CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
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 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis book is in 
 tile Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924029459009 
 
THE 
 
 EARLY YEARS 
 
 OF TUB LATB 
 
 BISHOP HOB ART. 
 
 BY JOHN McVICKAR, D. D. 
 
 The boy is father of the man. — WordstMrtk, 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 
 rKINTED AT THE PHOTESTANT EPISCOPAL PBES5. 
 M DCGC XXXIV. 
 
B. CURTIS BROWN, PRINT. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The perusal of the letters and papers of the 
 late Bishop Hobart, undertaken with a differ- 
 ent view, have led to the following narrative. 
 It may be that in the publication of it, the au-. 
 thor, or rather the editor, for letters constitute 
 the main portion, has overrated the interest of 
 the reading public in a life already before them,* 
 and a character which, whatever be its excel- 
 lencies, has long been familiar to the members 
 of his own communion, while to those beyond, 
 it can hardly be said to offer such claims as 
 render the biography of public men at all times 
 justifiable. 
 
 In the face of all these difficulties the editor 
 has ventured to publish, and can now only state 
 
 * To the biographies here alluded to, viz,, ' A Memorial of 
 Bishop Hobart,' by the Rev. J. P. Schroeder ; and the larger 
 ' Memoir' prefixed to his 'Works,' by the Rev. W. Berrian, D. D., 
 the editor would take this opportunity of making his acknow- 
 ledgments for several facts and statements, the original authori- 
 ties for which were not in his possession. 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 the feelings which have led him to it. When 
 he began the perusal of these early letters, they 
 seemed to him but as boyish effusions, of but little 
 value, and no interest beyond the family circle 
 to which they related ; but as he proceeded in 
 his task, their number and minuteness began to 
 give life to the picture they presented ; one by 
 one the features of character came forth, until 
 by degrees they embodied themselves into a 
 beautiful portraiture of an affectionate and gene- 
 rous youth — full of ardor and native piety, and 
 devoted to every noble and benevolent pursuit. 
 
 This is the editor's first apology, since if these 
 impressions be just, such a picture faithfully 
 given cannot be without both interest and value. 
 Virtue and piety want no reflected lustre from a 
 great name ; they are themselves the pure gold, 
 and truth and sincerity the only stamp they 
 need to give them currency. 
 
 The inclination thus excited to publish, a fur- 
 ther consideration converted into resolution. It 
 was this : Bishop Hobart's character was in one 
 respect greatly misunderstood by those who knew 
 him only in his public course. The untiring 
 energy with which he devoted himself to official 
 
PREFACE. 5 
 
 duty, was reputed by many to be personal ambi- 
 tion ; and the unyielding firmness of his opinions 
 as a Churchman, turned into an argument against 
 his vital piety as a Christian. The native hu- 
 mility of his heart, the depth of his devotional 
 feelings, the evangelical tone of his retired piety, 
 were matters either wholly unknown, or else 
 placed to the account of professional duties. 
 Now the correction of such false opinion is a debt 
 due alike to the reputation of Bishop Hobart, 
 and to that of the church over which he pre- 
 sided ; and in no way perhaps can it be more 
 effectually done, than by the exhibition of him 
 in the simplicity and open sincerity of youth ; 
 in days when there were no ambitious ends to 
 gain, or professional proprieties to support, and 
 in which neither fear nor favor can be supposed 
 to have operated, to blind the judgment of those 
 around him as to his real character. If we then 
 find him as a boy, what he afterward was as 
 a man, active, ardent, fearless, and devoted ; fer- 
 vent in feeling, but wise in action, bold in duty, 
 but childlike in piety, yielding in matters of ex- 
 pediency, but uncomprising in principle, gather- 
 ing around him wherever he went an attached 
 1* 
 
O PREFACE. 
 
 circle of friends and followers, and using his 
 influence over them to the wisest and best of 
 purposes — that of advancing them in know- 
 ledge and virtue, and above all, in that holy 
 faith, which from a child appears to have been 
 his own guide and instructer ; and if all this be 
 found not in the recollections of partial friends, 
 but in original documents which personal affec- 
 tion has preserved, then may we fairly answer 
 all such doubts as to the genuineness of his vir- 
 tues, by an appeal to the unpretending, but 
 unsuspected narrative of his ' Early Years.' 
 
 With this explanation the work is respectfully 
 submitted. 
 
 Columbia College, October 15, 1834. 
 
MEMOIR. 
 
 John Henry Hoeart was born at Philadel- 
 phia, September 14th, 1775, being the youngest 
 son of Enoch and Hannah (Pratt) Hobart. The 
 time and place of his birth connect his name 
 with the charter of our Political Independence, 
 and as well observed by his earliest biographer, 
 (Rev. J. F. Schroeder,) ' his strong patriotic 
 attachments in after life, his great fearlessness 
 in the defence of truth, and all the prominent 
 features of his character, mark him a worthy 
 child of the Revolution.' His ancestry, it may 
 be added, was also of the same strain, fervent in 
 spirit, and ardent in the cause of liberty. The 
 founder of the family in this our western world, 
 was an eminent leader among the Pilgrim fathers 
 of New-England, — Edmund Hobart, of Hing- 
 ham, county of Norfolk, (England,) who in 
 1633 quitted his native land, with wife and 
 children, to seek, or rather to found in the wilder- 
 ness a more peaceful home than England then 
 afforded to non-conformists ; while the feelings of 
 the unwilling emigrant appear in his bestowing 
 
MEMOIR OF 
 
 upon his new resting-place the title of his native 
 village ; the town of Hingham, Plymouth county, 
 Massachusetts, deriving from him both its name 
 and first settlement. Of colonies thus planted, 
 the success obviously depends upon the good 
 influence of wives as well as husbands ; in this 
 respect the town of Hingham was fortunate, 
 auch at least is the testimony of Cotton Mather. 
 ' Both he and his wife,' says that simple-hearted 
 narrator, in speaking of Edmund Hobart, ' were 
 eminent for piety, and even from their youth 
 feared God above many, wherein their zeal was 
 more conspicuous by the impiety of the neigh» 
 borhood.' From this worthy stock thus planted, 
 came forth a great company of preachers. Peter 
 Hobart, his son, was among the eminent men of 
 his age, at least in the new world. Educated 
 in all the learning of his father's land, he quitted 
 the University of Cambridge, (England,) to take 
 Orders in the Established Church, into which he 
 was admitted by the Bishop of Norwich. After 
 a fifw years, however, political or religious bias 
 threw him into the ranks of dissent ; as a Puritan 
 divine, he sought the shores of New-England ; 
 and joining his father's settlement at Hingham, 
 became the pastor of a patriarchal establishment. 
 With these words he begins his journal : ' June 
 8th, 1635. I, with my wife and four children, 
 came safely to New-England, for ever praised 
 
BISHOPHOBART. 9 
 
 be the God of heaven, my God and King.' 
 But this exclusive tone was the language, we 
 may believe, rather of the sect than the indi- 
 vidual, since though he was characterized as ' a 
 bold man that would speak his mind,' yet we 
 are also assured by the same annalist, that ' he 
 would admire the grace of God in good men, 
 though they were of sentiments contrary to his ;' 
 and that when he beheld some pragmatical in 
 controversies, and furiously set upon having all 
 things carried their way, and yet destitute of the 
 life and power of godliness, he would say, ' Some 
 men are all Church and no Christ.' He was 
 noted also as ' a morning student, and a gi'eat 
 example of temperance,' while his well studied 
 sermons are said to have been like their author, 
 • bold and independent, and fuller of exhortation 
 than of doctrine.' Such a man was well suited 
 to build up the new colony on the surest of all 
 foundations ; and there, according to the custom 
 of those more abiding times of ministerial service, 
 he continued to labor for forty-three years, until 
 called to his reward. Where he first pitched 
 his tent, there he set up his rest. 
 
 Of his eight sons, (for it.seems to have been 
 also in this sense a patriarchal race,) six were 
 graduated at Harvard, the newly founded uni- 
 versity of the colony; where, if they failed to 
 acquire all the learning of their father, they at 
 
10 MEMOIROF 
 
 least inherited his evangelical spirit ; five of the 
 eight becoming Gospel preachers. But his man- 
 tle of power seems rather to have fallen upon 
 his grandsons, among whom we find the names 
 of Brainerd, the apostolic missionary of the In- 
 dians, and the Rev. Noah Hobart, of Connecti- 
 cut, one who is described as having had in his 
 day 'few equals for greatness of genius and 
 learning.' The next generation brings us down 
 to our own day ; and in it we find, in addition to 
 the subject of our memoir, the name of the late 
 Hon. John Sloss Hobart, Judge of the District 
 Court in the State of New- York, of whom the 
 tablet raised to his memory by the bar over 
 which he presided, gives this high testimony of 
 inherited virtues, — ' as a man firm, as a citizen 
 zealous, as a judge discriminating, as a Chris- 
 tian sincere.' 
 
 Among the numerous descendants of this 
 ' Abraham' of our land in the third generation, 
 we find Captain Enoch Hobart, who following 
 the creed of his mother, and returning, it may 
 be added, to that of his fathers, attached himself 
 to the Protestant Episcopal Church established 
 in Philadelphia, a city which, throughhis father's 
 early removal, had become the place of his birth^ 
 His labors in life, though more worldly than 
 those of his immediate predecessors, do not seem, 
 however, to have been wanting in that spirit 
 
BISHOPHOEART. 11 
 
 which alone had sanctified them, the spirit of 
 vital piety, — the patriarchal memory of the 
 venerable Bishop White enabling him to recall 
 ' the very pew in Christ Church, Philadelphia, 
 where he was an habitual attendant with his 
 wife and children,' while a reputation for 
 strict integrity honorably gained and long re- 
 membered in the West India islands with 
 which he traded, shows that his religion was 
 one of practice as well as profession. From 
 the labors of the sea he retired in middle 
 life to the enjoyment of domestic peace, and a 
 very moderate competency. He died October 
 27th, 1776, leaving to his wife the usual inherit- 
 ance of widowed sorrow, and to his children 
 little beside a father's blessing, and the legacy 
 of a good name. But happily for them their 
 mother was not wanting in the energy requisite 
 to her desolate condition. ' She fulfilled her 
 duties toward them as has been well said, with 
 the prudence of a father's judgment, and the 
 tenderness of a mother's love.'* Out of nine 
 children, four had preceded their father to the 
 grave ; five remained, two sons and three daugh- 
 ters, to awaken a mother's solicitudes, as well as 
 console her solitary griefs. The youngest of 
 these, an infant of eleven months, who had been 
 
 ' Memoir,' p. 6. 
 
MEMOIR OF 
 
 baptized in Christ Church at the primitive age 
 of four weeks, under the name of John Henry, 
 was the subject of the following narrative, and 
 on him, as there naturally rested a double portidn 
 of her cares, so also perhaps of her widowed 
 affections. As years advanced, under her pious 
 instructions he was trained to that simple but 
 truest wisdom, which mothers can best teach ; 
 ' from his youth,' it is said, ' he knew the Scrip- 
 tures by means of the godly counsels which she 
 so faithfully inculcated.' Of such a picture it 
 is pleasing here to anticipate the result, and to 
 learn not only that her labors were blessed in 
 his eminent usefulness, but also that she herself 
 lived to witness the fruit of them ; that she was 
 spared not only to follow him with her prayers 
 in his preparation for the Church, but for five 
 happy years to be herself an attendant upon his 
 ministry — to be herself instructed by lips which 
 she had first taught to utter the words of hea- 
 venly wisdom, and to be comforted amid the 
 sorrows of age, by the watchful kindness and 
 the Christian consolations of one, over whose 
 infant head she had once wept and prayed the 
 tears and prayers of a disconsolate widowed 
 mother. Such is the boon with which Heaven 
 rewards those whom in love it chastens, and 
 such too we may add, looking at his future 
 course, is the blessing which a good mother may. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 13 
 
 in the providence of God, be the means of con- 
 ferring upon the Christian Church. 
 
 Of early indications of talent or character, 
 little can be told, ' because little has been re- 
 corded ; but by such as knew Bishop Hobart in 
 after life, it will readily be conceived that even 
 in earliest childhood he must have been *no 
 vulgar boy ;' that warmth of heart which no 
 intercourse with a cold and selfish world could 
 tame or lessen, and that prompt and fearless 
 energy which through life despised all danger 
 in the path of duty, are traits of nature which 
 must have appeared even from the cradle, and 
 made him as a child both lovely and interesting. 
 But whatever were the hopes he inspired, they 
 were confined to a narrow circle, 'laid up,' proba- 
 bly, only in the heart of his mother. That they 
 were not, however, wholly unnoticed by others, 
 we have the testimony of one early friend. ' I 
 have learned,' says Dr. B.,* 'from one who 
 knew him in early youth, and who was intimate 
 with his family, that his deportment, conversa- 
 tion, opinions, and habits, were the frequent and 
 favorite theme of their discourse ; and that they 
 often dwelt with delight on those incidents which 
 shadowed out the very character that he finally 
 established.' 
 
 ♦ The Rev. P. W. Beaseley, D. D. 
 
 3 
 
14 MEMOIROF 
 
 His first instruction after quitting his mother's 
 knee, was in the school of a Mr. Leslie, one 
 who is described as ' a respectable teacher, and 
 held deservedly in esteem.' His acquisitions 
 here were, however, dearly purchased, if as he 
 himself thought, and often said, was then laid 
 in his constitution, through the strict confine- 
 ment of the school, and the short time allowed 
 for relaxation and meals, the foundation of 
 that dyspeptic malady under which he always 
 labored, and eventually fell a victim. But this 
 charge may be doubted. The habit of ' bolting 
 his meals,' as he himself termed it, lest he 
 should be too late for recitation, was no doubt 
 very unfavorable to a healthy digestion ; but 
 the blame we may well imagine did not rest 
 altogether on the teacher. The boy who did all 
 things ardently, was not likely to waste much 
 time at the table, even when left to himself; for 
 he devoured his books, it would seem, as per- 
 tinaciously as he did his food, hastily, and paid 
 but the natural penalty of exchanging them too 
 rarely for bat and ball. ' I have ever felt,' says 
 he in one of his early letters, ' an almost insatia- 
 ble desire after knowledge.' In his ninth year, 
 (1784,) he came into higher hands. An acade- 
 my was organized in Philadelphia in that year, 
 under Episcopal influence, with a view to unite 
 what in education is too often divided, religious 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 15 
 
 instruction to form the character, and intel- 
 lectual instruction to furnish the mind. To this 
 Institution young Hobart was at once removed, 
 coming under the charge, if not immediately, 
 at least shortly after, of the Rev. Dr. Andrews, 
 subsequently Vice-Provost, and eventually Pro- 
 vost of the University in the same city. Here 
 he entered upon classical studies, — ' starting ex 
 limine,' says one of his surviving companions, 
 ' with his Latin Grammar and Accidence.' How 
 strikingly in accord were the characters of 
 teacher and scholar, has been well noticed by 
 Dr. B., and the probable influence of such 
 associations on the susceptible heart of the latter. 
 But it is due to the memory of Dr. Andrews, to 
 give the sketch of the teacher, as struck off by 
 the pen of one who shared in the benefit of his 
 instructions.* ' Dr. Andrews was known to be 
 one of the ripest classical scholars 'in the coun- 
 try. He had great skill and experience in teach- 
 ing, and never spared himself in the performance 
 of duty ; besides, in his very manners and appear- 
 ance, there was that which ' bespoke a man' — 
 all that conciliates affection and esteem, and 
 challenges profound respect. He was a Church- 
 man by education and conviction, of exalted 
 piety, and of that loftiness of character which 
 
 * William Meredith, Esq., of Philadelphia. 
 
16 MEMOIROF 
 
 was above the reach of the grovelling or crafty. 
 No man was at a loss to infer his motives or 
 purposes, either from his speech or actions. He 
 was consistent, open, and direct, for he was never 
 of that school of time-serving philosophers, with 
 whom policy is of more worth than sincerity and 
 truth. His passions and affections were power- 
 ful and ardent, and appeared the more so, as 
 the constitutional temperament of his body was 
 nervous ; but he governed them well, observing 
 the apostle's precept, ' Be ye angry and sin not.' 
 Malice and vindictiveness were unkuown to him, 
 and arrogance was contrary to his nature. In 
 short, a more frank, honorable, and upright 
 man, or a better specimen of a Christian gentle- 
 man, has never fallen within the range of my 
 observation. In the early history of the Ameri- 
 can Church, it is well known that he was 
 among the most able, sound, and zealous of her 
 sons.' 
 
 For four years young Hobart continueft to 
 enjoy the combined advantage of such a teacher 
 and model, the more operative in both charac- 
 ters, because he was equally loved and admired. 
 
 What the scholar was at this time, may be 
 judged from the recollections of the same com- 
 panion and friend. ' Labor vincit omnia, was one 
 of Hobart's earliest lessons, and his ruling senti- 
 ment. His improvement was marked accord- 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 17 
 
 ingly. His class-mates were all, I believe, his 
 seniors ; but he soon gained and kept, during his 
 whole course, the enviable distifaction of being 
 head in all their studies. He was often honored 
 by the open approbation of the principal, and his 
 example commended to imitation. The trustees 
 too, at the stated examinations, were liberal of 
 encomium, and the popular voice of the school 
 echoed their praise.' 
 
 The following graphic picture, from the same 
 pencil, however incongruous its associations 
 may be with the idea of a Right Reverend, is 
 yet in excellent keeping with our notions of a 
 fine spirited school-boy. ' Among boys, rank is 
 generally conceded more to bodily than intel- 
 lectual power. It was less the case in regard to 
 Hobart than usual. There were few of his 
 years who were not taller or more robust than 
 he ; but he was active, muscular, and well set, 
 and what was more than all these, he was of 
 approved courage ; hence he was looked upon as 
 a combatant to be respected, if not to be feared. 
 Besides, he was ever anxious to have his quarrel 
 just ; and in our little squabbles on the play- 
 ground, and more serious rencontres, we often 
 heard him maintaining its justice by impassioned 
 harrangues, which in vehemence might well 
 have suited one of Homer's heroes. The singu- 
 larity of these exercises, whether they convinced 
 2* 
 
18 M EMO I R OF 
 
 or not, amused us, and often made strife and 
 anger give place to mirth and good humor. The 
 parley afforded time at least for cooling and 
 diversion from the cause of irritation ; but if the 
 onset were once made, I cannot remember an 
 instance in which our young friend turned his 
 back upon the foe, whether he was destined at 
 last to be crowned victor, or to yield in defeat. 
 There was also a manly robustness of intellect 
 seldom seen in boyhood — perseverance, which 
 a feeble discerner might term obstinacy, a high 
 sense of honor, and an independence of spirit and 
 action which humbled itself only before lawful 
 authority. He was valiant as Cesar. He set 
 great value upon reason and justice, and think- 
 ing they ever should prevail, he always seemed 
 to believe they would, if properly enforced. One 
 instance, and but one is recollected, in which he 
 was the subject of corporal chastisement in the 
 academy. It was inflicted by Mr. E., a tutor, 
 who was an exceeding good scholar, but a most 
 unamiable man. There had been some dis- 
 orderly conduct, and Hobart was charged as 
 being a party to it. He replied with coolness 
 and respectfulness, ' I had nothing to do with it.' 
 Such was the fact. ' Who made the noise 
 then V inquired the angry tutor. ' I did not,' 
 answered the accused. Punishment followed 
 for his refusal to inculpate others. There was 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 19 
 
 profound silence — he submitted. And I remem- 
 ber the stateliness with which he returned to his 
 place, while a buzz of applaiise sounded through 
 the room : the triumph was his, while the de- 
 feat was E.'s, who was shortly after dismissed. 
 His powers as a declaimer were considered on all 
 hands as very remarkable ; yet in this he would 
 be his own teaclier, and have his own way, 
 which was somewhat peculiar. One of his favor- 
 ite speeches was the popular speech of Cassius 
 on the (ambition of Julius Cesar.) He had 
 studied it well, and gave it with admirable 
 effect ; but there was one line, in which though 
 never failing to produce ill-timed smiles, and 
 sometimes laughter among the other dramatis 
 personcB, he ever persisted in perpetrating the 
 same ludicrous fault.' 
 
 Such a character was one for love as well as 
 praise ; and he seems accordingly to have gained 
 both, equally from companions and teachers. 
 Among the trustees also thei'e was one who 
 watched with peculiar interest over the father- 
 less boy, the (ftesent venerable Bishop White ; 
 who may with peculiar propriety be termed his 
 spiritual parent, his apostolic hands having 
 successively baptized, confirmed, ordained, and 
 consecrated him ; and last of all, mourned over 
 him as a father mourns over a beloved son. 
 
 In this academy his active social spirit soon 
 
20 MEMOIROF 
 
 found materials to work with. He organized 
 while but in his tenth year an association among 
 the boys, under the lofty title of ' A Society for 
 the Advancement of its Members in Useful 
 Literature,' of which Lilliputian club, as but 
 two records remain, the reader may be curious 
 to see them. The first involved a nice question 
 of law ; Mr. W. being called upon for an essay, 
 delivers an argument instead, justifying his non- 
 preparation by the plea that his turn was past, a 
 quorum not appearing at the preceding meet- 
 ing. The brief of this youthful apologist is 
 remitted to his friend Hobart with the following 
 endorsement : ' Mr. W.'s compliments to Mr. 
 H., and would be obliged to him, if after adding 
 any arguments to the within, he would show it 
 to Mr. B., &c. Thursday, 25th April, 1785,' 
 Tlje other document exhibits the care with 
 which their scanty treasury was guarded ; it 
 consists of a bill against the society for three- 
 quarters of a yard of green baize, used in cover- 
 ing the speaker's desk, together with lock and 
 hinges for the same, amounting^n the whole to 
 four shillings and nine-pence. This account, 
 after being examined and signed by an auditing 
 committee, as warrant for its accuracy, stands 
 finally endorsed by the president, with an order 
 on the treasurer * to pay the same out of moneys 
 not otherwise appropriated, belonging to the 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 21 
 
 society.' With so well-guarded a treasury, th'is 
 society escaped one frequent cause of ruin : it 
 could not guard, however, against a more fatal 
 blow, the early removal of its founder to another 
 and higher school, where, however, the associa- 
 tion seems to have re-appeared under a new 
 though less imposing title. 
 
