in the

grave, when a species of popular infatuation commands that grave to be

strewn with flowers, when it is necessary, as it were, to sail with the

stream or sink; and when the brother of the deceased monarch has just

ascended the throne, and, for the sake of appearances, may deem himself

called upon to consider every thing said concerning his predecessor as

touching himself. How many motives combine here to warp the judgment and

the conscience, and convert sober history into funeral panegyric! Thus,

if Mr. Croly had undertaken the task of delineating the moral features

of Richard the III., or of James the II.--we adduce James the II.,

because our author seems to regard Catholicity as so monstrous a crime

that this prince would, we are sure, not be drawn by him in the most

flattering colours--he would have found, to use his own words, that

there are no faults which generate a more vindictive spirit of virtue,

than those of princes in the grave; but in depicting George the IVth.,

he has proved the reverse of this to be the fact. It is amusing,

although at the same time melancholy, to contrast the virtuous

indignation with which he pours out his anathemas against those who

committed the tremendous crime of advocating and effecting the

emancipation of the Catholics, with the gentle terms in which he

comments upon the wanderings of the Prince of Wales from the proper

path, and the glosses with which he softens their obliquity. One might

be induced to suppose that his creed holds religious liberality as the

crime of deadly dye, and dissipation of the lowest kind as a vice merely

venial in its character.

"Without justice," he continues "history is but a more solemn libel, and

no justice can be done to the memory of any public personage, without

considering the peculiar circumstances of his time." This remark is true

with regard to those public personages whom he has so severely taken to

task for their conduct respecting the Catholic question; had not his

mind's eye been covered with a film, he would have perceived that the

"peculiar circumstances of the time" fully warranted that change in the

course pursued by Mr. Peel, the Duke of Wellington, and others, with

reference to that important question, which has drawn from him such

expressions of horror; but it is far from being equally admissible where

he has applied it. That less tenderness should be extended towards the

vices of princes than to those of subjects is, we think, undeniable,

when the weightier (secular) reasons they have for keeping a strict

control over their passions, are considered,--reasons which should

completely counterbalance any greater temptations they may be obliged to

undergo.

"A sovereign's great example forms a people;

The public breast is noble or is vile,

As he inspires it."

"The man whom Heaven appoints

To govern others, should himself first learn

To bend his passions to the sway of reason."

Surely these two considerations--the potent effect of his example, and

the almost impossibility of governing others when not able to govern

himself--without referring to that paramount one which operates for all

men alike, ought to have been sufficient to counteract the tendency of

"the peculiar circumstances of his time," to inflame the "propensities"

of the Prince; or, at least, should be enough to prevent an extenuation

on that ground, of his unrestrained indulgence of them, by the historian

of his life. What those circumstances were, we will let Mr. Croly

relate.

"The peace of 1782 threw open the continent; and it was

scarcely proclaimed, when France was crowded with the

English nobility. Versailles was the centre of all that was

sumptuous in Europe. The graces of the young queen, then in

the pride of youth and beauty; the pomp of the royal family

and the noblesse; and the costliness of the fetes and

celebrations, for which France has been always famous,

rendered the court the dictator of manners, morals, and

politics, to all the higher ranks of the civilized world.

But the Revolution was now hastening with the strides of a

giant upon France: the torch was already waving over the

chambers of this morbid and guilty luxury. The corrective

was terrible: history has no more stinging retrospect than

the contrast of that brilliant time with the days of shame

and agony that followed--the untimely fate of beauty, birth,

and heroism,--the more than serpent-brood that started up in

the path which France once emulously covered with flowers

for the step of her rulers,--the hideous suspense of the

dungeon,--the heart-broken farewell to life and royalty upon

the scaffold. But France was the grand corruptor; and its

supremacy must in a few years have spread incurable disease

through the moral frame of Europe.

"The English men of rank brought back with them its

dissipation and its infidelity. The immediate circle of the

English court was clear. The grave virtue of the king held

the courtiers in awe; and the queen, with a pious wisdom,

for which her name should long be held in honour,

indignantly repulsed every attempt of female levity to

approach her presence. But beyond this sacred circle, the

influence of foreign association was felt through every

class of society. The great body of the writers of England,

the men of whom the indiscretions of the higher ranks stand

most in awe, had become less the guardians than the seducers

of the public mind. The 'Encyclopedie,' the code of

rebellion and irreligion still more than of science, had

enlisted the majority in open scorn of all that the heart

should practise or the head revere; and the Parisian

atheists scarcely exceeded the truth, when they boasted of

erecting a temple that was to be frequented by worshippers

of every tongue. A cosmopolite, infidel republic of letters

was already lifting its front above the old sovereignties,

gathering under its banners a race of mankind new to public

struggle,--the whole secluded, yet jealous and vexed race of

labourers in the intellectual field, and summoning them to

devote their most unexhausted vigour and masculine ambition

to the service of a sovereign, at whose right and left, like

the urns of Homer's Jove, stood the golden founts of glory.