 Among other childish records preserved by a 
 mother's care of this early period, is the follow- 
 ing letter, evincing at least two good traits in a 
 school-boy, — love of books, and filial submission. 
 
 ' According to my promise, I attempt writing 
 to my dear Mamma, knowing that it will give 
 her pleasure to hear from me. I got to town safe 
 on Friday, at about 4, to my great joy, as the cold 
 was very intense. If my dear mother recollects I 
 bought some time ago, Elegant Extracts in prose, 
 I have since I came to town taken out of the libra- 
 ry Elegant Extracts in verse, and find it abounds 
 with so many pieces proper for speaking, that I 
 cannot avoid asking my dear Mamma's permis- 
 sion to buy it. I cannot get it out of the library 
 again, as it is a book so much sought after, that 
 if I had not gone to the library the first day of 
 its opening, I should not have got it. Even if I 
 could, it would be necessary for me to take it to 
 school, where it would, perhaps, meet with 
 abuse ; and as the Extracts which I now have 
 are not so valuable without the other, I hope you 
 
aa MEMOIROF 
 
 will consent to my buying it : Sister Becky can 
 give testimony to its merit.' 
 
 Such a coaxing petitioner was not, it seems, 
 easily refused, and his next letter thus com- 
 mences : ' I have just time to inform my dear 
 Mamma that I am too sensible of her kindness 
 in permitting me to buy 'Elegant Extracts,' 
 ever to exact any thing from her again.' 
 
 From the Episcopal academy he was removed 
 in due course of advance, as already hinted at, 
 to the University of Pennsylvania. The same 
 pre-eminence in his studies here also awaited 
 him, for his academic virtues rested on no sandy 
 foundation. Busy he would have been at any 
 rate, because by nature he hated idleness ; but 
 that he was busy ifl good things, was a matter 
 not so much of nature as principle, and he used 
 well his opportunities of improvement, because 
 he felt that he must render an account of them. 
 How early such conscientious impressions may 
 become rooted in the mind of a child, it is not 
 easy to say : this at least we know, that it is 
 the smallest of all seeds, and grows up, men 
 know not how ; but still it is easy, as here, to 
 recognise its fruits, and every such instance be- 
 comes a valuable record, in order to encourage 
 parents in the same course of watchful Christian 
 guidance. In his fifteenth year, young Hobart 
 gave evidence of his mind being made up on 
 
BISHOP HOBAET. 33 
 
 this point, and made a public profession of his 
 religious faith, being confirmed by Bishop White, 
 31st March, 1790. Aided by good talents, and 
 guided by such principles, we are not surprised 
 to learn, that although the youngest in his class, 
 he was yet considered ' one of its best and most 
 promising scholars.' In study laborious, in all 
 his duties faithful, in affections warm, in action 
 prompt, and in speech sincere and earnest, ' he 
 showed forth,' as has been observed by one of 
 his early companions, ' the same ardent and 
 active mind which was so fully developed in 
 subsequent life.' How he appeared to strangers, 
 is well given by one whom chance about this 
 time made a friend. ' I first met with him,' says 
 Mr. R.,* "in the month of September, 1791, 
 when he was about sixteen years of age. He 
 had a short time before left the University of 
 Pennsylvania, and it was decided by his family, 
 and approved of by himself, that he should finish 
 his collegiate education at Princeton. I then 
 resided in the family of Robert Smith, of Phila- 
 delphia, who was married to a sister of Mr. 
 Hobart. It was in this family that I became 
 acquainted with him. Lhave at this time a dis- 
 tinct and lively recollection of our first meeting, 
 and of the general tenor of our conversation 
 
 * James Robertson, Esq., of Richmond, Virginia. 
 
S54 MEMOIROF 
 
 during the evening which we spent together; 
 and before we parted, I formed an attachment 
 to him which I have never ceased to cherish. 
 He was between two and three years younger 
 than I was, and had been, from the usual age, 
 employed in the appropriate studies preparatory 
 to a classical education. On the other hand, 
 mine had been very limited, confined to our 
 own language, and what was usually taught in 
 a common English school. Notwithstanding 
 these differences, however, in our previous occu- 
 pations and pursuits, and in our views and pros- 
 pects of after life, we became friends at once; 
 At the very first interview we felt entire confi- 
 dence in each other, and entered fully into each 
 other's feelings, wishes, and hopes. He looked 
 forward with pleasure to the many advantages 
 which Princeton then held forth to young men 
 who would faithfully avail themselves of them, 
 while I, with a strong desire for improvement, 
 was doomed to drudge at an employment always 
 irksome to me, but which necessarily occupied 
 the most of my time and attention. He cheered 
 me, however, and even at that early period of 
 life, pressed upon ine, from the weightiest of all 
 considerations, the duty of being reconciled to 
 my situation, — urging, that while I faithfully 
 discharged the duties which it imposed upon me, 
 and made the best use of the leisure that might 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 25 
 
 be left, I would probably be gaining that kind of 
 information which would contribute as much to 
 my own happiness and to my usefulness in 
 society, as if I were to devote the whole of my 
 time to literary pursuits. I have never forgotten 
 his suggestions ; and if I have not realized the 
 hopes which his animating conversation led me 
 to indulge, my disappointment has not lessened 
 my confidence in the soundness and sincerity of 
 his advice.' 
 
 Young Hobart entered the University before 
 he had completed his thirteenth year. Here 
 also an association among the students for the 
 purpose of improving themselves in composition 
 and oratory, quickly appeared under the more 
 learned title of the ' Philomatfaean Society.' Its 
 rules and regulations have come down to us in 
 his boyish hand, whence we may fairly conjec- 
 ture that he was its founder. One provision 
 strongly marks his character, viz. the necessity of 
 supervision in the case of all who haveTesponsi- 
 ble duties to perform : * Sect. 13. A committee 
 of three shall be appointed at the meeting previ- 
 ous to the annual election, to examine in what 
 manner the secretary and treasurer have done 
 their duty, and shall make report thereon at the 
 next meeting.' In after life he used on all 
 occasions to urge this principle. As a trustee of 
 Columbia College, the question often came up, 
 3 
 
S!b MEMOIROP 
 
 and to a near friend among its professors, who 
 sometimes thought such a course of supervision 
 argued a want of confidence in them, he would 
 urge this reply : ' No sir, not a want of confi- 
 dence in you, but in human nature : it is part 
 of a system of duties ; — you are to see that the 
 students do their duty — we are to see that the 
 professors do their duty ; and it would be well 
 for the college if there were some who would do 
 the same good office by us, and see that we, the 
 trustees, do ours.' Nor were the duties of mem- 
 bers under this young mentor to be less strictly 
 enforced than those of their officers, as may 
 appear from the following list of fines : 
 
 ' Sect. 18. For absence the whole evening, a member 
 
 shall be fined 
 
 12 pence. 
 
 For absence at roll-call, 
 
 2 pence. 
 
 " till one hour after 
 
 
 roll-call, 
 
 6 pence. 
 
 For neglecting to bring an 
 
 
 essay, 
 
 12 pence. 
 
 For neglecting to deliver an 
 
 
 oration. 
 
 8 pence. 
 
 For not debating. 
 
 12 pence. 
 
 Beside being subject to domiciliary visits to ascertain 
 
 the causes of absence.' 
 
 
 From no further notice appearing of this 
 society among his juvenile papers, and from the 
 circumstance of another similar one shortly after 
 calling forth all his ardor, it may be presumed 
 
BISHOP HO BART. 27 
 
 that the ' Philomathean' came to an early end. 
 Whether that fate arose from such over-strictness 
 in enforcing duty^ as might well have made the 
 members,. Spartan like, prefer war to peace, for 
 the sake of a little repose, and the reality of study 
 to the show^ of reliaxation ; or from the weight of 
 fines, which as all school-boys know, come very 
 unwillingly out of youthful pockets ; or lastly, 
 from the tedium of the occupation prescribed for 
 the leisure time of the members, viz. that it 
 should be filled up by the president's reading 
 aloud to them ' a portion out of some approved 
 treatise on rhetoric,' it is impossible now to say. 
 Suffice it to add, that the ' Ciceronean' soon 
 succeeded to the ' Philomathean ;' and from a 
 farewell address that has come down to us, made 
 to it by young Hobart in the year 1797, previous 
 to his taking Orders, appears to have enjoyed a 
 more prolonged and vigorous existence. He 
 had, probably by this time, learned wisdom by 
 experience, and made a little more allowance 
 for indolence in its members, and furnished fpr 
 their leisure moments a more agreeable relaxa- 
 tion than the pages of Quintilian or Blair. 
 
 Of this third society also, the ' rules and regu- 
 lations' appear, by the draft preserved, to have 
 come from his pen. To what cause of offence 
 the following official communication, relates, 
 there is no further evidence to explain. 
 
28 MEMOIROF 
 
 To Mr. John H. Hobart. 
 
 Saturday, 13ft December, 1789. 
 Sir, — The prtsident and mertibers of the Ciceronian 
 Society having promised themselves a happiness in 
 having you continue a member of the institution, had 
 their expectation frustrated by the perusal of your 
 polite letter of 28th ultimo. They, while reluctantly 
 accepting your resignation, cannot refrain from inform- 
 ing you, that although your resignation is accepted, 
 they flatter themselves that vifhen the impediments you 
 speak of are removed, you will have it in your power 
 to associate with them. In the meantime, your con- 
 tinuance as an honorary member would oblige them, 
 and in some degree perhajis benefit yourself. 
 Signed by order of the society, 
 
 James D. Westcott, Pres. 
 Attest, James MilNob, Sec'ry. 
 
 Whatever were the difficulties in the society 
 here alluded to, it would seem they were soon 
 removed, for we shortly after meet with him an 
 active and influential member, and eventually 
 its head and leader. 
 
 Before that event, however, we find him play- 
 ing an important part in the impeachment of the 
 president, for high and grave misdemeanors. 
 The articles bear the signature of John Henry 
 Hobart in such manner as to indicate him as 
 their author. They are as follows, and strongly 
 display what in life he always manifested, a 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 29 
 
 spirit that rose in rebellion against all tyrannical 
 exercise of power : the illustration they aflford of 
 character, must he the apology for their intro- 
 duction. 
 
 ' ARTICLES OF IMPEACHMENT. 
 
 Whereas, we the subscribers, deem it of the highest 
 importance to the welfare of the Ciceronian Society, 
 that a watchful eye be kept on the conduct of its 
 officers, lest they exceed the bounds of their authority 
 prescribed by the constitution : And whereas, we also 
 think that when • they have exceeded such bounds, 
 those measures should be pursued which the constitu- 
 tion directs : 
 
 Therefore, we viewing Aquila M. Bolton, president 
 of this Society, as having usurped authority not dele- 
 gated to him by the Society, do respectfully offer the 
 following articles of impeachment against him, the said 
 president, at the same time assuring the Society, that 
 in this proceeding we are actuated entirely by a desire 
 to promote the welfare of the institution. 
 
 Article \. — That the said Aquila M. Bolton has 
 tyrannically obstructed that freedom of debate which is 
 the privilege of every member of this institution, by 
 interrupting the members frequently, and calling them 
 to order when their behavior has not been disorderly. 
 
 Article 2. — That the said Aquila M. Bolton has 
 usurped the privilege of speaking repeatedly upon ques- 
 tions pending before the Society, without their leave. 
 
 Articles. — That the said Aquila M. Bolton has 
 refused to put a question, although unanimously called 
 upon by the Society. 
 3* 
 
30 MEMOIROF 
 
 Article 4. — That the said Aquila M. Bolton, incon- 
 sistent with the character of a good officer, has suffered 
 personal motives to actuate his conduct as president. 
 
 Articles. — That the said Aquila M. Bolton has 
 arbitrarily imposed fines for misbehavior.' 
 
 The defence of this youthful Cesar, as drawn 
 up and delivered by himself, has fortunately 
 also escaped the ravages of time, and exhibits a 
 spirit that might well grace a usurper. It opens 
 as follows : 
 
 'Whereas, I, Aquila M. Bolton, deem it of the 
 highest irhportance to the vpelfare of this institution, 
 that the officers of this Society should not befactiously 
 divested of those povyers granted to them by the con- 
 stitution, and which are absolutely requisite to preserve 
 that order and regularity in the Society, without which 
 no business can be transacted without confusion : And 
 whereas I also think, that where they have in a peaceful 
 and proper manner exerted their power to the utmost, 
 when such an exertion was necessary, but have not 
 exceeded such prescribed bounds, their conduct should 
 not be impeached, but on the contrary applauded : 
 And whereas also, an impeachment has been presented 
 against me as president of this Society, without suffi- 
 cient grounds to support it — Therefore, it is incumbent 
 on me to justify myself from the censure of my fellow- 
 members. Wherefore, trusting to my innocence, 
 relying on the rectitude of my intentions toward pre- 
 serving the honor of the Society from the insults of one 
 or two members, and hoping to meet with an impartial 
 hearing, I beg leave to lay before the members of the 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 31 
 
 Society the following answers to the charges exhibited 
 against me in the said impeachment.' 
 
 This defence occupies nine folio pages, and is 
 marked both by candor and ingenuity. On 
 the subject of the' second charge, he says, ' T 
 acknowledge myself guilty of speaking on ques- 
 tions without the leave of the Society ; but then 
 I assert I have that right — that all preceding 
 presidents have exercised it — that there is no law 
 forbidding it, — and that all the members of the 
 Society united cannot, without the most flagrant 
 injustice, impeach my conduct. In this respect 
 I did not violate, I acted agreeably to the con- 
 stitution. Whereas, by impeaching me on this 
 article^ you who so vote become the trans- 
 gressors, and violate that constitution you pre- 
 tend to be so tenacious of protecting.' The 
 charge contained in another article, he thus 
 rebuts : ' Consider in what a perplexed situation 
 I then was, sitting as president, called upon to 
 do the duties of the oflSce, opposed by one who 
 undertook to officiate in my stead. But thanks 
 to our excellent constitution, there was a means 
 of silencing this upstart, by the exercise of ano- 
 ther power lodged in the breast of the president — 
 I mean that of fining members for disorderly 
 behavior. I had recourse to this expedient. I 
 was not afraid of doing my duty. I expected I 
 should have been supported by you. I fined 
 
32 MEMOIROF 
 
 Mr. Hobart, therefore, for the gross misbehavior 
 of preventing the president from doing that duty, 
 for the not doing of which he is here impeached. 
 I am not sorry I did so ; it is a matter of exulta- 
 tion to me. After thus fining the secretary, he 
 (to his honor be it spoken,) informed the Society 
 he would pay his fine. Notwithstanding this 
 declaration, a member, (Mr. M;,) without ad- 
 dressing himself as is usual to the president, 
 said, ' he moved that the Society do remit Mr. 
 Hobart's fine,' Upon this a question of remis- 
 sion was called for. This question I refused to 
 put. I told the Society that 1 could not, and 
 would not put that question. This declaration 
 of mine gave offence. I will justify it. The 
 power of fining is discretionary with the presi- 
 dent — I as president, exerted this power. I 
 fined the secretary as a reprehension for his 
 conduct. I conceived his conduct was repre- 
 hensible, and agreeably to the constitution, not 
 contrary to it, I fined him nine-pence.' In an- 
 swer to the fourth charge, he justifies himself 
 on the score of wounded gentlemanly feelings. 
 ' When gentlemen,' says he, ' censured the com- 
 mittee, who wrote the letter to Mr. Wagner, 
 I, not as president, but as a private member and 
 chairman of that committee, denied the charge. 
 They repeated the censure, when I spoke as 
 president, in precisely these words : ' The com- 
 
BISHOP HOB ART. 33 
 
 mittee denies it.' Sure any member must be 
 sensible that such a denial was admissible, and 
 certainly, gentlemen, you will admit that because 
 I was president, I was not therefore debarred 
 from defending my conduct as a committee man. 
 If this should be so judged,' what member, pos- 
 sessed of common sense, would accept of the 
 presidentship 1 I,, as an individual, would con- 
 temn the office. Since, although charges against 
 such were unfounded, as in.the present instance, 
 they would yet appear valid, because uncontra- 
 dicted.' 
 
 He concludes his spirited defence in these 
 indignant words : ' Upon the whole, gentle- 
 men, you the members of this Society, are to 
 decide whether I am guilty of misbehavior in 
 the execution of the presidentship, as charged 
 in the impeachment, or whether I am not. 
 Consider well — lay your hand on your heart 
 and decide justly. I ask no lenity — I wish a just 
 decision. I covet nobody's vote — nay, I wish 
 none to vote ' not guilty,' without being clearly 
 of opinion that I am innocent. . Your suffrages 
 will exist on the journal — they w^ill remain as 
 a stigma or an honor. To each independent 
 voter on this impeachment, this defence is sub- 
 mitted by their friend and fellow-member, 
 
 Aquila M. Bolton.' 
 
34 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 The minutes of the meeting, ' Thursday, 
 July 28th, 1790,' contain the eventful result of 
 this high trial. ' On motion that the articles of 
 impeachment be taken up, the president left the 
 chair, and Mr. Westcott being placed therein, 
 the articles of impeachment were read, and after 
 defence made, the question taken upon each 
 stood thus : on the first, third, and fifth, guilty ; 
 on the second and fourth, not guilty. The 
 sentence was one of disgrace, viz. ' That Aquila 
 M. Bolton, president of the Ciceronian Society, 
 for the offences of which he has now been con- 
 victed, be reprimanded by the president pro tern., 
 which was done accordingly.' But the indignity 
 touched too keenly this high-spirited youth, to 
 permit him to remain in oflice. ' Mr. Bolton,' the 
 minutes go on to say, 'then informed the Society, 
 that in consequence of this condemnation, which 
 he could but think was extremely unjust, and by 
 which he thought all reciprocity of good offices 
 between the president and members was ended, 
 he conceived he was not bound to continue in 
 an office for which he had now imbibed an aver- 
 sion, and therefore he peremptorily abdicated the 
 office of president of this Society.' 
 
 Now whether this were a case of tyranny 
 successfully resisted, or of a firmness too inde- 
 pendent to be popular, cannot at the present day 
 be very clearly arrived at. Montesquieu seiys. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 35 
 
 ' Wo to the character of a prince who falls un- 
 der a successful rebellion.' And here unques- 
 tionably the secretary has the history in his own 
 hands ; yet even from his eneinies' showing, Bol- 
 ton played well the hero's part, and seems to have 
 had hard measure dealt to him, especially wheix 
 at the ensuing meeting, he moved a 'declaration 
 of a bill of rights to be entered on the minutes, 
 immediately after the determination of the im- 
 peachment;' a motion which the Society thought 
 proper indefinitely to postpone the consideration 
 of. Whether this individual be living or dead, 
 the editor knows not, nor even whether he grew 
 up to man's estate ; most probably not, since 
 he certainly displayed in this youthful contest, 
 talent, that in life could not have been hid, and 
 traits of character that must have made such 
 talent not only respected, but feared. 
 
 How far the part which young Hobart took 
 in this matter, in which he stood forth as ' the 
 Hampden' of their liberties, endeared him to the 
 Society, can only be surmised. It is certain, 
 however, that after a short interval, he became 
 the popular candidate for the highest office, and 
 was accordingly placed in the presidential chair. 
 An extract from the minutes of that date may 
 serve to show, from the subjects selected for 
 debate,^ that the ' amor patrias' was still burning 
 fiercely in the bosoms of members. 
 
3b MEMOIROF 
 
 'Saturday, 2d October, 1790. 
 ' Society met. Mr. Purnell presented an essay on 
 oratory. Mr. Morgan delivered an oration 'on the 
 advantage of a strict adherence to truth.' The Society 
 then proceeded to debate the question, ' whether Brutus 
 was to be justified in ordering his two sons to be put to 
 death :' the question being taken, it was determined in 
 the affirmative. The Society then proceeded to the 
 election of president, when upon casting up the votes, 
 it appeared that John Henry Hobart was duly elected, 
 Mr. O. Wilson proposed the following as the subject of 
 debate for the next meeting — (whether suggested by 
 the result of the election is not said) — ' Was Brutus 
 justifiable in killing Cesar V ' 
 
 The secretary thus becoming president, we 
 have no more rough minutes to refer to ; so 
 that whether the second Brutus received an 
 equally lenient verdict with his great ancestor, 
 and whether any comparison was drawn between 
 the tyranny of Cesar and that of Bolton, or be- 
 tween Hobart and the 'last of the Romans,' 
 must now be left , to conjecture. The whole 
 history, however, marks it to have been one of 
 exciting interest, and shows how the talents of 
 the man may be called forth by the discussions 
 of the boy. 
 
 As young Hobart removed in the course of 
 the following winter to the College at Princeton, 
 where higher duties and a more manly competi- 
 tion awaited him, we hear but little after this of 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 37 
 
 the ' Ciceronian Society.' His resignation of 
 the presidency, which was thus rendered neces- 
 sary, was at least under more agreeable cir- 
 cumstances than his great predecessor's. The 
 following letter from a fellow member, is the 
 only further record in relation to its interests. 
 
 ' Philadelphia, April 5lh, 1791. 
 My dear friend, 
 
 I have nothing to plead in excuse for not having 
 answered your last acceptable favor, except the want 
 of a convenient opportunity. My friend, Mr. W. 
 Langdon, will now hand you this. I frequently think 
 of you, my dear fellow, with pleasure, when I consider 
 how advantageously you are employing your time in 
 the pursuit of those studies which will not only be 
 honorable to yourself, but beneficial to mankind. And 
 I sometimes have the vanity to suppose that you also, 
 in a leisure moment, think of me ; and that you will 
 participate in a degree with me in the pleasure I have 
 in informing you, that although the success I meet with 
 in prosecuting my , studies, cannot equal yours, on 
 account of the difference in our capacities and inclina- 
 tion for study ; yet that I make a progress at present 
 much more satisfactory to myself, than ^ in the former 
 part of my reading. I wish, my dear Hobart, you 
 would fix on the profession of the law: I can without 
 flattery say, that I think you admirably calculated for 
 it, both from genius and an apt method of delivering 
 your sentiments, one of the greatest essentials to the 
 advocate. Although I am delighted to hear of your 
 success, yet I wish you may not injure your health by 
 too close a confinement. The vacation, I suppose, 
 4 
 
38 MEMOIROF 
 
 will soon commence, which will be a relaxation to your 
 mind, and to which I loolc forward with pleasure, under 
 a hope that I may once more enjoy your agreeable 
 converse. I have just time (as ray friend waits,) to 
 inform you that I am no longer a member of the Cice- 
 ronian Society. I found its business to interfere with 
 my studies so much, as to oblige me to resign my seat, 
 and request the privileges of an honorary member. 
 Do write soon, and believe me to be, in haste, your 
 sincere friend, James Milnob.' 
 
 It is worthy of note, that this advocate for the 
 law, himself in middle age, became the apologist 
 for a holier cause ; and that thus these com- 
 panions in boyhood, widely separated, met again 
 after many years, in the relation of bishop and 
 pastor, in a city to which both were then stran- 
 gers, and in a sacred profession to which at that 
 time the attention of neither was turned. The 
 last notice of the Ciceronian Society appears 
 in a letter of Mr. Hobart in 1794, tendering his 
 resignation as a member, on the ground of his 
 second removal to Princeton, and concluding 
 with these words : ' Be assured that my convic- 
 tion of the improvement to be derived from the 
 Society remains as strong as ever, and that for 
 those members with whom I have a personal 
 acquaintance, I feel that regard which a know- 
 ledge of their merit will ever excite.' 
 
 After three years spent in a University whose 
 course of study was at that time far from 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 39 
 
 answering its lofty title, he was removed for 
 his further improvement to Princeton College, 
 New-Jersey — entering upon the junior, or 
 third year in advance. Nassau Hall was then 
 at the height of its popularity, perhaps of its 
 strength ; its president was ' the learned and 
 able Witherspoon,' its vice-president ' the ac- 
 complished and eloquent Stanhope Smith.' Of 
 both these gentlemen young Hobart conciliated 
 the esteem ; with the latter he contracted an 
 intimate and enduring friendship. 
 
 Of the two years here spent in academic 
 retirement, records remain more full than gene- 
 rally survive the lapse of so many years ; and 
 which show this period of bis life to have been 
 equally happy and improving. At the end of 
 the first year he thus writes : ' Could I have 
 enjoyed the company of my dear relations, no 
 one year of nay life, I think I can say, has 
 passed so agreeably, and I hope I may add, 
 with so much benefit. Another will, I trust, 
 pass away with as much pleasure, and as much 
 improvement ; and then my destination in life 
 must be fi?;ed. Whatever' that may be, in 
 whatever course of action I may be engaged, 
 I shall strive to merit the esteem of my friends, 
 and above all, the approbation of my conscience, 
 which I think I may say is not as yet stained 
 with any voluntary offences ; and I shall always 
 
40 MEMOIROF 
 
 feel most grateful to my dear relations for the 
 means of improvement which I now enjoy.' Ah 
 extract from one of his last letters will serve to 
 show that he was not disappointed in this antici- 
 pation. ' The time draws near,' says he, ' when 
 I shall leave college ; and though the thoughts 
 of being again united to my friends, aflFords me 
 the gre£i.test pleasure ; yet the idea of leaving a 
 place where I have spent so many happy hours, 
 of dissolving connexions which next to the ties 
 of nature are the most dear, cannot but con- 
 siderably alloy the happiness I hope. I feel, 
 however, that a life of study and retirement is 
 not a life of usefulness, and although my happiest 
 days may be past, I look forward with trust that 
 my most useful ones are yet to come.' 
 
 His own letters, during this period, are neces- 
 sarily dispersed ; but those addressed to him 
 seem to have been all carefully preserved ; the 
 recollections too of the surviving companions of 
 his studies, though few in number, are yet vivid 
 and sufficiently minute. 
 
 The general results are well summed up by 
 his early biographer. ' Habitual cheerfulness, 
 great ardor and success in study, social habits, 
 winning manners, and a peaceful disposition — 
 a well balanced mind, prompt and able elocu- 
 tion, native talent, persevering industry, and pure 
 morals, compose the wreath of praise awarded 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 41 
 
 to him when on classic ground.'* But to give 
 the language of actual recollection, ' He was 
 distinguished,' says Dr. Otto, ' for an unusual 
 gayety of temper, without the least mixture 
 of levity or thoughtlessness. His voice was 
 good, and his ear musical ; and he used occa- 
 sionally, for his own and our amusement, to 
 sing early in the morning before we arose. His 
 temperament was ardent, and he studied with 
 diligence both from a love of useful knowledge, 
 and a laudable ambition to be honorably distin- 
 guished. The untiring zeal which he displayed 
 so conspicuously in after life, in the performance 
 of whatever he deemed his duty, was a part of 
 his natural character, and manifested itself at 
 college. His habits were very social, and during 
 those hours which he devoted to recreation, he 
 mixed freely in the company of the most distin- 
 guished students, being most intimate, as is 
 usual, with the members of the literary Society 
 to which he belonged. But from the great 
 urbanity of his manners, and his high standing, 
 he was much respected by all. I do not recol- 
 lect that during the whole time we resided 
 together, any incident occurred which suspended 
 for a moment our friendly feelings toward each 
 other. He loved peace and harmony, and zeal- 
 
 * ' Memorial,' P- 20. 
 
 4* 
 
42 MEMOIROF 
 
 ously exercised his powerful influence in com- 
 posing the difTerences that occasionally take 
 place where many youths live together. His 
 strong sense of propriety, and his inflexible 
 justice, gave him great weight on these occa- 
 sions. There was no one branch of study, as 
 far as my memory serves me, that especially 
 engaged his attention, or to which he showed a 
 decided preference. He was well acquainted 
 with the whole course prescribed. His mind 
 was vigorous and well balanced, none of the 
 faculties being in an undue proportion.' 
 
 A few extracts from his mother's letters may 
 serve to throw light on her character, as well as 
 the domestic circumstances of the family. The 
 following are taken from a bundle carefully pre- 
 served and endorsed by the aflfectionate child to 
 whom they were addressed. They give the 
 natural picture of the watchful timid tenderness 
 of a solitary mother. Had we his in return, 
 we should be enabled better to judge how well 
 that tenderness was merited. At the period 
 of his going to Princeton, she was residing, at 
 least temporarily, with her married daughter 
 at Abingdon, Pennsylvania, whence she thus 
 writes her son on the subject of his removal : 
 
 ' I am pleased with your dutiful and affectiotiate 
 letter ; from that and your sister's, the reasons for your 
 desiring to go to Princeton seem so well founded, and 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 43 
 
 the advantage that it may be to you appears so great, 
 that I cannot refuse my consent. I never doubted the 
 goodness of your own heart — my fears have been, lest 
 the influence of bad example should overcome your 
 own good resolutions ; but I have so much confidence 
 in you, my dear John, that I shall rely on your assur- 
 ance for the rectitude of your conduct in every respect. 
 I hope all I shall have to regret will be, that I have not 
 the company of my dear child ; but I iind I must be 
 deprived of that too much, whether you go from home 
 or not. I want very much to be with you, my dear 
 son, but still I have a full hope and confidence that 
 your love of goodness, and your love of me, will pre- 
 serve you from the influence of bad example ; my 
 heart is full of tenderness, but I cannot write what I 
 feel. That Providence may make you his peculiar 
 care, and overrule all your actions, is the earnest 
 prayer of, my dear John, your affectionate mother, 
 
 H. HOBAET.' 
 
 Soon after his establishment, she writes him 
 from Philadelphia as follows : 
 
 ' I am happy to hear, my dear John, that you got 
 safe to Princeton, and that you are so agreeably situated 
 there ; may you and I never have reason to regret that 
 you went. It is now very inconvenient for your 
 brother to spare the money you write for, but he will 
 send it if he possibly can, as he would rather submit to 
 difficulties himself, than subject you to them. You 
 will remember, my dear, to keep a daily account of 
 your expenses ; you know the necessity there is for 
 frugality, so that I shall not urge you on that subject. 
 It will contribute to your happiness to hear that we do 
 
44 MEMOIROF 
 
 very well without you ; we miss you very much to be 
 sure, but the hope that it will prove best for you that 
 we should be separated for a time, will help us to 
 bear it with what cheerfulness we can. You may be 
 assured you have the best wishes, and the most tender 
 aifection, of yours, 
 
 H. HOBART.' 
 
 ' Philadelphia, December ISlh, 1791. 
 Prom my dear Johh's letters of the 7th and 14th 
 instant, I have the pleasure of finding you are well, 
 and continue still satisfied with your situation. I am 
 almost afraid to tell you how much I wish to see you 
 at Christmas, for several reasons. One is, lest your 
 absence from college should interfere with your studies, 
 and be a disadvantage to you on that account. Another 
 is, the probability that the weather will be very cold, 
 and travelling very disagreeable at that time, and my 
 exceeding apprehension of danger in crossing the ferry, 
 which you must do twice if you come and return again ; 
 we ought not to wish, my dear John, to gratify our 
 inclinations at the expense of discretion. If you find 
 it will be in any way detrimental to leave your studies, 
 don't do it — if there is any appearance of danger, don't 
 risk it ; but in either of these cases submit to prudence. 
 If circumstances should prove favorable, I shall be 
 most happy to see you, though I shall be again uneasy 
 that you will have the same risk to run when you 
 return. I enclose a five dollar note, though I must 
 again remind you of the absolute necessity there is to 
 avoid every unnecessary expense, and of my fears for 
 you in' crossing the ferry, which I beg you will not 
 attempt, if the weather should be boisterous, or any 
 appearance of danger from ice, or any other unfavora- 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 45 
 
 ble circumstance. Should you come as far as the ferry, 
 and find it not quite safe to cross it, do not venture, 
 but wait or return, rather than risk any danger; if 
 you find it will be advisable and safe for you to come, 
 let me know in time, that I may expect you. And may 
 you ask and receive the blessing and protection of that 
 Providence who alone can preserve us from dangers of 
 every kind. That JHe may make you hi* peculiar care, 
 prays your tenderly affectionate parent, 
 
 Hannah Hobart.' 
 
 ' Philadelphia, 11th January, 1793. 
 
 I have received my dear John's welcome letter of the 
 10th instant. I am always happy to hear from you, 
 but would not wish to purchase that satisfaction at the 
 expense of your studies ; whenever you can write 
 without making that sacrifice, you may be sure I shall 
 have pleasure in hearing from you, and will endeavor 
 to make myself easy when you do not. I am perfectly 
 satisfied, my dear John, with the assurances contained 
 in your letter, and would wish you to believe that I 
 have the fullest confidence in the rectitude of your 
 heart, and the propriety of your conduct, and am 
 certain it will be owing to mistake or inattention, if 
 you do not always do right. I would remind you, my 
 dear John, to be careful of your eyes ; they are of more 
 value than you can conceive while you are blessed 
 with the enjoyment of them. I am glad to find you 
 are well, and continue pleased with your situation. I 
 have too much confidence in the goodness of your 
 principles, as well as understanding, to imagine you 
 could have pleasure in any situation or engagements 
 that would not afford satisfaction on reflection, as 
 well as in present enjoyment. I need not say how 
 
46 MEMOIROF 
 
 much I wish to see you, and am happy to think it will 
 not be long first. Let me know how much money you 
 will want, and when. - 1 write in haste, but am ever 
 my dear John's affectionate 
 
 H. HOBART.' 
 ■ Thursday, 20th September, 1792. 
 I was sorry I had not a letter ready for you, my dear 
 John, when Mr. Otto called, as it would have been so 
 convenient to have sent it by him ; and I have now 
 scarce time more than to inform you, that I enclose a 
 ten dollar note, and to tell you that your letter was 
 exceedingly pleasing to me, as by it I find you have 
 passed your time agreeably, and I have no doubt 
 profitably. Indeed, my dear John, I cannot help 
 anticipating the happiness I expect to experience from 
 your future conduct, as I already have from your past; 
 relying on the rectitude of your heart, and the kindness 
 of that Providence who will, I trust, continue to give 
 you every good disposition, and to bless every laudable 
 endeavor, if you fail not humbly to seek it from him. 
 It is a great satisfaction to me to find your situation is 
 still agreeable to you, and I hope it will continue to be 
 so, as a knowledge of your happiness always con- 
 tributes to mine. But, my dear John, you do not tell rae 
 you are well : I want to know if you have any cough, 
 or have been at any time sick since you left home ; if 
 you are, do not keep the knowledge of it from me. I 
 would earnestly beseech you to have a regard to your 
 health. I know your desire to acquire knowledge is 
 great, and it is commendable; but I would wish you 
 to think it of at least as much consequence to preserve 
 health, as to improve your mind, since without health 
 you can do nothing, so that the preservation of that 
 should be your first, though not your only care. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 47 
 
 Your brothers and sisters and little nephews are all 
 wdl, and with the hope of seeing you soon, join in 
 much love to you, with, my dear John, your affectionate 
 
 H. HoBART.' 
 
 A chance letter of the son's has been pre- 
 served, which, though without date, seems to be 
 in answer to this : he says, 
 
 ' Tuesday Evening. 
 I have been some time waiting to write to you by 
 G. Bullock ; but aS' his going seems very uncertain, I 
 now write by post, to ease you of the anxiety I fear 
 you feel in not hearing from me. I wish, ray dear 
 Mamma, you would not be so appTehensive that I shall 
 injure my health by application; you may depend 
 upon it, the preservation of that shall always be a 
 primary concern, and that study shall never injure it. 
 As my dear Mamma's concern is an evidence of her 
 affection for her son, so I assure her that son's heart is 
 too full to express as it ought, how much he is indebted 
 to her; but it would add greatly to my happiness, if I 
 knew you were not oppressed with unnecessary fears. 
 I am not now troubled with a cough, but am as hearty 
 as I have been at any time since I came here. The 
 situation is so healthy, that it is very rarely the 
 students have any complaints. 
 
 Your very affectionate son, 
 
 J. H. H.' 
 
 ' Wednesday Evening, January 2, 1793. 
 
 I am happy, my dear John, to hear you are well, 
 
 and am much pleased with the account your sister tells 
 
 me Mr. Tatem gives of your exhibition on Monday 
 
 evening. I have just got your speech from your 
 
48 MEMOIROF 
 
 sister, but must defer reading it till to-morrow. I am 
 so much engaged with your sister Polly, that I can 
 scarce take time to write a line, or I should before now 
 have told you I was highly gratified in hearing that 
 Dr. Smith, when he was last in Philadelphia, spoke of 
 you in terms of the highest commendation, as to your 
 disposition, capacity, and conduct. I hope, my dear 
 son, you will always behave so as to merit (and I doubt 
 it not) the approbation of all, whose good opinion you 
 ought to desire to have. I enclose a five dollar note, 
 and assure my dear boy, that so far from feeling 
 reluctance at sending you necessary supplies, I do it 
 with the utmost cheerfulness when in my power, 
 because I have confidence in your prudent disposal of 
 it, and hope the end will be your advantage and 
 improvement. Your brother has given up business in 
 town, and removed to Pottsgrove. I heard this after- 
 noon they were all well. 
 
 Your aflfectionate Mother, 
 
 H. HOBART.' 
 
 If his mother's affection was thus fearful 
 under ordinary circumstances, it may easily be 
 imagined how painful was the separation during 
 the ravages of the yellow fever which broke out 
 in the summer of this year, (1793.) Her letters 
 were almost daily, and filled with injunctions of 
 care, and caution, and preventive remedies. 
 
 On the close of his final examinations in the 
 summer of this fatal year, he had proceeded to 
 pay a long promised visit to a dear college 
 friend at Jamaica, Long-Island. While there? 
 the fever broke out with violence in Philadel- 
 
BISHOPHOBART. 49 
 
 phia ; and so great was the alarm, that to avoid 
 the danger arising from public travel, his friend 
 himself took him back to Princeton In a private 
 conveyance, and through by-roads. 
 
 It was now his turn to be anxious for his 
 mother's safety ; he thus writes from Jamaica : 
 
 ' My dear Mamma's two letters have filled me with 
 more anxiety than I can express. I am very sure you 
 cannot be safe in the city, and if you are so anxious I 
 should not come there, I wish you would be equally 
 concerned on your own account. I cannot be easy 
 any where, my dear Mamma, till you are out of the 
 city, as long as the disease continues. O, my dear 
 Mother, if you knew how anxious I am, I am sure you 
 would not continue in town. I would therefore beg 
 and entreat you to leave the city. I cannot be con- 
 vinced you are safe there. I should suppose you might 
 go either to Frankfort or to Pottsgrove, but in the city 
 I hope you will not continue. I have felt very much 
 for you to-dsly, the weather has been unusually warm. 
 I wish, my dear Mamma, you would go into the 
 country. I shall anxiously wait for a letter. With a 
 great deal of love and anxiety, I remain your sincerely 
 affectionate, J. H. Hobart. 
 
 Friday Evening.' 
 
 Her removal to Frankfort, which immediately 
 took place, was not, however, sufficient to quiet 
 his fears. His next is as follows : 
 
 ' Princeton, Septeniber 25th, 1793. 
 I feel daily more and more anxiety for your safety, 
 my dear Mamma, and that of my brother and sisters, 
 5 
 
50 MEMOIROF 
 
 who still continue within the reach of this alarming 
 fever. The accounts we have from Philadelphia are 
 extremely distressing, and represent the fever as con- 
 tinuing to rage with the greatest fury, and carrying oflf 
 daily a great number of the citizens. But what adds 
 to my anxiety and distress is, that you are by no means 
 yet safe from the contagion. Mr. Tennent, one of our 
 trustees, has mentioned here that three or four persons 
 have died of the disorder in the neighborhood of Abing- 
 don, which is farther from the city than Frankfort. I 
 wish very much if it were possible, that you would all 
 move to Pottsgrove, where you would be more secure 
 from danger. Were you there, I should be much less 
 anxious — I should not be near so much distressed. I 
 have never been more distracted with doubt and 
 anxiety than to-day. I am extremely anxious to be 
 with you, and my dear Robert and his family. O, how 
 easy I should feel, if you were all out of the reach of 
 danger. Skinner has returned. I do not know that I 
 have ever suflFered so much as in parting from him. I 
 knew he was very dear to me, but I did not know how 
 dear till he left me. With heartfelt love and affection 
 for my dear Mamma, I remain her dutiful son, 
 
 John H. Hobart. 
 P. S. We have received degrees privately.' 
 
 ' Princeton, Sept. 28. Saturday Evening. 
 My dear Sister, 
 
 I wrote to Mamma by Wednesday's, Thursday's, 
 and Friday's post. I am in continual anxiety not only 
 for your safety, but for our relations who still remain 
 in the city. I hope, my dear sister, that you will not 
 venture into town with Mr. Smith, and I wish you 
 could persuade him to leave the business of the bank. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 51 
 
 when he cannot attend to it but with such imminent 
 hazard. I dare not think of the consequences that 
 may follow his so frequently going into the city. 
 Mamma informs me that she is well ; indeed it is my 
 chief consolation. Neglectful as I may be in acknow- 
 ledging the common mercies of Providence, such a 
 distinguished instance of his goodness in the preserva- 
 tion of those who are most dear to me in this time of 
 danger, awakens in my heart the liveliest gratitude. 
 And while those who lament the loss of friends, must 
 take warning from the solemn dispensation, it ought to 
 operate no less forcibly on those who have reason to 
 acknowledge its goodness in not having such loss to 
 lament. 
 
 My dear friend Skinner left me on Thursday last, 
 depriving me of my chief source of happiness while 
 absent from you all. I wish it were possible for us to 
 be always together, and I must indulge in the pleasing 
 anticipation that such may be the case. I wish, my 
 dear sister, that you only knew him, and then you 
 would not wonder, as you now may, at the warmth of 
 my attachment to him. 
 
 Your affectionate brother, 
 
 John H. Hobaht.' 
 
 At this season of wide spread alarm, the fears 
 of those separated were mutual. His mother's 
 letter, a few days previous, is as follows ; 
 
 'Frankfort, ^th September, 1793. 
 
 I wrote to you, my dear John, last Thursday ; since 
 then, I have received yours from Jamaica of the 17th. 
 I expect you are in Princeton before now, and know it 
 will give you pleasure to hear that we are all well at 
 
52 MEMOIROF 
 
 Frankfort. I don't find that the.disorder is abated in 
 the city, but cannot hear that it is any where in this 
 neighborhood, or has been. I am impatiently expect- 
 ing to hear from you, and hope there are letters now 
 at the post-office ; but it is seldom we can get them till 
 the day after they are there. I am very glad you 
 wrote to Mr. Smith ; his kindness to us all, and atten- 
 tion to you, called for a return, and I know it gave 
 him a great deal of pleasure, as it did also your sister. 
 Wherever you travel, I wish you to use every prudent 
 precaution in your power ; but do not let apprehension 
 affect your spirits, but look to that Providence who is 
 able, and I trust will preserve you from every danger. 
 I would have you carry camphor about you, and your 
 handkerchief wet with vinegar: if you could have a 
 little vial of spirits of camphor, and sometimes take a 
 drop or two in your mouth, and wet your handkerchief 
 as often as you can with vinegar, unless you can con- 
 veniently carry that also about you. 
 