London was becoming Paris in all but the name. There never

was a period when the tone of our society was more polished,

more animated, or more corrupt. Gaming, horse-racing, and

still deeper deviations from the right rule of life, were

looked upon as the natural embellishments of rank and

fortune. Private theatricals, one of the most dexterous and

assured expedients to extinguish, first the delicacy of

woman, and then her virtue, were the favourite indulgence;

and, by an outrage to English decorum, which completed the

likeness to France, women were beginning to mingle in public

life, try their influence in party, and entangle their

feebleness in the absurdities and abominations of political

intrigue. In the midst of this luxurious period the Prince

of Wales commenced his public career. His rank alone would

have secured him flatterers; but he had higher titles to

homage. He was, then, one of the handsomest men in Europe:

his countenance open and manly; his figure tall, and

strikingly proportioned; his address remarkable for easy

elegance, and his whole air singularly noble. His

contemporaries still describe him as the model of a man of

fashion, and amusingly lament over the degeneracy of an age

which no longer produces such men.

"But he possessed qualities which might have atoned for a

less attractive exterior. He spoke the principal modern

languages with sufficient skill; he was a tasteful musician;

his acquaintance with English literature was, in early life,

unusually accurate and extensive; Markham's discipline, and

Jackson's scholarship, had given him a large portion of

classical knowledge; and nature had given him the more

important public talent of speaking with fluency, dignity,

and vigour.

"Admiration was the right of such qualities, and we can feel

no surprise if it were lavishly offered by both sexes. But

it has been strongly asserted, that the temptations of

flattery and pleasure were thrown in his way for other

objects than those of the hour; that his wanderings were

watched by the eyes of politicians; and that every step

which plunged him deeper into pecuniary embarrassment was

triumphed in, as separating him more widely from his natural

connexions, and compelling him in his helplessness to throw

himself into the arms of factions alike hostile to his

character and his throne."

Our readers may compare the above portrait of his royal highness, with

that which Mr. Jefferson draws of him in one of his letters.

In 1787, the Prince had involved himself in debt to such an amount, that

it was found necessary to solicit Parliament, not only for a sum

sufficient to liquidate his obligations, but also for an increase of his

income, the salary first granted having proved quite inadequate for his

royal propensities. The following account of his debts and expenditure

was laid before the House of Commons, and furnishes a teeming commentary

on the blessings of hereditary government. In considering this matter,

one might be tempted to regard Parliament as a species of eleemosynary

institution, for the relief of insolvent royalty.

_Debts._

Bonds and debts, L13,000

Purchase of houses, 4,000

Expenses of Carlton House, 53,000

Tradesmen's bills, 90,804

--------

L160,804

_Expenditure from July 1783, to July 1786._

Household, &c., L29,277

Privy purse, 16,050

Payments made by Col. Hotham,

particulars delivered in

to his majesty, 37,203

Other extraordinaries, 11,406

--------

L93,936

Salaries, 54,734

Stables, 37,919

Mr. Robinson's, 7,059

--------

L193,648

The debate upon the grant was of a highly animated character, and in the

course of it the Prince was not spared. He was befriended by the

opposition, with Fox at its head, having thrown himself into the arms of

that party, who were endeavouring in every way to drive Pitt from his

ministerial seat. But in this instance, as in most others, the latter

succeeded in carrying his point; in consequence of which, L161,000 were

issued out of the civil list to pay the Prince's debts, and L20,000 for

the completion of Carlton House, but no augmentation of his income was

allowed. "Hopeless of future appeal, stung by public rebuke, and

committed before the empire in hostility to the court and the minister,

the Prince was now thrown completely into Fox's hands."

Perhaps the two most interesting chapters in Mr. Croly's book, are those

entitled "the Prince's friends," in which he has brought into review

most of the principal characters of that period of intellectual giants,

whose renown continues to shed increasing lustre around the political

and literary horizon of England. The world is never tired of reading

whatever has reference to those personages, and a book that professes to

speak respecting them, may be said to possess a sure passport to public

favour at the present day. Well may the old man now living in England,

the prime of whose life was passed in that time, be allowed to be a

"laudator temporis acti," without having it imputed to the fond weakness

of senility. We shall make copious extracts from this portion of our

author's work.