 I would not wish you, my dear John, to distress 
 yourself so much with apprehensions for our safety : 
 we cannot insure it, in truth, any where ; but we will 
 hope the best, and trust that a kind Providence, who 
 has in so many instances dispensed his favors to us, 
 will continue to preserve you, as well as us, from every 
 danger. We cannot, indeed, my dear son, be grateful 
 enough to a heavenly Father who has hitherto so 
 particularly favored us ; but I hope we may not be 
 wholly insensible of the numberless instances of his 
 care and protection. That the Almighty may still 
 continue his goodness to us all, and particularly guard 
 and preserve ray dear John from all danger, is the 
 sincere prayer of his affectionate parent, 
 
 Hannah Hobart. 
 
BISHOP HOEART, 53 
 
 P. S. Do take care and guard yourself against taking 
 cold when you travel ; be sure you take your surtout, 
 even if it is not cold, it will keep you warm and dry, 
 and I hope it will not be long before you can get a new 
 one. I fear, my dear John, you make yourself too 
 uneasy on account of the danger you think we are 
 in. We are all well yet, and have no reason to think 
 we are more unsafe now than we have been. It is 
 proper to be sure to use every prudent precaution, but 
 I hope all our fears are not well fouiided. In travelling, 
 be careful you do not go to any house where the 
 disorder is or has been, and keep a prudent distance 
 from persons that you do not know. 
 
 I cannot help telling you, my dear John, how highly 
 I was gratified in hearing you have established such a 
 character at college. Dr. Smith .spoke of you to Mr. 
 Smith, and to your sister, in terms of the highest com- 
 mendation ; he could not have said more in praise of 
 any one, and you may be sure I do not doubt your 
 deserving it. 
 
 Monday Morning.' 
 
 After this letter, the reader will not be sur- 
 prised to learn, that maternal anxiety provided 
 for him the means of avoiding all risk from 
 public stages, and that his brother-in-law's chair 
 and clerk were soon after despatched to Prince- 
 ton for him, bringing him in safety to his anxious 
 mother, at her temporary home in Frankfort. 
 But this is anticipating the conclusion of a two 
 year's residence, which deserves a fuller record. 
 
 It were not easy to find a more pleasing 
 6* 
 
54 MEMOIROF 
 
 picture of college life, than is exhibited in his 
 own and his companions' boyish letters already 
 alluded to ; young Hobart's especially, are full 
 of gayety of heart, and warm generous emotions. 
 Life was in its spring, and the world was all 
 bright around him, but more especially that little 
 world in which he then dwelt. Princeton was 
 an Athens to him, and its groves as those of 
 Hecademus. His professors were sages, and 
 the class a philosophic band of brothers. Such 
 is their romantic tone, but still, however, colored 
 by an ardent fancy, it must assuredly have 
 been to him a scene of great enjoyment, and 
 no less improvement, and speaks much for the 
 talent and good sense of those by whom the 
 college was at that time governed. 
 
 Among the greatest sources to him of both, 
 was the academic association of the students, 
 khown under the name of the Whig Society; 
 which, together with its rival, the Clio, still con- 
 tinues, it is understood, to call forth in zealous 
 competition, the best talents of Nassau Hall. 
 It may be concluded he would not be back- 
 ward in joining one of them. One of his earliest 
 letters says, ' I daily experience the advantages 
 of my situation ; and, my dear Mamma, you 
 may rest assured that no endeavors of mine shall 
 be wanting. Within these few days, I have^ 
 entered one of the societies, and am confident 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 55 
 
 that the improvement I shall derive from it will 
 nearly equal that from the college.' 
 
 The honors and prosperity of the one with 
 which he connected himself, constitute one of 
 his most favorite themes, while the zeal and 
 ardor with which he advocates its cause, displays 
 not only his own character, but the influence 
 which such institutions are calculated to exer- 
 cise over the excitable mind of youth ; and, if 
 well directed, may exercise to the best ends. 
 With young Hobart, the impression left was 
 never effaced ; and in after life he not only often 
 recurred to this period as one of peculiar happi- 
 ness and profitable labor, but in the character 
 of trustee of another college, warmly urged the 
 liberal patronage of similar societies of the stu- 
 dents, from the vivid recollection of the benefits 
 he had himself derived from them. In none 
 probably of our colleges have thciy operated 
 either more powerfully or more beneficially than 
 in the one with which he was now connected, 
 being riot only recognised, but cherished by the 
 academic authorities, and their literary rivalry 
 excited by the recognition of membership in the 
 annual distribution of college honors. To one 
 of his absent companions, he thus writes the 
 news of a doubtful victory : ' The examination 
 of the junior class is over ; the honors given out 
 as follows : How (Whig), Latin Salutatory ; 
 
56 MEMOIROF 
 
 Hutcheson (Clio), English Salutatory ; Green, 
 (C), Brown (W.), Heister (C), Kollock (C), 
 Elmendorf (C), Polhemus (C), Intermediates. 
 The superiority of the whigs would have been 
 greater, if Ker, one of the first in the class, had 
 not gone home last spring, and Keese, another 
 valuable member, been sick ; they would both 
 have received very high honors ; but even as it 
 is, the whigs bear off the palm — our Society is 
 confessedly superior.' If, in the case of others, 
 he entered with such Warmth into its interests, it 
 may naturally be presumed the question became 
 more expiting when he found himself held up as 
 the representative of their strength. On this 
 occasion, the contest appears to have been more 
 than usually animated. While young Hobart 
 stood forth by acclamation as the champion of 
 the whigs, the clios were represented by a young 
 Virginian of the name of Bennet Taylor ; no 
 unworthy competitor, as it would seem, on the 
 score of merit, and certainly one of equal devo- 
 tion to the honors of his clan. The weighty 
 decision of the first honor, the Latin Salutatory, 
 long hung in suspense. The Senatus Academicus 
 were understood to be equally divided — one 
 half voting for Hobart, the other for Taylor. At 
 the head of the first stood his friend the vice- 
 president, whose opinion carried great weight ; 
 the other was led by the senior professor. Dr. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 57 
 
 Minto, an old gentleman, who added to a very 
 sound judgment, great zeal, and long experience. 
 Neither party being willing to give way, and no 
 means as it would seem being provided for the 
 decision of such a case, they resorted, it is said, 
 to the summary but very unclassical procedure 
 of the tossing up of a coin. As it rose in the air, 
 Dr. Smith, as if to secure the omen, cried out, 
 'Heads for Hobart,' and heads it was. The 
 result may be best told in the words of the 
 youthful victor. ' Mr. Taylor was not satisfied 
 with this decision of the faculty. He communi- 
 cated his sentiments to Dr. Smith, and endea- 
 vored to make it appear to him that the Latin 
 Salutatory, which fell to my lot, would place me 
 in the opinion of the audience above him. Dr. 
 Smith accordingly mentioned this circumstance 
 to me, and intimated that as I could speak 
 the Valedictory, artd Mr. Taylor could not, he 
 thought it would be an act of candor in me to 
 relinquish the Salutatory, and take the other.' 
 Had it been any but a 'clio' that was to enjoy it, 
 young Hobart's heart would probably have given 
 way under such an appeal ; but the ' whig' was 
 strong within him, and he replied in the spirit of 
 all conquerors, 'I will not, give up an oration 
 which has fairly and honorably fallen to my lot.' 
 The ' musa pedestris' of Princeton was, it seems, 
 awakened by this long protracted contest ; and 
 
58 MEMOIROP 
 
 if « Clio' descended, as the letters charge her with 
 doing, to personal invective, something unques- 
 tionably must be pardoned to the wounded feel- 
 ings of the losing party from whom chance, not 
 merit, had wrested away an equal prize. Allud- 
 ing to these attacks, young Hobart thus con- 
 cludes his letter to an absent ' whig :' ' Resent- 
 ment at his conduct lives not in my bosom ; I 
 remember it only to relate it to you, and would 
 have it go no further.' But alas ! for the vanity 
 of human ambition. The Latin Salutatory thus 
 eagerly sought after was never delivered. In 
 the summer of this year, (1793,) as already 
 mentioned, the yellow fever first appeared in our 
 country, breaking out in Philadelphia a short 
 time previous to the Commencement exercises at 
 Princeton. This new enemy drove out all other 
 thoughts than those of safety, from the minds 
 both of victors and vanquished. The authorities 
 of the college took the alarm, its inmates were 
 dispersed — the public commencement in fright 
 dispensed with, and the academic honor, thus 
 long sought and earnestly contended for, an- 
 nounced but to the ears of a trembling few, to 
 whom it conveyed no new information, and 
 whose thoughts were even then intent on other 
 things. ' Sic transit gloria mundi.' 
 
 But this narrative awakens another reflection. 
 How are we to estimate among the means of 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 59 
 
 a sound education, the academic competition 
 which runs into such eager contest 1 Is it 
 favorable, on the whole, to the formation of a 
 manly character 1 Does it not, on the contrary, 
 tend to weaken the moral principle, by habituat- 
 ing the mind to stronger stimulants than those 
 of mere duty ] Does it not lead to the substitu- 
 tion of the spirit of party, in place of individual 
 reason and conscience'? These are questions 
 certainly not easily answered, and deserve, in our 
 country more particularly, to be well weighed, 
 since these anticipated results go to cherish the 
 very evils which threaten to work our political 
 ruin. But setting this aside, even in the indi- 
 vidual character, may not the sharpening of 
 talent, and the acquisition of knowledge, be too 
 dearly bought with • the formation of such en- 
 feebliag propensities. Their influence, however, 
 on the mind of Bishop Hobart, may be estimated 
 lightly, for he carried with him through life a 
 certain individuality of character, which instead 
 of receiving impressions from without, was con- 
 tinually stamping them on all around. In the 
 features of his mind there was what artists terra 
 sharpness, one of those decisive marks by which 
 the original, in painting, is always to be distin- 
 guished from the copy, and the clay model from 
 the plaster cast. No man that knew Bishop 
 Hobart at any period of his life, but must have 
 
60 MEMOIROF 
 
 seen this ; that his character, whatever estimate 
 might be formed of it, was one struck off by the 
 hand of nature, having in it such persuasive 
 force, that his sentiments and example were 
 continually taking hold on the hearts and con- 
 duct of those with whom he associated, leaving 
 them (few but will acknowledge) wiser and 
 better than he found them. Working on such a 
 mind, competition may certainly go far without 
 degenerating either into personal rivalry, or 
 party attachment. This is pleasingly indicated 
 in a letter written soon after quitting college, to 
 one whom he left in it, and whom he addresses 
 hy the familiar appellation of ' Dear Tom.' 
 Alluding to his friend's statement, that ' emula- 
 tion and friendship eminently prevail among the 
 members of the Society,' he thus breaks forth : 
 ' O, may these long continue to influence them ! 
 What more ~ delightful sight can be presented 
 to the eye, than a band of youths, whom friend- 
 ship and a noble emulation animate ; the prize 
 they have in view is so valued, that each one 
 seeks it with persevering ardor, each endeavor- 
 ing to outstrip his companion, and yet each one 
 giving his companion every assistance in his 
 power. Their friendship is as strong as their 
 emulation, and thus both principles being equally 
 powerful, give to all their actions the ardor of 
 emulation, in union with mutual love.' An 
 
BISHOP H O B AR T. 61 
 
 extract from a letter recently received from one 
 of the surviving companions of his studies, will 
 show that this was no picture of fancy. ' The 
 interesting qualities of Hobart's heart and head, 
 which distinguished him so much among his 
 . fellows, can never be forgotten. He was ambi- 
 tious, and did not attempt to disguise it ; but it 
 was that kind of ambition which every student 
 must possess, if he aims at eminence. It never 
 led him to overlook or underestimate the merits 
 of others who were competing with him. On 
 the contrary, though bent himself on reaching 
 the goal, he manifested no desire of travelling 
 in advance of his friends, but was pleased when 
 they progressed with him pari passu; and mani- 
 fested distress of mind when any of them fell 
 visibly behind him. It was common for him to 
 cheer his competitors when they seemed to flag, 
 and to stimulate them to more action. His dis- 
 position was marked by benevolence, and when 
 he saw those for whom he had a respect in the 
 college classes below him, disposed to indolence 
 or irregularity, it was his practice to visit their 
 rooms, and invite them to his own, for the pur- 
 pose of bringing them within the influence of 
 his conversation and example. I recollect the 
 instance of a youth from Long-Island, who was 
 reclaimed from idleness and a threatening habit 
 of dissipation by this course. The amiable 
 6 
 
62 MEMOIROF 
 
 qualities of his heart, and the vigorous powers of 
 his mind, can never be effaced from my memory. 
 I knew his thoughts and the motives which 
 actuated him, and it was my belief there was 
 none whose whole course of conduct furnished 
 a more unexceptionable model for imitation.'* 
 However rare this character of ambition without 
 envy, all concur that young Hobart exhibited it; 
 his rivals in study were still his brothers in affec- 
 tion, and the attachments he then formed, were 
 ardent beyond the usual ardor of youthful inti- 
 macies. Now this is a point in which the editor 
 is aware that the narrative he is about to give, 
 may very easily be misinterpreted, since it brings 
 before the reader such a succession of personal 
 attachments on the part of young Hobart, as very 
 naturally to excite a smile, with some perhaps 
 even a sneer, at their number and romantic 
 fervor. But this would be doing both him and 
 them great injustice, for such intimacies are 
 proverbially fleeting, while his were all firm and 
 enduring. Neither the bustling cares of an 
 active station, nor even the dearer connections 
 of riper years, were able to withdraw his heart 
 from the friends of his boyhood. To the very 
 last he turned to them with the feelings of 
 almost childish affection. Separation did not 
 
 * J. Burnet, Esq., Cincinnati, Ohio. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 63 
 
 make him forget them ; sorrow and misfortune 
 but endeared them ; and what was the hardest 
 trial of all, the errors of human frailty could not 
 tear them from him. Friendship with him w^as 
 a living plant which time strengthens^ not with- 
 ers, and in the hour of trial, a, fruit-bearing plant, 
 bringing forth actions as well as words. Many 
 persons there are highly social without a capa- 
 city for friendship. An easy temper, and a 
 languid mind, fit them for ready and changing 
 intimacies ; but such certainly was not the 
 temper that here unfolded itself. There was 
 in it, on the contrary, that affectionateness of 
 nature which, once rooted, never ceases to cling. 
 Now such a character it is delightful to meet 
 with, and to contemplate — and not only de- 
 lightful, but improving. It serves to give us a 
 better opinion of our common nature, and not 
 only so, but to strengthen our confidence in its 
 future prospects ; since to see early affections 
 thus outliving all the vicissitudes of life, and 
 rising above the selfishness of years, is no small 
 proof of the spirituality of that nature in which 
 those affections reside : it is the triumph of mind 
 over matter, and opens to us pleasing anticipa- 
 tions of what those affections will be in a purer 
 and more spiritual state of being. But from 
 whatever source these intimacies sprung, they 
 seem at least to have been prudently and 
 
64 MEMOIROF 
 
 wisely pursued, with a view to moral, intel- 
 lectual, and religious improvement. The reli- 
 gious tone that pervades them on the part of 
 young Hobart, is certainly remarkable. Ev«n 
 his earliest letters to his companions breathe this 
 spirit — sentiments not merely of natural piety, 
 but of Christian doctrine, argued and urged as 
 specific motives to duty, and the intimacy of 
 friendship thus made an instrument of holiness 
 of life. As in this point of view, the character 
 of Bishop Hobart, while living, was greatly mis- 
 understood, and his zeal for the Church over 
 which he presided, turned into an argument 
 against his vital piety ; it is due to his memory 
 now that he is gone, fully to illustrate this 
 beautiful trait in his life, to show how, even 
 from his boyish days, his friendship was felt to 
 be a blessing, from that influence, which he was 
 peculiarly , fitted to exert over his intimates, 
 being always steadily directed to the deepening 
 and strengthening of their religious principles. 
 Nor is it only to his memory that this exposi- 
 tion is due ; it is still more due to the Chris- 
 tian public ; for what can constitute a deeper 
 debt to humanity, than to clear away from a 
 great and good man's character, the prejudices 
 which weaken the force of his example, and to 
 exhibit in intimate union from earliest youth, 
 those natural talents which lead to power, and 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 65 
 
 those Christian graces which consecrate their 
 influence. 
 
 The following' letters are taken from an ample 
 bxmdle preserved of the letters of his young 
 friends. His correspondeiit, in the present case, 
 was a graduate of the preceding year, who had 
 just returned to his home in the south. How- 
 ever youthful, they give a pleasing picture of 
 college life and intimacies. 
 
 ' Woodville, 3d December, 1793. 
 My dear Henry, 
 
 By this time you must have met with a good 
 many hard knots in Helsham, but no doubt your pene- 
 trating genius can readily pierce the most crabbed. I 
 am much pleased that you will do honor to our old 
 room, and still more anxious that you should do honor 
 to yourself. Only maintain your usual rank which 
 your abilities will fully enable, and your laudable ambi- 
 tion will prompt you to do, and the prize is yours. 
 You have had the pleasure of spending this evening, I 
 suppose, in our good old Society ; a pleasure the loss of 
 which I feel very sensibly. Were the members but half 
 as sensible of the advantages that may be derived from 
 that institution while at college, as they will be after 
 they leave it, they would be far from neglecting their 
 duties in it. But such is the nature of man, insensible 
 of his present enjoyments, and complaining of ima- 
 ginary evils. I have no news, political, moral, or 
 natural to send you, except that I have set up till after 
 12 o'clock writing to you and my other college friends ; 
 and you ought to consider that as a great mark of my 
 friendship for you all, as you know very well it is not 
 6* 
 
66 MEMOIROF 
 
 a trifle that could induce me to do such a thing. It is, 
 however, by no iheans a trifle in the present case, but 
 the greatest luxury, not having as yet received a letter 
 from you, which would, I confess, be a still greater 
 feast. But my candle is almost out, and I shall then be 
 obliged to go to bed. In the meantime I remain your 
 friend, 
 
 Alexander White the 3d. 
 
 P. S. Do not forget to direct your letters, Alexander 
 White the 3d.' 
 
 ■ Woodville, April 1, 1793. 
 My dear friend. 
 
 Your favor of the 10th March 1 received with 
 singular pleasure on the 23d of the same month. But 
 I hasten to another subject in which I feel myself much 
 concerned. It gave me a most pleasing sensation to 
 discover that you were to represent us on the 4th July. 
 I say Its, because I cannot help assuming some portion 
 of the honor acquired by the exhibition of my brother 
 whigs ; but I was surprised to flnd you had thoughts of 
 resigning the appointment, which, however, I hope you 
 will not do. Let me entreat you in the name of a 
 friend, of a brother, not to do it. That you would 
 perform the duty with credit to yourself, with honor to 
 the Society, and with a victory over your competitor, 
 you must be fully sensible ; and any expression of it 
 from me might be disagreeable. But further, that you 
 would disappoint the Society, and perhaps materially 
 injure it by resigning, is also evident. I hope, therefore, 
 if you have not some very particular reasons unknown 
 to me, you will cheerfully execute this honorable office. 
 Your class having gone through their studies so rapidly, 
 will give those who have abilities, an opportunity to 
 
BISHOP H O B A R T. 67 
 
 distinguish themselves. You ought to appropriate as 
 great a part of next session to reviewing as possible, 
 that you may impress the knowledge you acquire more 
 strongly on the memory, and appear with credit at the 
 examination, which I found to be a very difficult matter, 
 if not an impossibility. Assuring you of my sincere 
 wishes for your happiness, farewell. 
 
 Alexander White.' 
 
 ' Woodville, 8lh May, 1793. 
 My dear friend. 
 
 Yours of 23d ultimo was gratefully received. I 
 heartily thank you for the services you have rendered 
 me, and perfectly approve of the manner in which you 
 did it. I hope by this time you are once more safely 
 seated at Princeton, where you can calmly enjoy the 
 sweets of study and retirement, delicately seasoned with 
 the occasional society of a few choice friends. Such a 
 situation I am inclined to believe, is the summit of 
 earthly happiness ; at any rate, I, in my twenty years' 
 pilgrimage, have not found any thing superior. But I 
 would not, by these observations, lessen the confidence 
 you may have in your own prospects of the future, 
 which no doubt are very fair. However pleasing a 
 college life may be, I presume it would in time become 
 wearisome, and the sphere too narrow and confining 
 for an active and enterprising mind. I wish I could 
 see the agitation which the hope of obtaining, and the 
 fear of not obtaining honors, must now begin to excite 
 in your class, though the distinguishing of six at the 
 last examination was to be sure a very good omen for 
 them. But I wonder you did not give me their names. 
 If you consider it indelicate to mention your own, you 
 might leave a blank for that, and insert the others. I 
 
68 MEMOIROF 
 
 need not mention with how much joy I hear of the 
 prosperity of our dear Society ; you say it has the 
 superiority in the lower classes, and it surely has in 
 yours. I expect my fellow whigs will make an honora- 
 ble appearance at the next Commencement. On you 
 much depends, and I am -happy to hear you have but 
 one rival, and that he is called so only by the clios. I 
 perfectly approve of your not taking formally into con- 
 sideration the alterations in the laws proposed by the 
 graduates. It has always been my opinion, that they, 
 being absent from the college, should have little to do 
 with legislation. The hall no doubt needed improve- 
 ments, though to increase the library is in my mind a 
 more desirable object, than to add elegance to the 
 room. Remember me to my friends in college, par- 
 ticularly Skinner, Terhane, the Wallaces, Hunter, and 
 Brown. Yours sincerely, 
 
 Alexander White.' 
 
 The following, though not in answer, is yet 
 the earliest preserved of his own college letters. 
 
 ' Frankfort, November 12, 1793. 
 My dear White, 
 
 The silence which has succeeded your last letter of the 
 29th July, has occasioned me considerable uneasiness. 
 This anxiety harassed my mind for some time previous 
 to the examination, though the attention my studies 
 then required, precluded my writing to you till that 
 was concluded ; and the necessary preparation for the 
 Commencement, together with a jaunt to my friend 
 Skinner on Long-Island, delayed the answer till some 
 time in September, when I wrote you from Jamaica. 
 Since that period I have postponed writing, from the 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 69 
 
 daily expectation of a letter from you, as well as from 
 the calamitous circumstance which has deranged alto- 
 gether my plans and wishes. The disorder which 
 marked for the peculiar object of its ravages our un- 
 fortunate city, prevented the stated Commencement at 
 Princeton from being held. The degrees were conferred 
 privately on the few of the class who attended. Im- 
 mediately after, I came to this place, where my brother- 
 in-law, Mr. Smith, has a plantation, on which, since 
 the commencement of the disorder, his own and my 
 mother's families have resided. The improbability that 
 it would subside time enough for his fall business in 
 Philadelphia, induced him to open a store in this place ; 
 and as I engaged to go through an apprenticeship with 
 him, I have been employed for some time past in 
 attending upon it. The sudden subsiding of the dis- 
 order renders it safe for the citizens now to return to 
 their long forsaken habitations, and induces him to 
 conclude on removing to town the latter end of the 
 week, of consequence I shall shortly again revisit my 
 native city ; but ah, what has it not suffered since I 
 last saw it. Yet in that trying period, when the ties of 
 nature were so often broken, heaven raised up men 
 who, to say the least of them, were ornaments to human 
 nature. Fearless of the disorder, they administered to 
 the wants of the suffering sick, provided for the unfor- 
 tunate orphan, performing every office of humanity at 
 the hazard of their lives. Our friends Rhea and Otto 
 are, I believe, out of the city, and well. Early has 
 been at Princeton since the Commencement. Poor 
 Wycoffhas, I understand, fallen a victim to the dis- 
 order. Our friends at Princeton are doing well, but 
 owing to there being no competitions, the whigs had 
 no opportunity of showing themselves : I am happy to 
 
70 MEMOIROF 
 
 inform you they bear the superiority in every class. 
 You must by this time be far advanced in the study of 
 the law, and the time approaches when you will enter 
 on the practice. May you, my friend, arrive at those 
 honors in public life, without which, wealth can yield 
 but little pleasure, and acquire that wealth, without 
 which, the honors of public life cannot be enjoyed. 
 With a great desire to hear from you, and with much 
 affection, I remain your sincere friend, 
 
 J. H. HOBART.' 
 
 ' WoodvUle, nth November, 1793. 
 My dear Henry, 
 
 The last letter I received from you was dated 
 Jamaica, September 10th, which I would have answered 
 long ago, but for the little probability there appeared 
 of a letter reaching you. I now hasten to congratulate 
 you, though at this late period, on having attained that 
 distinction, the pleasing effects of which I have some 
 knowledge of. It reminds me of what I once said to 
 you, that reward follows merit, though sometimes 
 ' pede claudo.' I am very sorry you had not an oppor- 
 tunity of displaying those abilities at a public Com- 
 mencement, which I am confident you possess. Conrad 
 has told me many anecdotes relating to college. I 
 recollect perfectly well the perturbation that was in 
 our class last summer, and which I myself did not 
 entirely escape, though I believe I felt it no more than 
 some who wore a hypocritical indifference. I am 
 extremely happy to find that the whigs continue to 
 acquire additional honor, and to reflect it upon their 
 absent brethren. I would by no means persuade- you 
 to study law contrary to your interest ; but there is 
 one remark I think merits attention ; that is, that your 
 
BISHOP HOBART, 71 
 
 disposition and abilities are thought to be peculiarly 
 adapted to the practice of the law. I mention this, 
 because it is a matter indifferent persons are more 
 capable to judge of than you are yourself; and I have 
 often heard it said, ' It will be a pity if Hobart is not a 
 lawyer.' But I have one request to make, that you 
 will come and see me before you engage in business. 
 It may seem a very unreasonable request, that you 
 should travel two hundred miles to see me ; but I hope 
 you will consider such a journey would be attended 
 with many advantages, and I will engage to furnish 
 you with such amusements as I possess, viz. a plenty of 
 books, and a few friends. Remember me sincerely to 
 Skinner : independent of his being your friend, which 
 is a sufficient recommendation, he is one of the few I 
 have found among mankind who merit all the esteem 
 of the purest heart. With all the well wishes of a 
 sincere friend, I am constantly yours, 
 
 Alexander White.' 
 
 ' Woodville, 29th January, 1794. 
 My dear Henry, 
 
 I have received yours of December 30th. I need 
 not say with pleasure: a piece of blank paper from 
 your hand would be pleasing ; how much more a paper 
 filled with those sentiments, which are calculated to 
 afford delight. Your account of the decision of the 
 honors and the subsequent transactions was very satis- 
 factory, and reminded me of the bustle excited in our 
 class. I am much pleased with your conduct on the 
 occasion, and would observe, that the treatment you 
 met with may be considered an emblem of what every 
 person, whom merit has rendered conspicuous, may 
 expect from the invidious world. Since you consider 
 
72 MEMOIROF 
 
 the mercantile life most eligible, I most sincerely wish 
 you happiness and prosperity in the pursuit of it. I 
 can readily suppose that your feelings upon your 
 change of situation were not very pleasing. Mine, I 
 well remember, were ar from it ; but time and reason 
 will reconcile every one to his condition. I was going 
 to propose an agreement for our mutual benefit, — that 
 when we become men of business, I should send our 
 backwoods merchants to deal with you, and you in 
 return should empower me to collect from those who 
 might prove delinquent; but perhaps this agreement 
 may be postponed. I rejoice to hear that our fraternity 
 still stands forth as the school of virtue and useful 
 knowledge. My intercourse with it seems in a great 
 measure cut off now that you have left it, but my 
 attachment remains, and I hope you will occasionally 
 write me what you know of its situation. 
 
 Yours truly, Alexander White.' 
 
 ' WoodvUle, 19th March, 1794. 
 My dear. Henry, 
 
 I feel myself much obliged to my Philadelphia 
 friends for their punctual correspondence, by which I 
 am frequently served with an agreeable relish, after 
 being satiated with the harsh food of the law. I often 
 thought, during the winter, that it must be a most 
 pleasant thing, when you could enjoy all the advan- 
 tages of society, without exposure to the inclement 
 season ; instead of being confined within the lonesome 
 walls of a country cottage, almost buried in banks of 
 snow. But how reversed is the comparison, as spring 
 now approaches, with her vivifying influence, when 
 the cottage is perfumed with rural fragrance, and all 
 things look cheerful from the genial rays of Sol. How 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 73 
 
 pleasing to hear the' sweet singing birds every morn- 
 ing announce the arrival of day, and by their melodious 
 notes invite you to partake of their gayety. Fortune, 
 or rather providence is, generally speaking, equal to all 
 in her favors ; and indeed it would seem contrary to all 
 our ideas of justice, if men in one line of life were 
 denied equal happiness with others, when at the same 
 time the good of the community requires that a variety 
 of occupations Should be pursued. 
 
 I have made some progress in my studies, but not 
 so great as I expected I would have made by this time, 
 when I began them. It is impossible I find to apply 
 to them with Nassovian diligence. I mean now to 
 begin a regular course of reading, intermixing history 
 &c., with the law, and will take the Bible as the first 
 and most important history. 
 
 I am not certain whether this letter is paying a debt, 
 or advancing upon credit ; but rather believe the latter 
 is the case, and if so, I shall expect a good remittance, 
 as punctuality you know is the life of merchandise ; 
 and beside, I shall be very necessitous. It always gives 
 me pleasure to have a good paymaster for my debtor ; 
 there is then all the pleasure of anticipation, with a 
 certainty of real enjoyment. With esteem and affec- 
 tion, I am your constant friend, 
 
 Alexander White.' 
 
 ' Philadelphia, June 17, 1794. 
 My dear White, 
 
 It is a long time since I have written to you, and 
 much longer since I heard from you ; a letter is now 
 so great a rarity, that I anxiously wish for one. In 
 mercantile phrase, I am largely the creditor, and you 
 are greatly in arrears ; which, if you fail to make up, 
 7 
 
74 MEMOIROF 
 
 I shall direct some attorney in your neighborhood to 
 put it in suit. You had better then, with all speed, 
 hasten to discharge your debt. How much law have 
 you got in your head by this time ? Do you think you 
 have enough to perplex an honest farmer, and make it 
 appear to him that wrong is right ? If so, for mercy's 
 sake stop, for I am sure you have learned all the art of 
 your profession. 
 
 The poor fellows at Princeton are kept as hard at it 
 as ever, and the Whig Society rules them with a rod of 
 iron. Yours affectionately, 
 
 J. H. HOBART.' 
 
 On the above letter is endorsed in Mr. 
 Hobart's hand-writing, — ' Princeton, July 23d. 
 Wrote to White, informing him of my intention 
 and views in entering into the ministry.' This 
 letter is not found. The next from him is as 
 follows : 
 
 ' Princeton, August 26, 1794. 
 My dear White, 
 
 I thank you very sincerely for your good wishes 
 in the new engagements on which I am entering; 
 and the affectionate manner in which you express 
 them, renders them still more pleasing to me. When 
 I look forward to the important duties that will be 
 incumbent on me, I feel no small degree of anxiety, 
 and were I to rely on myself alone, I should shrink 
 back from the undertaking. Your remarks on the 
 importance of religion, my dear WTiite, much pleased 
 me. They spring from that good sense, and soundness 
 of principle, which I may say without flattery have 
 always distinguished you. I would add to what you 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 75 
 
 have said : If religion be of acknowledged importance, 
 why is it not more generally professed 1 If it be 
 necessary to the existence of civil society, and to the 
 support of government, why do not public men guide 
 themselves by its precepts ? Ought not every one who 
 feels its importance, both as respects the present and 
 the future, to regulate his conduct by it? This is 
 certainly the dictate of reason. Those again who are 
 influenced by religion to become austere in their con- 
 duct and deportment, though they may be sincere, are 
 yet certainly misguided. The Christian has certainly 
 the most reason to be cheerful. The prospect of future 
 happiness gives additional enjoyment to the present, 
 and is a powerful support under every affliction. 
 Though it do not wholly exclude the pleasures of the 
 world, it yet offers others infinitely more valuable, 
 while the consciousness that the greatest and best of 
 Beings not only pardons his sins, but extends to him 
 favor and protection — diffuses through the soul of the 
 Christian a happiness which those alone who feel it 
 can know. The news of the death of our common 
 friend Rhea has, I suppose, before this time reached 
 you. Thus we see how the best prospects are prema- 
 turely blasted. Does not the reflection naturally arise, 
 ' how uncertain is life and human enjoyments.' 
 
 My time has passed very happily in the society of 
 the students, but 1 cannot say I have done as much as 
 I expected. It is probable that immediately after the 
 Commencement I shall go to Philadelphia, and enter 
 directly on the study of divinity. How and Campbell 
 were competitors for the Latin Salutatory ; the former 
 is a fine little fellow from Trenton, and lived with me 
 during the last year I was at college ; he is not more 
 than seventeen years of age. 
 
76 MEMOIROF 
 
 I got a letter the other day from Watkins. In the 
 southern states they are for tarring and feathering 
 every one who does not approve of every violent mea- 
 sure which hot-headed, demagogues may advocate. 
 Freedom of opinion, that very essence of liberty, is 
 destroyed among them, and yet they wish to make a 
 monopoly of republicanism. If I am not allowed to 
 think as I please, and profess my sentiments as long as 
 I support the constitution and laws of my country, it is 
 of little consequence who prevents me, whether the 
 Empress of Russia, or one of these democratic socie- 
 ties. Indeed I sometimes tremble for the safety of my 
 country. Such is the spirit of license cherished by 
 ambitious demagogues, and countenanced by the heat 
 and impetuosity of some of the representatives of the 
 people, that I sometimes fear the consequences will be 
 fatal to the peace and happiness of our country. But I 
 yet hope and trust that the good sense of the people in 
 general, will be made, in the hands of Providence, the 
 instrument for supporting the liberty and prosperity of 
 these United States. 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 J. H. HOBAHT.' 
 
 ' WoodvUle, 8th September, 1794. 
 My dear Henry, 
 
 To you who are acquainted with my attachment to 
 our departed friend, I need not express the grief his 
 death occasioned me. The time has been, when I 
 thought I could scarcely live without him ; but a long 
 separation, though it did not lessen my affection, never- 
 theless diminished my dependence on his advice and 
 example to direct my conduct ; but I hasten from a 
 subject on which my mind is but too inclined to dwell. 
 
BISHOP H O B A.RT. 77 
 
 The decision of the honors presents more cheerful 
 ideas ; no doubt our Society has produced another crop 
 of valuable fruit, and while we see time consuming 
 one even before it is mature, it is a consolation that 
 there are fresh supplies still growing. Your favor of 
 the 10th instant leads my mind to a variety of inter- 
 esting reflections. The fleeting nature of time, which 
 passes by almost unnoticed by the whole creation, is a 
 matter highly important to every accountable being. 
 Time carries us far distant from objects that once were 
 present, and pleased our fancy, and gratified our desires, 
 while we are yet thinking that we need only turn about 
 to behold them as usual. The difficulty of keeping our 
 passions under the guidance of reason, is painted by 
 you in striking colors. This difficulty seems designed 
 as a criterion to ascertain our real virtue ; for I con- 
 ceive, as far as any person indulges a passion in oppo- 
 sition to reason, so far does he wander from the straight 
 and narrow path of virtue. Although I believe few 
 are happier than myself, yet I find a great difference 
 between my present situation and my fbrmer one at 
 college, where every thing glided on in tranquil felicity. 
 It is therefore with mixed feelings of pleasure and 
 regret, that I hear of your being again seated within 
 the enchanting walls of Nassau — of pleasure, because 
 you must there enjoy what can rarely be experienced 
 in this tumultuous world — of regret, because it pro- 
 duces a fresh recollection of those happy moments I 
 once enjoyed there, and which are gone, alas, never to 
 return. You will, no~doubt, well improve the very 
 favorable opportunity given for study and reflection. 
 As far as I am judge, your plan is extremely proper. 
 The Bible is certainly the foundation of all true reli- 
 gion ; but while a thorough acquaintance with it is 
 
 IT* 
 
78 MEMOIROF 
 
 absolutely necessary, you will yet reap great advantage 
 from a general and extended knowledge of other sub- 
 jects. Such knowledge would be profitable to persons 
 in any line of life, but more especially to those who 
 derive their usefulness from their powers of persuasion. 
 Knowledge fills the mind with ideas, and an acquaint- 
 ance with good authors greatly facilitates the expression 
 and explanation of those ideas. As soon as my in- 
 tended change of business is effected, and I become so 
 settled as to pay proper attention to so great a subject, 
 I mean to appropriate a certain portion of my time to 
 the study of the Bible. 
 
 I remain, &c., 
 
 Alexander White 3d.' 
 
 Of this college intimacy, the last record 
 that remains, is a letter dated ' Woodville, 21st 
 January, 1796,' which closes the coiTespond- 
 ence with the theme with which it began, ' the 
 welfare of the whigs.' ' Well, what is going 
 on in our alma mater ? Is the old routine of 
 action still kept up 1 How do our brother whigs 
 prosper- 1 Are they as distinguished for their 
 virtue and literature, as those for whom they 
 take their name were for their patriotism 1 In 
 short, what are you and all my friends at 
 Princeton doing 1 but I suspect my friends are 
 now scattered over the face of the earth.' 
 
 But among his college friendships, one de- 
 serves a fuller mention, not only from the pecu- 
 liar warmth of the attachment, but from the 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 79 
 
 deeper interest given to it by an early and long 
 lamented death. Abraham Skinner, to whom 
 allusion has already been made, as a junior 
 student from Long-Island reclaimed by his 
 friend's influence from thoughtlessness, if not 
 from vice, appears to have been an amiable 
 youth,- of great mildness of character, sweet- 
 ness of disposition, and purity of heart, though 
 by nature inclined to indolence, and little ac- 
 customed by habit to self-denial. Above sixty 
 letters from his young mentor, still remain to 
 testify the warmth, sincerity, and spiritual value 
 of his friendship. They occupy the period of 
 two years, which intervened between their sepa- 
 ration at college, and the death of Skinner. 
 The following will be sufiicient to convey their 
 moral tone, the college details being omitted as 
 
 ' Philadelphia, May 8tli, 1794. 
 My dearest Skinner, 
 
 As I cannot be with you, I wish you had some 
 companion who might in some degree supply the 
 absence of your friend. A disposition so remarkably 
 fond of society as yours, stands in need of much indul- 
 gence ; but as you cannot now enjoy it, be contented. 
 Reflect that your retired situation gives you many 
 advantages. You can pursue with more vigor your 
 studies, and standing less in the way of temptation, 
 acquire habits of seriousness and reflection. Society 
 however, is necessary, and as you cannot enjoy as 
 
80 M EM O I R OF 
 
 much as you wish, strive to render what you have 
 more agreeable. Indeed, my dear Skinner, I think 
 your situation valuable on many accounts, and the 
 greatest happiness I can enjoy in my absence from 
 you, will be to hear of your improvement. I am, 
 therefore, delighted to hear that you have read so 
 much during the last winter. You have considerable 
 time for improvement before you, every moment of it 
 is valuable. But religion is the one thing needful. 
 AU our attainments in human science, all our boasted 
 improvements of the mind, will sleep in death. But 
 religion will be our stay through time, and through 
 eternity. O, my dear Skinner, let true religion be our 
 choice, and let us learn what true religion is from the 
 Scriptures of God. We shall there find that repent- 
 ance, faith, and obedience, are its main pUlars. Let us 
 not, then, place our reliance in the mere performance 
 of external duty, nor even in those more amiable accom- 
 plishments which do not flow from a sincere love of 
 God and faith in a Redeemer. If we are not feelingly 
 convinced, that of ourselves we can do nothing, that 
 the Spirit of grace must subdue and purify our diseased 
 nature, and that the all-atoning merits of a blessed 
 Redeemer alene can give us a title to immortal happi- 
 ness, and reconcile an offended God, aU our works and 
 righteousness will avail us nothing. Let me then 
 earnestly entreat you to give attention to your spiritual 
 concerns, to read the word of God and comments upon 
 it; and above all, to pray earnestly that he would 
 guide you by his Holy Spirit in the way of truth. I 
 long ardently to see you, my dearest Skinner, and rest 
 assured, that if in my power, I will embrace you this 
 summer. * * * * Your sincere and affectionate 
 friend, J. H. Hobart.' 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 81 
 
 ' Princelon, July 12, 1794. 
 **»*»* * 
 
 The scenes around me often recalyou, my dearest 
 Skinner, to my memory, and raise emotions of tender- 
 ness and affection which I cannot express. It was here 
 our friendship was first formed, here we have passed 
 the happiest hours, and here our affection went through 
 those, various trials which have proved its sincerity. 
 But why be grateful to me ? I want not what I do not 
 merit. Your letter breathes an affection and sincerity 
 which will always make you dear to me. I would, there- 
 fore, use my influence in earnestly entreating you to make 
 the salvation of your soul the object of your immediate 
 and constant care. Seriously examine your own heart. 
 'Tis the grace of God alone through a Saviour that can 
 subdue it — that can change its obstinate and sinful 
 desires. You will meet with many discouragements ; 
 the world, the flesh, and the devil, are all your enemies ; 
 they will all strive to destroy the divine seed -in your 
 soul; but your helper is God, your redeemer is the 
 Lord. Trust in the Saviour, he is all-powerful, he can 
 vanquish all your enemies. Seek him and you shall 
 find him. He never yet rejected the penitent sinner. 
 O, my friend, seriously think on these things. ' Taste 
 and see that the Lord is good,' that ' religion's ways are 
 ways of pjeasantriess, and all her paths' are peace.' 
 Unworthy as I am, feeble as my faith is in the Saviour, 
 I would not exchange the peace I feel from my trust 
 in him, for all the honors and enjoyments of the world. 
 Recoilect that these will fade away, and the end of time 
 will be the beginning' of eternity. I will not, ray dear- 
 est Skinner, ask your pardon for being thus free with 
 you ; my love for you constrains me. I also stand in 
 need of your prayers. Pray that Goo would subdue 
 
82 MEMOIROr 
 
 by his grace the corruption of my heart, that he would 
 wean me from an attachment to the world, and that he 
 would make every power of my soul, as well as every 
 action of my life, to praise and adore his great and 
 glorious name. Pray especially for yourself If you 
 do not already, pray that you may be led to see your 
 guilt and misery, and need of a Redeemer ; that you 
 may embrace Jesus Chwst as your Saviour, and trust 
 in him with your whole soul. And that this may be 
 your condition, use diligently, perseveringly, and above 
 all, sincerely, all the means of grace. Have stated 
 times for devotion. Read the Bible, that precious trea- 
 sure of the grace and love of God, and pray that God 
 would enlighten your understanding. 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 J. H. HOBAHT.' 
 