"England had never before seen such a phalanx armed against

a minister. A crowd of men of the highest natural talents,

of the most practised ability, and of the first public

weight in birth, fortune, and popularity, were nightly

arrayed against the administration, sustained by the

solitary eloquence of the young Chancellor of the Exchequer.

"Yet Pitt was not careless of followers. He was more than

once even charged with sedulously gathering round him a host

of subaltern politicians, whom he might throw forward as

skirmishers,--or sacrifices, which they generally were.

Powis, describing the 'forces led by the right honourable

gentleman on the treasury bench,' said, 'the first

detachment may be called his body-guard, who shoot their

little arrows against those who refuse allegiance to their

chief.' This light infantry were of course, soon scattered

when the main battle joined. But Pitt, a son of the

aristocracy, was an aristocrat in all his nature, and he

loved to see young men of family around him; others were

chosen for their activity, if not for their force, and some,

probably, from personal liking. In the later period of his

career, his train was swelled by a more influential and

promising race of political worshippers, among whom were

Lord Mornington, since Marquess Wellesley; Ryder, since Lord

Harrowby; and Wilberforce, still undignified by title, but

possessing an influence, which, perhaps, he values more. The

minister's chief agents in the house of commons, were Mr.

Grenville (since Lord Grenville) and Dundas.

"Yet, among those men of birth or business, what rival could

be found to the popular leaders on the opposite side of the

house,--to Burke, Sheridan, Grey, Windham, or to Fox, that

"'Prince and chief of many throned powers,

Who led the embattled seraphim to war.'"

Without adopting the bitter remark of the Duke de Montausier

to Louis the Fourteenth, in speaking of Versailles:--'Vous

avez beau faire, sire, vous n'en ferez jamais qu'un favori

sans merite,' it was impossible to deny their inferiority on

all the great points of public impression. A debate in that

day was one of the highest intellectual treats: there was

always some new and vigorous feature in the display on both

sides; some striking effort of imagination or masterly

reasoning, or of that fine sophistry, in which, as was said

of the vices of the French noblesse, half the evil was

atoned by the elegance. The ministerialists sarcastically

pronounced that, in every debate, Burke said something which

no one else ever said; Sheridan said something that no one

else ought to say, and Fox something that no one else would

dare to say. But the world, fairer in its decision, did

justice to their extraordinary powers; and found in the

Asiatic amplitude and splendour of Burke; in Sheridan's

alternate subtlety and strength, reminding it at one time of

Attic dexterity, and another of the uncalculating boldness

of barbarism; and in Fox's matchless English

self-possession, unaffected vigour, and overflowing

sensibility, a perpetual source of admiration.

"But it was in the intercourses of social life that the

superiority of Opposition was most incontestable. Pitt's

life was in the senate; his true place of existence was on

the benches of that ministry, which he conducted with such

unparalleled ability and success: he was, in the fullest

sense of the phrase, a public man; and his indulgences in

the few hours which he could spare from the business of

office, were more like the necessary restoratives of a frame

already shattered, than the easy gratifications of a man of

society: and on this principle we can safely account for the

common charge of Pitt's propensity to wine. He found it

essential, to relieve a mind and body exhausted by the

perpetual pressure of affairs: wine was his medicine: and it

was drunk in total solitude, or with a few friends from whom

the minister had no concealment. Over his wine the speeches

for the night were often concerted; and when the dinner was

done, the table council broke up only to finish the night in

the house.

"But with Fox, all was the bright side of the picture. His

extraordinary powers defied dissipation. No public man of

England ever mingled so much personal pursuit of every thing

in the form of indulgence with so much parliamentary

activity. From the dinner he went to the debate, from the

debate to the gaming-table, and returned to his bed by

day-light, freighted with parliamentary applause, plundered

of his last disposable guinea, and fevered with

sleeplessness and agitation; to go through the same round

within the next twenty-four hours. He kept no house; but he

had the houses of all his party at his disposal, and that

party were the most opulent and sumptuous of the nobility.

Cato and Antony were not more unlike, than the public

severity of Pitt, and the native and splendid dissoluteness

of Fox.

"They were unlike in all things. Even in such slight

peculiarities as their manner of walking into the house of

commons, the contrast was visible. From the door Pitt's

countenance was that of a man who felt that he was coming

into his high place of business. 'He advanced up the floor

with a quick firm step, with the head erect, and thrown

back, looking to neither the right nor the left, nor

favouring with a glance or a nod any of the individuals

seated on either side, among whom many of the highest would

have been gratified by such a mark of recognition.' Fox's

entrance was lounging or stately, as it might happen, but

always good-humoured; he had some pleasantry to exchange

with every body, and until the moment when he rose to speak,

continued gaily talking with his friends."

* * * * *