 ' Princeton, August 9, 1794. 
 ****** 
 If any thing, my dearest friend, could render you 
 dearer to me than you already are, it would be your filial 
 affection ; and as this is particularly your motive to the 
 study of the law, I would not for a moment think of 
 advising you to any thing else. No, that is the profes- 
 sion it is your duty to pursue, and in which perhaps 
 with your feelings you can best serve your Creator. 
 It rejoices me to think it is your wish and intention to 
 serve him. I am glad to find you have made such 
 progress in human science ; but O, neglect not that 
 divine and heavenly knowledge, which will make you 
 happy here and hereafter. The law, you think, in the 
 practice of it, will not be very pleasing. Neither that, 
 my Skinner, nor any other profession, can afford you 
 real happiness without religion. I am far from suppos- 
 
BISHOPHOBART. 83 
 
 ing that the practice of the law is incompatible with 
 holiness of heart ; but as you may meet with more 
 temptations in one profession than in another, so I 
 think you will meet with a great many in the law ; but 
 a firm trust in your Saviour, under the assistance of the 
 grace of God, will enable you to go through them all. 
 My first wish is, let your profession be what it will, 
 that you may obtain and preserve an interest in the 
 atonement of the Redeemer, and serve him and your 
 God in holiness of life. I remain, my dearest Skinner, 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 J. H. HOBART.' 
 
 ' Philadelphia, November 10, 1794. 
 
 My dearest Skinner, 
 
 * * » * Your letter of the 31st October yielded 
 me peculiar pleasure. While it was expressive of the 
 warmest affection, it conveyed information relative to 
 your studies and pursuits in the highest degree pleasing. 
 Separated from you, a very principal consolation to me 
 is, that you are engaged in the improvement of your 
 mind, and that your prudence and goodness lead you 
 in a reliance on the assistance of the Almighty, to avoid 
 every course that would tend to the debasement of 
 your mental faculties, or your moral taste. With 
 respect to the members of the law societies of which 
 you speak, I hope you will exercise your usual pru- 
 dence, and contract no intimacy farther than common 
 civility requires, without being assured that their cha- 
 racters are unblaraeable, and their dispositions good. 
 Better be without companions than have bad ones. 
 The study of your profession, and the assistance you 
 give your father, render your present situation most 
 proper, and therefore it should be most pleasing. You 
 
84 MEMOIROF 
 
 write very feelingly on the subject "of religion, and 
 complain that you want a friend to direct you. Where 
 will you find one ? My dear Skinner, ' a friend that 
 sticketh closer than a brother,' is ever present with 
 you, and ready to assist you. Look not unto a worm 
 of the dust, but look unto your Saviour, and through 
 him to your God. ' His love is indeed better than life.' 
 That he may guide, preserve, and bless you, is the 
 prayer of a friend more a£fectionate than language can 
 express, 
 
 J. H. HOBART.' 
 
 ' Princeton, January 27, 1795. 
 You are certainly, my dear Skinner, under the 
 greatest obligations to your dear parents, and I rejoice 
 that you have it in your power to make a return. As 
 well as yourself, I feel the impulse of gratitude to my 
 one only parent, whose affection has extended to me 
 every proper gratification, though at the expense of her 
 own ease. Alas, how far do I fall short of the gratitude 
 due to this my earthly parent, and how infinitely more 
 defective am I, in a proper expression toward that 
 heavenly Parent ' who giveth me all good things richly 
 to enjoy.' I feel grateful to my dear mother for the 
 willingness with which she consents to my now living 
 from her. She was pleasing herself with the hope that 
 I would spend my time in future with her. In this she 
 makes a great sacrifice. Her income, which has never 
 been more than barely sufiicient to support her family, 
 has become now, owing to the enhanced price of pro- 
 visions, and the depreciation of money, virtually less ; 
 and thus she must deprive herself of many gratifica- 
 tions, in order to maintain me at Princeton. Thus 
 does she sacrifice her own comfort for that of her son. 
 
BISHOF HOBART. 85 
 
 But this she has always done. O, my friend, Provj^ 
 dence has indeed bjessed me with a mother whose 
 value and worth I am afraid I shall never sufficiently 
 know, tilll am deprived of her. But I pray God that 
 he will warm my heart with gratitude to her, and make 
 my whole life a suitable return for her Jove. God has 
 given you talents, my best friend, which are capable, 
 by due cultivation, of advancing you to honor; and 
 with the disposition you have to improve them, I often 
 please myself with the prospect of the future useful- 
 ness of my friend. May God qualify you for every 
 duty, and enable you so to live in this life, that yoij 
 may finally live with him in life everlasting. 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 J. H. HOBAHT.' 
 
 'Princeton, March }ith, 1795. 
 I received the usual satisfaction from the last letter 
 of my dearest friend. It was the more pleasing, be- 
 cause it was written in those moments of cessation 
 from business, which you might have given to relaxa- 
 tion. To be always so engaged in business, as to 
 possess no leisure for reflection, is equally detrimental 
 to the improvement of the mind and the morals. ' To 
 commune with our own hearts,' is a duty of religion : 
 it will never be otherwise implanted in the heart. 
 To put the busy scenes of the world at times at a 
 distance, to consider a future state as our home, to 
 contemplate the perfections of the Deity, and the duty 
 of imitating them — to hold in view the value of reli- 
 gion, and its glorious rewards in a future state, are 
 among the best cherishers of virtue and piety. Sleep, 
 as you observe, is sweet to the body fatigued by labor, 
 or the mind by study, and the goodness of God is con- 
 8 
 
86 MEMOIROF 
 
 spicuous in so ordering the succession of day and night 
 as to please by their variety, as well as by the repose 
 which one affords from the duties of the other. You 
 find yourself, you say, unable to do much at night ; in 
 fact, if the day be well improved, the night is best given 
 to sleep. My eyes still continue so weak as to prevent 
 me studying at night'; but I generally rise at five in 
 the morning, so that by the evening I get pretty well 
 tired, though I find I cannot study as much as I wish, 
 from indisposition sometimes, from hindrance at others. 
 What pleasure would I receive, my dearest friend, 
 could you enjoy at this place with me, the advantages 
 and pleasures of retirement. How would our exer- 
 tions be bent to mutual improvement. Ah, my friend, 
 the pleasing hopes we have so often indulged of spend- 
 ing our time together, will not, I am afraid, be soon 
 realized. Duty at present calls us, and perhaps through 
 life will call us to different scenes of action. We must 
 acquiesce. Let us be diligent in framing our lives 
 according to the will of God, and we shall spend an 
 eternity of happiness together. There can be no 
 greater incentive to duty than a sense of our obliga- 
 tions to him, and no support more effectual under the 
 cares and misfortunes of life, than that which the en- 
 joyment of his favor confers. Let me know what place 
 of worship you attend. Dr. Moore,* one of the Episco- 
 pal preachers, is, I am told, a man of great talents and 
 sound piety. I dare say you take great pleasure in 
 improving your mind. I know I do, and yet my pro- 
 gress is not equal to my wishes. I am animated to 
 diligence very much by the consideration of the many 
 great and good characters of other days. I wish fre- 
 
 * Afterward Bishop of the Diocese of New- York. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 87 
 
 quently we were together, in order that we might 
 rightly regulate and improve our time. But since we 
 are denied this happiness, let us be strenuous in our 
 exertions to improve ourselves and one another. We 
 cannot sufficiently praise our God that he hks in every 
 respect connected our duty with our happiness; for 
 religion requires the sacrifice of no one passion, or the 
 practice of any one duty, which is not calculated to 
 promote our peace of mind, and our best temporal 
 interests. May this reflection, with a sense of the long 
 suffering goodness of God notwithstanding our sins, 
 excite us to repentance and reformation. Let me then 
 press you, as I would urge myself, to be ' diligent in 
 working out your salvation.' Delay not the great 
 work of repentance till it be too late. Begin with the 
 reformation of heart and life, abstaining from every 
 known sin, and practising every known duty ; and let 
 all your exertions be accompanied with sincere and 
 fervent prayer to God for his grace-, without which 
 they cannot be effectual ; and may He who is abund- 
 ant in mercy and grace, form our hearts to his most 
 blessed image, and our lives to his most holy law, that 
 when this mortal life is ended, we may be received into 
 life eternal through the all-sufHcient merits of Chhist 
 our Saviour. Do not our hearts answer, Amen. O let 
 us then enter on that course of life which will conduct 
 us to the mansions of eternal bliss. That God may 
 preserve, bless, and finally crown you with eternal 
 happiness, my dearest Skinner, is the constant prayer 
 of your sincerely affectionate Hobart.' 
 
 If such admonitions can be rendered more 
 impressive, it is by the reflection that the young 
 friend to whom they were addressed was within 
 
88 MEMOIROF 
 
 a few weeks prematurely cut off; he fell a 
 sacrifice to the prevailing epidemic of that sum- 
 mer. The last letter of young Hobart, in the 
 hands of his biographer, addressed to his friend, 
 is one equally admonitory. After noticing the 
 sudden death of two dissipated students in the 
 college, he thus closes : ' It is an awful lesson, 
 and affords to all a proof of the. advantage which 
 in the hour of death the good man enjoys over 
 him who has spent his time in 'drunkenness 
 and riotous living,' or in ' fulfilling the lusts of 
 the flesh.' May you and I, my friend, warned 
 thereto by these instances of mortality, be dili- 
 gent in our preparation for the awful hour of 
 death, an'd the more solemn day of judgment. 
 
 J. H. HoBART.' 
 
 The following is from the afflicted father, 
 communicating the intelligence. 
 
 ' My dear Hobart, 
 
 How shall I begin this sad epistle ! I must, I must 
 begin it, and be you prepared to read. My darling boy 
 is no more. With this morning's dawn his pious soul 
 took its flight to regions of happiness and peace. Yes, 
 my friend, his race though short, is run, and he is gone, 
 I hope, to meet a merciful God. O sad lesson, O bitter 
 cup ! how shall I drink'it ! I will, I will bow submis- 
 sive to Him who cannot err, who gave to me, and has 
 taken from me ; blessed be his holy name. Teach me, 
 O gracious God, to bear my affliction ; support and 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 89 
 
 strengthen me, and make me sensible of my depend- 
 
 ance upon thee. But amidst this direful confusion and 
 
 distress, what a consolation that he had his reason 
 
 almost to the last ; and in his lucid intervals, very 
 
 shortly before his dissolution, his expressions and 
 
 ejaculations exhibited strong proofs of his fesignation 
 
 to the will of Heaven, and a firm reliance on his God 
 
 through the merits of a blessed Redeemer. Let these 
 
 things, my friend, comfort you, and learn by his fate 
 
 to be always ready. Your letter of 1st September he 
 
 received on his death-bed ; it was read to him by his 
 
 mother, but the invitation came too late. You .have 
 
 our blessings for it ; and though my child is dead, I 
 
 know with you his memory will survive; he had a 
 
 place in your heart, and I know it will not be effaced. 
 
 Your afflicted, but sincere friend, 
 
 A. Skinner. 
 New - York, 6th September, 1795. 
 
 Sunday Morning, 9 A. M. 
 
 P. S. On opening his desk this morning, the first 
 thing that presented itself to me was the enclosed 
 scrap. I am induced to think it was part of a letter 
 intended for'you. Keep it, it is his last. If ever you 
 come this way, come to me, and let me embrace my 
 dear child's friend. Write me, Hobart, it will console 
 me, it will give his mother some ease. 
 
 2d P. S. Pardon me for not sending you the paper 
 above alluded to, his mother cannot spare it yet ; but I 
 will preserve it for you.' 
 
 The endorsement on this letter reads thus : 
 ' Abraham Skinner, Esq., New-York, Septem- 
 ber 6, 1795. Containing information of the 
 8* 
 
90 MEMOIROP 
 
 death of his son, my dearest friend, who was first 
 united to me in the bonds of a cloSe friendship 
 in the summer of 1793, at Princeton College. I 
 did not receive this letter at Frankfort till the 
 fourteenth, the day I entered on my nineteenth 
 year. Melancholy birth-day. I write down 
 these circumstances, from a wish to preserve on 
 a tablet more durable than memory, every thing 
 relating to this melancholy event.' The answer 
 to the heart-broken father, turns him to his only 
 source of comfort. ' My dear Sir, — I sincerely 
 hope and pray that the weight of grief which 
 overpowered you, has been rendered lighter by 
 those consolations which a trust in the wisdom 
 and goodness of the gracious Parent of the uni- 
 verse never fails to inspire. Never did a father 
 lament the loss of a more amiable son. To 
 cease to mourn altogether is impossible. Reli- 
 gion requires us not to smother the feelings of 
 nature ; but while she permits us to mourn, she 
 teaches us not to 'mourn as those who have no 
 hope,' for we enjoy the blessed assurance, that 
 the souls of those we love exist beyond the 
 grave, and we trust that the virtue and piety of 
 him we lament, has procured him, through the 
 merits of his Saviour, an admittance into those 
 blissful regions where ' sorrow and sighing are 
 done away' — thither let us aspire. Convinced 
 of the uncertainty of earthly enjoyments, let us 
 
B 1 S H O P HO B AR T. 91 
 
 seek those which are at God's right hand, and 
 we may then hope once again to enjoy the affec- 
 tion of him whose loss we deplore. Strangers 
 and pilgrims upon earth, he has arrived before 
 us at the end of his journey. He has left us to 
 struggle with many difficulties in our pilgrim- 
 age. These he has escaped ; why then should 
 we repine 1 His crown of glory was attained 
 with, little toiL Infinite wisdom sees fit to try 
 us longer.' 
 
 The reply to this, marks still more strongly 
 the feelings of the grateful father. 
 
 ' Jamaica, L. I,, October lith, 1795. 
 Since the receipt of your afFectionate letter, which is 
 the only one I have received since the death of my dear 
 boy, we have abandoned our distressed dwelling, and 
 fled to this place, where we have found an asylum 
 from the dreadful contagion, but not from the wretch- 
 edness occasioned by our sad misfortune. No, Hobart ; 
 no time, no_ change can eradicate that remembrance. 
 Yet why do I reason thus ? why do I complain ? 
 'Twas the will of Heaven — 'twas right. He was not 
 mine, he was too good for such a world, and lived as 
 he died, prepared for death, and fitted for a glorious 
 immortality. A few minutes before his last, sensible, 
 calm, and serene, he gave me proofs of his willingness 
 to depart, and his last accents breathed submission to 
 the will of Heaven. May Heaven bless you, my dear 
 Hobart, in your pursuits in this lifCj and may God 
 Almighty, of his infinite mercy and goodness, receive 
 you hereafter, with the joyful sound of ' Well done. 
 
92 MEMOIROF 
 
 good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of 
 thy Lord.' Adieu, I can write no more. 
 
 A. Skinner.' 
 
 That the survivor felt the separation deeply 
 and long, is sufficiently evident, from his care- 
 ful preservation through a busy life of these 
 early records ; but it must have been, certainly 
 at all times, with the alleviating thought, that 
 his friendship had not been ' of this world.' 
 Well were it indeed for youthful intimacies, if 
 they were oftener thus hallowed. 
 
 Although the one just recorded was the earli- 
 estj and perhaps the vsrarmest of young Hobart's 
 intimacies, it was not the only one. One more 
 was destined to an early dissolution — two others 
 continued through life, to cheer, and sometimes 
 to agitate, a bosom feelingly alive to all the 
 tender emotions of our nature. The first alluded 
 to was with a youth, whose name thus appears, 
 for the first time, in a letter to his friend Skinner. 
 
 ' Princeton, August 25, 1794. 
 I wish you here, particularly to know a sweet boy, 
 for whom I indeed feel a great affection. I want you 
 to love him too. His name is Forsyth. His father 
 was marshal for the district of Georgia, and was shot 
 dead while in the execution of his oflBce, by one 
 Beverley Allen. Perhaps you may have read the cir- 
 cumstances of his death in the papers last winter. He 
 is about fourteen. Poor fellow, his sensibility is very 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 93 
 
 great. We were walking together last Saturday, when 
 the circumstances of his father's death, and the situa- 
 tion of his family, rushed so forcibly on his mind, that 
 he cried till I almost thought he would break his 
 heart. You may be sure such an instance of sensibility 
 attached me to him. I have often talked to him of 
 you, and he said to me the other day, ' You must let 
 Skinner know I am here.' This was said with so 
 much simplicity, it struck me very much. He seems 
 to love you, merely from what he has heard of you. 
 It gives me great satisfaction to think, that by my 
 residence in college I may be the means of benefiting 
 him in his studies. He is a little thoughtless, but 
 desirous in the extreme of doing what is right ; and I 
 have no doubt but that if Providence should please to 
 bless his own exertions and mine for him, he will come 
 out of college with as high honors as any in his class. 
 This would be a desirable event, for his widowed 
 mother and a younger brother depend greatly upon 
 him for their future comfort and happiness in life. 
 Though young, he is nearly as tall as I am ; his person 
 not very handsome, but his countenance beams simpli- 
 city, innocence, and sweetness. In this respect it is 
 an index to his mind, which is in the highest degree 
 amiable and- affectionate. Manly in his deportment, 
 and pleasing in his manners, he is admirably calculated 
 to excite esteem. His judgment astonishingly mature, 
 and his genius quick and lively. Alive to every tender 
 feeling, and particularly to the emotions of friendship, 
 is he not worthy of our love ? Yes, I love him for his 
 own worth, and for his resemblance to my friend. 
 What reason have I not for gratitude to God for his 
 kindness, in thus giving me the first pf earthly blessings, 
 the sweets of friendship. 
 
 Yours ever, J. H. Hobart.' 
 
94 MEMOIROP 
 
 After near three years' companionship had 
 confirmed this hasty attachment into what 
 better deserved the name of friendship, he too 
 was taken from him. 
 
 After a short residence at Princeton as a 
 g^-aduate, young Forsyth returned to Georgia, 
 his native State, and entered upon the study of 
 the law with the fairest prospects, but survived 
 his return only a few months. The following 
 letters are taken from a small package, carefully 
 arranged, and endorsed by the survivor : they 
 date from the beginning of their intimacy, when 
 one was in his eighteenth, and the other in his 
 fourteenth year. Though the letters of Forsyth 
 alone remain, they sufficiently indicate the 
 subject and tone of those of his friend, to which 
 they are answers ; and indeed, like reflected 
 light, perhaps best set forth his character, by 
 showing the influence it exercised. It was at 
 any rate a friendship which seems to have been 
 blessed by Providence as one means of fitting 
 for an early fate this amiable young man, whose 
 thoughtless errors, and sceptical opinions, gradu- 
 ally gave way before the firmness and piety of 
 his Christian friend. 
 
 ' Princeton, 5th November, 1794. 
 My dearest John, 
 
 I received your letter of the 3rd instant, which 
 was as usual full of affection. My dear Hobart, your 
 advice is that of a friend, and as such your Robert will 
 observe it. I would now commence, as you advise, 
 
BISHOP HO BART. 95 
 
 Knox's Essays, but that Fitzgerald has taken the keys 
 of the library to Philadelphia, so that I can neither get 
 that nor the old minutes. I am now reading Rollin's 
 Taste of Solid Glory, (the session does not begin till 
 Monday,) and have worked some of the Algebra. 
 Scott has not come yet ; I wrote him by post twice, 
 and have not heard from him ; I cannot conceive what 
 he is after. In all your letters, ray dear friend, appear 
 those sentiments you have ever expressed for your 
 Robert, and which have afforded me the greatest plea- 
 sure : the unreservedness with which I can unfold my 
 heart and pour out my thoughts to the best of friends, 
 is a blessing very few enjoy, and which I return God 
 thanks for giving me. I entreat you, ray Hobart, to 
 forgive me for acting in so foolish a manner, and with 
 so little reflection, as calling in question the affection 
 of one who cannot avoid loving one who loves him as 
 I do ; it was entirely owing to my acting without 
 thought, and I know you will excuse me. I will indeed, 
 henceforward, impute to your affectionate wishes for 
 my improvement in. virtue, every thing you say, and 
 beg that the fear of hurting me will not stop you from 
 delivering^ your sentiments with that freedom with 
 which your conduct has always been marked ; and 
 be assured, I will impute it to no other cause. O, my 
 Hobart, in what a condition, wretched and helpless, 
 was I when I first saw you : when I reflect upon it, 
 I cannot help praising God, for at least calling rae, 
 through you, from destruction, I trust, to salvation. 
 Yes, ray dearest friend, my heart swells with love 
 and gratitude to you for it ; but it was God directed 
 you, and to him should my gratitude be turned. 
 Adieu ; may God bless you, my dear Hobart. 
 
 Robert M. Forsyth.' 
 
96 MEMOIROF 
 
 As the name of Dr. Minto has been already 
 mentioned in this memoir as one of the profess- 
 ors at this period in the college, the following 
 characteristic picture may not be uninteresting : 
 it is extracted from a subsequent letter of young 
 Forsyth. 
 
 ' When I was at Dr. Minto's, he gave me this 
 very good advice, — to attend to my business — . 
 that I might dependupon it, a young man is never 
 in so important a station as when at college — if 
 his character should be lost or impaired then, 
 it would be a wonder if he ever regained it — 
 that for his part, he would not give a pinch of 
 snuff for a person who had not the fear of God 
 before his eyes — that he was extremely sorry 
 to hear there were some students in college 
 who professed themselves infidels ; sometimes 
 he thought them contemptible, and at others^ 
 objects of pity — that he hoped I would do well, 
 and had not a doubt, from my conduct hereto- 
 fore, that I would — that I must consider study 
 as the only method to be serviceable to myself, 
 or others ; and finally, that he thought a person 
 must be wretched who did not serve other 
 people.' 
 
 'New -York, April^Z, 1795. 
 My dearest John, 
 
 I know not how to address you. I am very sensi- 
 ble of my folly in coming on here ; but Mr. J. per- 
 
BISHOP HOBART, 97 
 
 suaded me a little after we left Princeton, and I pro- 
 mised to come without once reflecting on the folly 
 and imprudence of such a thing. I pray you, make 
 allowances for me, and don't be angry with me, and 
 write to me, my devoted friend. I would have written 
 to you before, but I could not get ink at one time, and 
 at another paper, and therefore I hope you will forgive 
 me. The more I reflect on my conduct, the more I 
 repent of my folly. Manifest then your love to me, 
 and be not offended. Do, my John, act now as if I 
 had consulted you about coming, and had taken leave 
 of you as I should have done. I shall write you every 
 day while I stay, which will be but a very short time, 
 as I shall return as soon as decency will permit. With 
 that affection which always has and always will warm 
 my breast, I remain your own 
 
 Robert.' 
 
 ' Princeton, May 5th, 1795. 
 My dear John's affectionate letter was received with 
 much pleasure, and restored to his Robert's breast 
 much happiness. I went to church to-day, and heard 
 a very excellent discourse, which concluded with a 
 short biography of Dr. Witherspoon. Good old Mrs. 
 Knox has got two more boarders; young men from 
 Jamaica, Long-Island. They are acquainted with our 
 Skinner. One of them asked me if I was not a relation 
 of his, I was so much like him. The appointment of 
 . president is not yet determined, or rather not yet 
 known. People seem to have no doubt that Dr. Smith 
 will be appointed. I have heard that Dr. Dwight and 
 Mr_ Woodhull are his opponents. I allow certain 
 hours of the day for study, and I suppose study alto- 
 gether ten hours. I intend, if possible, to continue in 
 9 
 
98 MEMOIROF 
 
 my resolution to study. I have got a curtain and keep 
 it drawn. Do not forget to give my love to your 
 mamma, and sister, and kiss the children for your 
 affectionate 
 
 Robert.' 
 
 ■ Princeton, May 9th, 1795. 
 
 My dearest John, 
 
 Your letters are indeed expressive of the liveliest 
 affection. They constitute a chief part of your Robert's 
 happiness. My own dear friend, you cannot conceive, 
 nor can language express, how much I miss you 
 ■wherever I go : it is well you are not always to be 
 from me ; I should not enjoy much happiness. Mrs. 
 Knox is very much pleased with her spectacles. You 
 ask me to inform you more particularly about the 
 young men from Jamaica; their names are EJiight 
 and King; they are pious good young men. The 
 students are returning fast. Session ■will commence 
 on Monday, when I am to enter on a new regulation 
 ■with regard to study, and am determined to hold, if 
 possible, the first standing in the class. Scott I expect 
 will be here on Monday ; I asked Mr. Russel to bring 
 him with him. Your advice, my dearest John, is sweet 
 to me ; it comes from your heart ; continue it then ; 
 I receive pleasure, happiness, and joy from it ; I will 
 attend td it, and by the assistance of God, ■will endea- 
 vour to practise every virtue. Farewell ! my dearest 
 John ; may God protect you, may he protect us both, 
 and preserve our friendship pure and lasting. 
 
 Robert.' 
 
 ■ Princeton, May Hth, 1795. 
 My dearest John, 
 
 The affection your letters convey; endear you 
 
 Strongly to me ; but permit me to say, I do not deserve 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 99 
 
 the half nor the third of what you give me. But be 
 assured, dear John, that I am convinced of the value 
 of time, and that I do and will employ it as well as 
 I can. I attend prayers as usual, and find very little 
 difScnlty in rising in the morning. Caldwell read a 
 sermon yesterday in church, and in the evening at 
 Society I read that of Sharpe 'on repentance and 
 a better life.' I am very much pleased with him. 
 He must have been a pious good man, and one that 
 had the good of mankind greatly at heart. I have 
 read him with , much pleasure and attention. But I 
 have much to answer for at the bar of God, more than 
 I am able to bear. A Saviour offers assistance : O that 
 Gon would enable me to accept ; that he would change 
 my heart, and receive it to himself. I will pray for 
 pardon from him — I will endeavor by my future con- 
 duct to promote his honor and glory, and the happi- 
 ness of my own soul. Your instructions, my dear 
 John, are such as merit strict attention, and, by the 
 assistance of God I will endeavor to put them in 
 practice. Continue them, my dear friend, they 
 strengthen me in my desire to follow the path of 
 righteousness. Scott has returned. You had better 
 write him. On Monday evening last the college was 
 illuminated and the cannon fired as a testimony of the 
 pleasure the students received from the appointment 
 of Dr. Smith, who delivered them his thanks the 
 evening following in the hall, with an exhortation to 
 study and improve their time. I have got to the bottom 
 of my paper too soon. I wished to say much more, 
 but shall not forget to sign myself your most devoted 
 friend, 
 
 R. M. Forsyth.' 
 
100 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ' Princeton, September 8th, 1795. 
 My dearest Friend, 
 
 Your affectionate letter of yesterday readied me 
 in the usual time. It was as all your letters, clothed 
 in language which conveyed to me the sentiments of 
 your heart. My dearest friend, your advice is admira- 
 ble. Let us, as you say, look up to God as our father 
 and our friend, and receive the consolations which 
 religion pours in. It is that alone which can render 
 us happy, both here and hereafter. Were we to depend 
 on the happiness afforded us in this life, we should be 
 continually suffering disappointments and aflBictions. 
 But when resigned to the dispensations of Providence, 
 when we have a just sense of his goodness, and all- 
 seeing eye, all the anxieties and cares of this world 
 may be wiped away. We will then be enabled to bear 
 up under every affliction, and to account the greatest 
 misfortunes as the order of Providence, and essential 
 to our own good. By these means, if ever deprived of 
 any beloved object, by reflecting who gave us all things 
 we will be content and patiently submit. 
 
 Tell me whether you are of opinion I ought to 
 compete, and what on. I practise your advice with 
 regard to my speech, and will propose to the other 
 members to meet and speak our pieces to each other 
 frequently. The Society passed an order last evening 
 for a new carpet, and Cantine was directed to write, 
 send the money, and leave the choice to you. The 
 Society expect it will be made up for the meeting of 
 the graduates at Commencement, and you must there- 
 fore have it here time enough for that purpose. I am 
 happy to hear that you have the offer of the tutorship, 
 and I hope you will accept of it as enabling you to 
 get an accurate knowledge of the languages, which 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 101 
 
 you wish,, and also have it in your power to inspect, 
 more particularly, your Robert's conduct, and assist 
 him to amend it. - Write me often, my dear John ; your 
 letters afford me inexpressible satisfaction. Continue 
 that advice which is so good and so parental. My dear 
 Hobart, you are a kind and valuable friend ; few are 
 there so blessed as I am in respect to friendship. 
 
 [The conclusion of this letter, though opening up 
 somewhat of college secrets, is yet so much to the 
 point of young Hobart's character, that it may not be 
 omitted. Besides, these things are no doubt better 
 ordered now among the students of Nassau Hall. — Ed.] 
 
 I am very much concerned about my oration. 
 Mamma's business has unavoidably delayed me. I 
 depend upon you, my John, for a speech. If you 
 cannot get Mr. Abeel's, you must write me one. It 
 will be giving you a great deal of trouble, but I know 
 it will be readily undergone to ease your Eobert of a 
 very heavy burden. If you have not_ time to write 
 one, get some good speech for me, and write the 
 addresses. -Perhaps the one 'on the Discovery of 
 America,' will be as good a one as we can get. I must 
 now conclude, with entreating my Hobart to take care 
 of himself, and in so doing to take care of me. 
 
 In every situation, whether adverse or fortunate, 
 I shall never forget to subscribe myself, what I really 
 am, my Hobart's dearest friend, 
 
 Robert M. Forsyth.' 
 
 The editor is tempted here to add another 
 
 letter of this amiable young man, which he 
 
 found among the papers of one yet dearer to 
 
 him than the subject of the present biography. 
 
 9* 
 
102 MEMOIR OF 
 
 It was addressed to a young female friend, who 
 at the early age of ten years, had conveyed to 
 him the simple hearted expression of her pure 
 regards. It is dated but a few weeks previous 
 to his death, and will serve at least to show 
 into what tone of character he was ripening. 
 
 ' Augusta, April 6th, 1797. 
 
 My dear young friend's affectionate and acceptable 
 favor was handed me a few days ago. To be thought 
 worthy the esteem of any person, affords me great 
 satisfaction. But when one for whom I feel a greater 
 regard than I can express, honors me with her friend- 
 ship, my heart overflows with the warmest gratitude. 
 Believe me, dear E., your letter excited indescribable 
 sensations ; the image of its author, virtuous, amiable, 
 and ripening to perfection, darted across my mind, 
 and I anticipated with the greatest pleasure the time 
 when she would be enjoying the rich harvest of her 
 early labors. 
 
 Happy indeed was I to hear that you were improving 
 yourself assiduously. Continue to do so, and you will 
 always command the esteem and admiration of every 
 good and virtuous mind. 
 
 The affectionate advice of your amiable mamma 
 renders all other superfluous. But in all your engage- 
 ments, dear E., forget not the great author of your 
 Being. Then will you enjoy in this life uninterrupted 
 pleasure, and in the world to come everlasting joy. 
 The agreeable evenings I spent with you and your 
 cousin Edmund, will always be remembered by me 
 with delight. My attention to you is not entitled to 
 any of your gratitude, for I assure you I was more 
 
BISHOP HOB ART. 103 
 
 than rewarded by the pleasure I received. Be so kiftd 
 as to remember me with affection to your mamma, 
 and accept for yourself the sincere and lasting esteem 
 of your affectionate friend, . 
 
 Robert M. Fohsyth.' 
 
 The following letters were called forth by the 
 news of his death shortly after. 
 
 ' Princeton, August 24, 1797. 
 John Y. Noel, Esa., Savannah. 
 
 Sir, — Will you pardon the liberty a stranger takes 
 in forcing himself upon your notice, and requesting a 
 favor from you. The close friendship I formed at this 
 place with the deceased R. M. Forsyth, deeply interests 
 me in whatever relates to him. From the great distress 
 of his family at Augusta, the letters as yet received 
 from thence contain no particulars of his last illness 
 and death. In his correspondence with me, he informed 
 me that he studied law in your office, and resided in 
 your family. I am led to conclude, therefore, that you 
 were the witness of his illness, and last moments. 
 You will much alleviate the sorrow of afflicted friend- 
 ship, if you will communicate to me particular informa- 
 tion of his last sickness and death, and whatever else 
 you may think interesting. The sensibility I feel 
 relative to the most minute circumstances relating to 
 him, must be my apology for requesting you to under- 
 take this melancholy office. My knowledge of the 
 kindness you have uniformly shown him, induces me 
 to rely on the goodness of your heart for a compliance 
 with my request, and be assured, that it will be con- 
 sidered as a favor which will increase the respect and 
 
104 MEMOIR OF 
 
 regard I shall cherish for the kind patron of my 
 deceased friend. 
 I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant, 
 
 John H. Hobart.' 
 
 ' Princeton, August 18th, 1797. 
 My dear sister has no doubt seen from the paper, 
 that her brother is called to another trial. He has 
 again lost the object of a sincere and ardent affection. 
 It seems as if I love with tenderness only to be made 
 miserable by the loss of those I love. But my idols 
 are taken from me. I am taught that this is not my 
 home — that here are not my joys. O, if you knew 
 with what tenderness and fidelity I have loved and 
 been loved, however enthusiastic my language might 
 be, you would judge it to be sincere. I have received 
 from those here, who knew my affection for Forsyth, 
 every attention and kindness. If it should please Pro- 
 vidence, to give me resignation to his will, and to save 
 me from depression of spirits, I feel inclined with 
 greater zeal than ever to perform the duties of life, 
 and while I am mindful of the uncertainty of its 
 rational pleasures, to receive and enjoy them with 
 humble thankfulness. Happy indeed should I be, 
 under every loss however severe, that I have still 
 aflfectionate relations to whom I owe so much. 
 Your afflicted brother, 
 
 J. H. HOBAHT.' 
 
 ' Frankford Hill, August 22d, 1797. 
 You judge well, my dear brother, in assuring yourself 
 of the entire sympathy of my heart in your present afflic- 
 tive trial. I am sensible that the participation of grief, 
 though soothing to the soul, avails little to lighten the 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 105 
 
 weight of the blow. I need not present to you those 
 motives of consolation which your own well grounded 
 piety will suggest, nor will it lessen the pangs of a 
 heart lilie yours, to point out the grief which the 
 unhappy mother of your deceased friend must expe- 
 rience ; the first, when the burst of sorrow has sub- 
 sided, will bring the consolation it never fails to impart, 
 and the other consideration will be, a spring of exertion 
 to your own soul, to enable you to offer a support and 
 comfort to hers. And I would entreat you, for the 
 sake of your own dear parent, and those friends who 
 tenderly love you, not to yield to that depression of 
 spirits of which you speak ; exert every faculty of your 
 soul against that cruel languor into which it will sink 
 you — that death of usefulness and active virtue. Alas ! 
 even in its happiest state, how many trials does this 
 probationary being present to us, which nothing but 
 an early acquired fortitude, the result of a rational and 
 well grounded hope of a better life, can enable us to 
 support. Let this, my dear brother, while it teaches 
 you resignation, temper the fervor and ardency of those 
 aflfections which, however amiable in themselves, will 
 embitter too much your passing days, unless calmed 
 by the full persuasion that they extend beyond the 
 grave. They were given us by the eternal Author of 
 our being, as sources of enjoyment and not misery, 
 while we look for their full fruition only in a more 
 exalted state of existence. 
 
 Ever your sympathizing sister.' 
 
 ' Princeton, September 3d, 1797. 
 How shall I thank my dear sister for that affectionate 
 sympathy and consolation which have contributed to 
 restore peace to my mind. True, indeed, the partici- 
 
106 MEMOIR OF 
 
 pation of grief will not remove the heavy load; but the 
 feeling heart that has itself been wounded, can speak 
 with a tenderness that assuages the poignancy of 
 sorrow, and is able to offer those bright hopes which 
 were its own comfort and support. O, my sister, 
 miserable indeed are those whom Heaven has gifted 
 with sensibility, if death is to tear from them for ever 
 the objects of their ardent and virtuous affection. If 
 sensibility be not a crime, why should it be made our 
 misery; and O, what misery can be greater than that 
 which accompanies the thought, that we have parted 
 for ever from those whom we love as our own souls. 
 If this destiny awaits congenial spirits whose hopes 
 and enjoyments have here been bound together by 
 mutual affection, enviable must appear to them the 
 lot of the brutes, who live without feeling and without 
 hope. No, God who is love, eternal love, has not meant 
 thus to sport with his creatures. He has given us 
 virtuous feelings to be indulged, and he separates from 
 us the objects of our affection only, that being less 
 bound to this world, we may love it less, and aspire 
 more constantly after another, where we look for the 
 full and perfect fruition of every virtuous feeling. How 
 precious in this light is the hope of immortality — 
 to the wounded spirit what a balm does it apply. The 
 resurrection of these frail and corruptible bodies to 
 purity and glory becomes a truth consoling indeed, 
 when we consider that in this perfect state we shall 
 be reunited to those whom we have loved, in an indis- 
 soluble bond. Well might the apostle in offering this 
 truth to our faith say, ' Comfort ye one another with 
 these words.' Founded on this basis, my soul is at 
 peace. Calm in the assurance that Goo is love, and 
 seeks to conduct us by chastisement as well as 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 107 
 
 mercy, to his gracious favor and to an eternal rest, 
 the gloomy prospect of life brightens for me, and 
 even the dark valley of the shadow of death is enlivened 
 by hope. i 
 
 It has not been indeed without many doubts, and 
 much anxiety, that my mind has become settled. I 
 have been fearful, that pa-l-tioular attachments strong 
 as mine, were inconsistent with a sincere love to God, 
 and therefore wrong; at the same time I felt they 
 were deeply seated in my breaSt, and that my happiness 
 was connected with their indulgence. But is not this 
 an erroneous view of the perfections of God ? Infinite 
 in love and goodness, he has made us to be happy, 
 and whatever contributes really to our happiness must 
 be pleasing to him. The virtue, tenderness and good- 
 ness which excite sincere friendship', are his image in 
 the soul, and therefore to love the creature is to love 
 the adorable Creator. It is only a false love for the 
 World, its honors and pleasures — it is only such an 
 attachment to the creature as corrupts, instead of cher- 
 ishing our virtuous feelings, that his holy eye con- 
 demns. Or when virtuous affection fixes too fondly 
 on its object, where it becomes so immoderate as to 
 destroy our peace, or to make this life a place of re- 
 ward, instead of probation, and induces us to say with 
 the disciples,. 'It is good for us to be here;' then a 
 gracious Parent pities the weakness of his children; 
 then by his merciful correction he leads them back to 
 duty, and reminds them that they are to ',live by faith ;' 
 faith in his goodness and wisdom; faith in his power 
 and truth, who has promised a blessed and eternal 
 inheritance beyond the grave. Yes, I feel that such 
 views exalt and purify the soul, and fix it more firmly 
 in the Divine faith and love. They bind it to God, thus 
 
108 MEMOIR OF 
 
 infinite in goodness; tliey endear to it the gracious 
 Redeemer, who by his sufferings and death has pur- 
 chased for us eternal life, and opened the prospect of 
 that full perfection of Being which alone sheds con- 
 solation on this vale of tears. O, if I could always 
 have these bright views, how could I enjoy the world, 
 and yet live above it ; with what resignation and cheer- 
 fulness would I pass through my pilgrimage, be it 
 long or short. 
 
 My dear sister, your affectionate brother, 
 
 J. H. HOBART.' 
 
 Whatever may be thought of the romantic 
 fervor of this attachment, none can deny that 
 it called forth emotions in the heart of the 
 survivor, that made it to him a noble and pure 
 discipline ; nor would it be easy to find either 
 in old or young, such emotions expressed with 
 more truth and beauty. Two further letters 
 remain to complete this interesting but painful 
 picture ; they are from the widowed and all 
 but childless mother. 
 
 ■ Augusta, August 30/A, 1797. 
 It is to the beloved friend of my dear departed 
 Robert that I now address myself It is in answer to 
 an affectionate and consoling letter, dated September 
 25th, and also to -apologize for not replying to one of 
 a former date, which was received with a melancholy 
 but affectionate satisfaction. Your known goodness 
 and sympathy of heart will I knbw excuse me for this 
 omission, when I assure you it was from a desire of 
 saving you pain as well as myself. It is not for me 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 109 
 
 to judge what is right in the sight of our Heavenly 
 Father, and I do not pretend to say but that I have 
 suffered and still feel my loss, as an affectionate mother 
 and frail mortal. But so far as my strength of faith is 
 that he is happy, and that through the sufferings of 
 our dear Redeemer we shall be made pure and fit for 
 immortal bliss, and in God's good time be called to 
 join his happy spirit, I am comforted and supported. 
 That he has paid the debt of nature we must all dis- 
 charge, before we can be admitted into the presence of 
 a good and gracious God, and that at no time he would 
 have been better able to give an account of the talents 
 committed to his care than at the hour it was God's 
 blessed will to call him, and that I know and believe 
 he had acted his part as a true believer ; — when I think 
 on all this, I am almost ready to cry out with acclama- 
 tions of joy, thanksgiving, and praise, to the great and 
 glorious LoHD of all, that he has been pleased to take 
 him to himself. When I consider the change for his 
 good, I am perfectly resigned ; and I wait with anxious 
 solicitude God's appointed time, when I shall be per- 
 mitted to join the happy spirits of my dear departed 
 friends. Do not, my dear Hobart, believe that I would 
 do any thing or omit a duty toward preserving a life 
 that I consider as the gift of our Heavenly Father ; no, 
 believe me, it is foreign from the idea I have of sub- 
 mission to the decrees of the Supreme Ruler of the 
 universe. My life is preserved for some wise purpose, 
 I have no doubt, and when that purpose is fulfilled, 
 I shall I trust be made a fit partaker of the heavenly 
 feast. O how happy, how superlatively happy I shall 
 be ; and that you, my good and amiable Hobart, be 
 permitted a seat in God's most holy and happy abode, 
 to join in hymns of praise to his glory, honor, and 
 
 10 
 
110 MEMOIR OF 
 
 majesty, for ever and ever, is the ardent prayer of your 
 dear departed Robert's affectionate mother. Let me 
 now, my friend, address you on the subject of my 
 surviving and beloved son, my dear Johnny. You 
 tell me he is well, and that he has undergone an 
 excellent examination. This to a mother, whose sole 
 hope he is, was very pleasing information ; and although 
 my anxiety to see him surpasses expression, I will 
 as you request, and as I had myself determined before I 
 got your letter, deny myself the pleasure and happi- 
 ness of his society fot this winter ; but in the ensuing 
 slimmer, if I am so permitted by the wise decrees of 
 Almighty goodness, I promise myself the favor of his 
 and your society for a short time, for I do not intend 
 to interrupt his studies. Your beloved Robert was 
 bom 3d April, 1780, and departed this life 26th July, 
 1797 : for the particulars of his death I must refer you 
 to Mr. Noel ; the revival of it creates in my breast 
 inexpressible sensations, which my duty compels me 
 if possible to suppress. He is gone, my beloved darling 
 Robert is gone to everlasting peace and rest. Cherish, 
 my Hobart, an affection for his family, and they will, 
 I hope, endeavor to merit it. Mrs. Armstrong, a 
 beloved sister, joins me in affectionate wishes for your 
 health and happiness. Please tender my respects to 
 your amiable mamma, and sister, and embrace with 
 affection for me, little Robert (Smith.) I need not 
 assure you, my Hobart, it will always afford me the 
 highest satisfaction to hear from you. My heart in- 
 clines to love you like my Robert. 
 
 Your sincerely affectionate 
 
 Fanny Forsyth.' 
 
BISHOP HOBART. Ill 
 
 'Augusta, January XZth, 1798. 
 Dear Hobart, 
 
 I often call to mind the evening you were with 
 my beloved Robert in my room at Princeton, and 
 think it was too much happiness for a mortal long 
 to enjoy, to behold a son who was all a fond mother 
 coul^ wish, embraced by an amiable and , beloved 
 friend. O, my Hobart, what would such a sight, now 
 afford me ; but alas ! vain thought : it is as impossible 
 as the desire is inconsistent with the true principles 
 of a Christian. No, let me not look for such happiness 
 again in a state of mortality, but rather let me expect 
 from an endless eternity that reward our dear Redeemer 
 has so wonderfully and bountifully purchased for us. 
 O, my friend, the struggles of a mother's heart are not 
 yet subdued. I would not, however, have you think, 
 that they proceed from murmuring against the decrees 
 of Providence ; no, far from it ; it is the struggles of 
 nature for a darling son ; not that depression of grief 
 I have heard some express,' but an animated desire to 
 be with him in a state of true happiness. I feel the 
 necessity of a humble, patient submission to Almighty 
 greatness and goodness, and acknowledge whatever 
 He decrees ; though not permitted to know from what 
 motive, yet whatever that decree is, it must be right. 
 Under this impression, and a steadfast hope and trust 
 in God's mercy, I look forward for the glorious reward 
 through our blessed andsuffering Saviour in the realms 
 of everlasting happiness, there to join the spirits divine ' 
 in singing hymns of praise to his adored name for 
 ever, amen. This is the third time I have attempted 
 to write you since the receipt of your last, and this 
 is so blotted that I fear you will not be able to make 
 sense out of it. My spirits are much cheered with the 
 
lis MEMOIR OF 
 
 favorable account you give me of my only darling son 
 John; I hope he may continue to give satisfaction, 
 and merit the approbation of the worthy : he is dear 
 to me, doubly so now. You will oblige me by sending 
 a copy of the inscription you had engraved on the 
 tomb-stone; I shall read it with a melancholy but 
 pleasing satisfaction. Farewell, my friend ; may you 
 be happy, is the sincere wish of your departed Robert's 
 affectionate mother. 
 
 Fanny Forsyth.' 
 
 The monumental mscription here alluded to 
 is not found among the papers of Bishop Hobart, 
 but the following obituary notice from the same 
 pen is preserved, as published in the New- York 
 Minerva. It is worthy of insertion as a fair 
 specimen of youthful talent, and still more 
 worthy of record as showing that his Christian 
 admonitions had not been fruitless. 
 
 ' Died, — On the 26th July, at Savannah, in the 18th 
 year of his age, Mr. Robert M. Forsyth, eldest son 
 of the late Major Forsyth, marshal of the State of 
 Georgia. 
 
 In this amiable young man were centered, in an 
 eminent degree, those talents and virtues that excite 
 respect and affection. A genius aspiring, correct, and 
 capacious, was united with a heart, feeling, affisctionate 
 and benevolent. 
 
 Deprived, when only fourteen, by a particular act 
 of Providence, of a beloved father, he rose to the trying 
 duties of his situation, and his most ardent wish was 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 113 
 
 to pour consolation into the bosom of a widowed 
 parent, and to watch with paternal solicitude over a 
 young and only brother.' Under the influence of these 
 motives, he left home soon after the decease of his 
 father, and commenced his studies at the college at 
 Princeton. Here his youthful mind, opening with 
 delight to instruction, comprehended even the highest 
 and most abstruse principles of science with unusual 
 ease and accuracy. His talent for an eloquence that 
 at once roused and melted the heart, was displayed 
 on many public exhibitions at the college; but the most 
 lively tribute was paid to its excellence by the tears 
 and sympathy of a numerous audience on his pro- 
 nouncing the valedictory oration at the last Com- 
 mencement. 
 
 Noble and generous in his^sentiments, ardent and 
 faithful in his attachments, manly and graceful in his 
 deportment, with a countenance that speaking J;he 
 energies of his soul beamed with intelligence and 
 feeling, he was admired and beloved by all who knew 
 him. His soul was exalted by the exercises and hopes 
 of religion. He embraced the glorious truths of the 
 Gospel with a lively and rational faith, and made them 
 his trust and his joy. 
 
 Thus in the prospect of discharging the duties of life 
 with zeal and credit, and becoming an ornament to 
 society, he was torn by an untimely death from the 
 bosom of friendship. That Being who placed him in 
 this state of trial, has in infinite wisdom closed his 
 short pilgrimage and received him to a rest eternal in 
 the heavens. 
 
 J. H. H.' 
 10* 
 
114 MEMOIR OF 
 
 The only other letter that appears from this 
 disconsolate mother, is of a date near two years 
 after. It thus concludes : 
 
 ' I thank you for the spectacles ; they will be in 
 demand this winter; my eyes begin to grow too weak 
 to read much at night, but with their assistance I hope 
 to be much edified by the perusal of some pious authors 
 which I have left me as the legacy of a beloved son. 
 They will be read with the more attention, knowing 
 them to be what he greatly valued. John informs me 
 you have removed from Mr. Smith's: I hope it will 
 be productive of as much happiness to you as the 
 uncertain things of this world will admit; for real 
 happiness is not to be found on this side the grave, 
 and they are unwise who expect it. Believe me, my 
 dear Hobart, with great sincerity, your affectionate 
 friend. Fanny Forsyth.' 
 
 It is consolatory to learn that the younger 
 son thus left solitary, as he succeeded to the 
 virtues, so also did he to the affections of his 
 brother in the heart of his friend, though dif- 
 ference of age gave it more of a paternal 
 character. If we may judge from the following, 
 however, his virtues were not without a tinge 
 of indolence, although for the specific instance 
 he might plead an elder brother's example. 
 
 ' Princeton, Thursday Evening. 
 My dear Hobart, 
 
 Our friend Mercer when he left this, engaged to 
 ask you in my name to write an oration for the night 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 115 
 
 before Commencement. The presence of my dearest 
 mother, and the time I was called from my studies 
 on that account, prevented me from preparing as well 
 as I could wish, and as the examination fast approaches 
 I would like to have my oration as soon as possible. 
 If you determine to write me one, and if you can 
 possibly make it convenient, I wish you would send it 
 up next week. If you have not time to write one, you 
 will gratify me by writing up immediately and recom- 
 mending me to one which you think will suit. If it 
 were not my own fault I would scold you for not 
 writing me often, but as it is owing to my own care- 
 lessness I cannot complain. I however promise to 
 write frequently, provided you will set me the example. 
 Nothing, believe me, gives me more pleasure than to 
 read your letters, and the good advice contained in 
 them. You, my dear Hobart, know my disposition, 
 and must therefore make allowance for my careless- 
 ness. Adieu, my dear Hobart, I shall expect to see 
 you here this Commencement. 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 John Fohsyth.'. 
 
 But although the writer on this occasion 
 forgot his Commencement speech, he never 
 forgot his early friend. Years after, amid the 
 turmoil of public life, the Hon. John Forsyth 
 thus writes from Washington in answer to a 
 letter of Bishop Hobart's : ' It is now, I believe, 
 near ten years since I heard from you, although 
 during that period I have been fortunate enough 
 to hear much of you. The sight of your hand- 
 
116 MEMOIR OF 
 
 writing excited in me a variety of emotions, 
 among the strongest of which was gratitude 
 for the kindness I had received from you in 
 early life.' Of another early friend who had in 
 some degree supplied to young Hobart his 
 brother's loss, the same letter gives this spirited 
 picture : ' I saw Mercer on my way to the 
 city of Washington ; he is in excellent health 
 and spirits, full of life and hope and generous 
 ambition.' 
 
 But it is due to young Hobart, by the inser- 
 tion of some other parts of his youthful cor- 
 respondence, to show that no romantic friendship 
 made him forgetful of nearer objects of affection, 
 and the more serious duties of life. 
 
 ' Frankfort, lOth July, 1794. 
 
 My dear John will be pleased to hear we are all 
 well here. I always thought this a delightful place, 
 but find it beyond comparison more agreeable than 
 ever. Mr. Smith seems happy to see every one pleased, 
 and I am sure I have every reason to be satisfied with 
 my situation. It gives me much pleasure to find you 
 also are so agreeably situated with regard to your 
 studies, but wish you in your attention to them to 
 have regard to your health, by using proper exercise 
 and relaxation, and not to deny yourself any reasonable 
 and necessary refreshment that may be convenient. 
 
 I have no doubt of your economy or the prudence 
 of your conduct in every respect, and shall therefore 
 with willingness for what depends on me, exert myself 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 117 
 
 to contribute as far as in my power to your improve- 
 ment. The children grow charmingly; little Anna 
 particularly is very sweet and lovely — sweeter than 
 you can conceive. Robert would be so too, if he would 
 let one love him. Mr. S. and your sister join in love 
 to you, with, my dear John, 
 
 Your affectionate mother, 
 
 H. HOBART.' 
 
 The call upon the militia to march against 
 the western insurgents in what was then fa- 
 miliarly known as the whiskey rebellion, became 
 soon after this a new source of anxiety to his mo- 
 ther. Her son-in-law had gone forth, her eldest 
 son was called upon, and she feared for her 
 youngest, the ' Benjamin' of her declining age. 
 
 ' Philadelphia, 15th September, 1794. 
 My mind is so agitated that I can scarce compose 
 myself enough to write a line to my dear John, to tell 
 you I want greatly to hear from you. I expect you 
 are much engaged, and therefore would not wish you 
 to take more time than for a few lines to inform me 
 how you are, and whether there is any danger of you 
 or any of the students of the college at Princeton being 
 called out on military duty. Our city at this time 
 seems to me to exhibit entirely a scene of confusion ; 
 the noise of drums and fifes almost incessantly sounding 
 in one's ears, and the numbers in military array con- 
 tinually passing in every direction, excites in me no 
 very pleasing reflections. Mr. Smith goes out to the 
 camp with the horse on Wednesday. Your sister has 
 
118 MEMOIROF 
 
 been much distressed; but Mr. S. encourages her to 
 hope that they will not have to go far, but that the 
 insurgents will submit when they find a force coming 
 against them. This hope at present keeps up her 
 spirits in a degree, but I fear it will prove a fallacious 
 opinion. I am entirely uncertain whether your brother 
 goes or not; when he was with us at Frankfort, he said 
 he would not go. I am so terrified when I think he 
 may be persuaded to think he ought or may be obliged 
 to go, that I dare not allow myself to dwell on the 
 idea. With respect to you, my dear John, I hope I 
 need not be apprehensive that you will be called on. 
 You may be sure nothing could induce me to let you 
 go. Let me know if there is any reason to be uneasy. 
 Your_aiFectionate 
 
 Hannah Hobart.' 
 
 'Princeton, September 21th, 1794. 
 I have been very uneasy, my dear mamma, at not 
 being able to write you sooner, but the business and 
 hurry of Commencement has prevented me. I wish 
 you would try and ease yourself of the anxiety you 
 feel, and that both you and sister would try and keep 
 up your spirits. It is indeed unfortunate that it became 
 necessary for Mr. Smith to leave his family and busi- 
 ness ; but as it is, so it is certainly our duty to submit. 
 I have no idea there will be any bloodshed. As soon 
 as the insurgents find there is a respectable force 
 collected against them they will disperse. My dear 
 mamma need not be under the least apprehensions on 
 my account. The quota of militia required from this 
 State is very small, not above 2000; it will be com- 
 pleted without difficulty, chiefly by volunteers; and 
 even irthere were any difficulty, there is no danger 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 119 
 
 of my being called out, as I am not enrolled on the 
 militia of this State. Your apprehensions about the 
 fever I would also hope will prove unfounded. We 
 know how many false rumors are always circulating, 
 and when this is the case, we think much of appear- 
 auces which at other times would not be taken notice 
 of. It seems itaiprobable the fever should break out 
 at this late season, when the warm weather is entirely 
 past ; and even if it should, such precautions would be 
 used as would prevent its spreading : it would also 
 be more under the power of medicine. The cases you 
 mention were probably the common fall fever, which 
 the fears of people have magnified into a contagious 
 one. If however there is danger, I trust my dear 
 mamma will be as careful of herself as she is of me. 
 You seem on the contrary anxious for me, but indif- 
 ferent about yourself. It gives me great satisfaction 
 to hear you are well, and I hope that while you are 
 solicitous to keep me out^of danger, you will, if there 
 is any, avoid it yourself. 
 
 I feel much for dear sister ; she must be very uneasy 
 at the absence of Mr. Smith. I have not the least 
 doubt, however, but what the troops will return safely 
 in the course of a very short time. 
 
 I shall not misspend my time here. Indeed it has 
 passed very agreeably, independent of the improve- 
 ment I may have derived. I feel the greatest attach- 
 ment for a sweet youth here, Forsyth from Georgia. 
 His presence makes amends for the absence of Skinner, 
 whom I have not seen as I expected at the Commence- 
 ment. My attachments are few, but they are very 
 warm, and I often think I should be thankful that I 
 enjoy as I do in the highest degree the pleasures of 
 friendship. When my dear mamma sees and knows 
 
120 MEMOIR OF 
 
 my two friends, she will not wonder that I love them. 
 Give a great deal of love to sister. Kiss the dear 
 children for me. I long to see the saucy Robert, and 
 the sweet little Anna. You must be with sister as 
 much as possible. 
 With much affection, yours, &c. 
 
 John H. Hobart.' 
 
 ' Princeton. 
 I have not written for this some time to my dear 
 mamma, but do not think of her the less often. Indeed 
 my happiness and means of improvement here con- 
 tinually remind me of you ; for to you I am indebted 
 for them all. I am not in immediate want of money, 
 but whenever you can make it convenient to send me 
 some it will be acceptable ; but I beg you will not put 
 yourself to any inconvenience to do it. I should wish 
 to pay Mrs. Knox as much as possible in advance. 
 I feel myself under the greatest obligations to her. 
 She treats me with the affectionate tenderness of a 
 parent, and does every thing in her power that can 
 tend to my convenience or comfort. She is consider- 
 ably advanced in life, and from poor circumstances 
 obliged to work very hard for her living. The students 
 being all obliged to board in college, she has not a 
 prospect of making out well. I wish it were in my 
 power to make her situation every way easy and 
 comfortable, and I know my dear mamma will join 
 me in this wish. I have been thinking whether it 
 would not be best for me to learn French this winter. 
 I have more time now than I shall probably have at 
 any future period. I wish you would let me know 
 what you think best on this subject. Forsyth sends 
 his love. My dear mamma is not deceived in hia 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 121 
 
 amiable disposition, and I receive daily the strongest 
 proofs of his affection. Expecting to hear from you 
 soon, I am your sincercely affectionate, 
 
 John H. Hobaht.' 
 
 As the next letter that appears says nothing 
 further of military dangers, it may be presumed 
 the mother's fears were quieted on that score. 
 His health however was still a subject of restless 
 inquiry. 
 
 ' Philadelphia, 22d December, 1794. 
 Your two letters, my dear John, were very accepta- 
 ble, and it gives me great pleasure to find your situation 
 so agreeable, with a prospect also of its beihg so advan- 
 tageous with respect to your improvement. I miss 
 you exceedingly, but the reflection and the hope that 
 you will profit by it reconciles me to the separation ; 
 and you may be assured I am much more happy with 
 such prospects in view, than I should be if you were 
 with me, and without them. But, my dear John, 
 mental advantages are not all that are to be considered, 
 you should also have regard to your health, for without 
 health there can be no enjoyment. Do not neglect to 
 pay proper attention to that, and spare nothing that 
 will contribute to preserve it : and if any thing should 
 at any time ail you, do not neglect to attend to it in 
 time. It certainly would be my wish to have you 
 with me if your improvement would be promoted by 
 it ; but when that cannot be, I must and do endeavor 
 to reconcile myself to the separation with cheerfulness, 
 and I am the better enabled to do this, when I re- 
 member that you have, in addition to the other advan- 
 11 
 
122 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 tages of your situation, the (I may say) maternal care 
 and kindness of the worthy Mrs. Knox : indeed I feel 
 great regard for her on account of her attention to you, 
 and wish with you that her situation was more suited to 
 her merits. As I would in every instance do all I can to 
 promote my dear John's advantage, I have no objection 
 to your learning French, if it will not interfere with 
 your other studies ; but will it not interrupt and divide 
 your attention or oppress your mind by having too 
 much to attend to ? I mention this as what occurred 
 to me. On considering it you will be better able to 
 judge than I am ; and if you conclude it best to engage 
 in it now, and the teacher is a good one, you have my 
 consent. Remember me to your friend Forsyth. I 
 feel attached to him for his affection to you, as well 
 as for his amiable disposition and goodness of heart. 
 You may be assured, my dear John, you have con- 
 tinually the best wish and prayers of your affectionate 
 mother, 
 
 H. HOBABT.' 
 
 ' Tuesday, Mth March, 1795. 
 
 I wished to have written to you, my dear John, 
 immediately on the receipt of your last, enclosing the 
 five dollar note. I am sorry you sent it, because though 
 you might do without it then, I know you cannot long, 
 and I now return it lo you. I wished to have added 
 to it, but cannot spare any now; don't be uneasy 
 about it, for I am not without. I have an entire con- 
 fidence in my dear John's assurances of frugality and 
 economy, but do not wish you to deny yourself any 
 thing that is necessary for your comfort or convenience. 
 The sentiments of affectionate gratitude and duty con- 
 tained in your letter could not but afford me much 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 123 
 
 pleasure. My dear children's happiness has always 
 been my first wish, and to know that they merit and 
 enjoy happiness my highest . gratification. I flatter 
 myself, ray dear John, that the advantages you have 
 in your present situation will contribute mucK to pro- 
 mote yours, and to continue them to you, nothing in 
 my power shall be wanting, you may be assured. You 
 have not told me lately how your health is ; do let me 
 know candidly: I hope in your attention to your 
 studies, you have a regard to that ; as in my opinion 
 it is one of our first duties to endeavor to preserve 
 health. I think you have got a habit of stooping, par- 
 ticularly when reading or writing, I would wish you 
 to avoid it as much as you can; any posture that 
 occasions a pressure on the breast must be hurtful. 
 That you may be preserved from every danger, is the 
 prayer of, my dear John, your affectionate mother, 
 
 H. HOBART.' 
 
 The following letter would indicate his return 
 home previous to its date : 
 
 • Princeton, September 5th, 1795. 
 Friend Hobart, 
 
 Perhaps you have been made aware that Mr. 
 English has for some time entertained thoughts of re- 
 signing the office he at present holds. He has declared 
 his intention to this efiect to Dr. Smith. Dr. S. has 
 requested me to write to you, to know whether you 
 would be willing to occupy his place. If so, an inti- 
 mation of it as soon as possible will give him satis- 
 faction. You are as well acquainted with the situation 
 aud the business, as you could be from having been 
 only an observer. The advantages of it are by no 
 
124 MEMOIROP 
 
 means small, and you know my thoughts as to its 
 inconveniences. In short, feelings are often concerned, 
 but sooner or later this must be the case in life ; and 
 when we begin early to deal with others, we have the 
 advantage of a gradual experience in coming into the 
 world. But I need not tell you all this. 
 
 Yours, &c. Joseph Caldwell.' 
 
 ' Philadelphia, 12th October, 1795. 
 I have received my dear John's letter of the 5th 
 instant, but have been so engaged as not to have it in 
 my power to answer it until now. When with me at 
 Frankfort, you seemed so certain it would be a great 
 advantage to you in your studies to be in the office 
 which Mr. E. then proposed to resign, that I was per- 
 fectly satisfied you should accept of it ; but as he now 
 wishes to retain it, you cannot do otherwise with pro- 
 priety than relinquish your intentions of accepting it. 
 It will to be sure disappoint some of the plans you 
 had laid down ; but I hope it will not be necessary on 
 that account to give up your residence at Princeton. 
 My dear John may be assured that nothing which 
 depends upon me shall be withheld that may contribute 
 to promote his improvement, as I shall, if necessary, 
 submit to any temporary inconvenience myself, to 
 insure a permanent advantage to you. I therefore 
 wish you to be perfectly easy, and that you should 
 adopt and pursue that plan which you feel convinced 
 will most promote your happiness and advantage. 
 Your desire, my dear John, to be with me, cannot be 
 stronger than mine to have you, if it could be equally 
 advantageous to you; but the consideration that it 
 cannot, has influenced me to the separation ; but Hook 
 forward with hope that the time is approaching, though 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 125 
 
 at a distance, when I shall be happy in your company, 
 without the necessity of another separation. Providence 
 I trust will provide for you, and indulge my anxious 
 wishes to see my beloved child comfortably settled, 
 where I can witness his happiness. ***** 
 
 I have much satisfaction indeed, my dear John, 
 in finding that your mind is in such a composed frame. 
 Your distress has been great, I know, and I have felt 
 much for you ; but it is a comfort to me to find you are 
 now so resigned, and I hope you will more and more 
 experience the goodness of your Heavenly Father in 
 all his dispensations, and be enabled cheerfully to submit 
 to his will. I shall be pleased to see the letters you 
 mention when you have an opportunity. In answer 
 to your proposal of a visit to the family of your late 
 friend at New- York, I doubt not they will be much 
 pleased to see you, and I am convinced it will give 
 you great satisfaction to make the visit. I cannot 
 therefore be unwilling you should take the journey, 
 but would wish you to do it before the season is much 
 further advanced. It is a long way to travel in cold 
 or bad weather, and so much water to pass, which I 
 believe is frequently dangerous, that I shall be relieved 
 from some anxiety when I know you are safe over it. 
 You will inform me when you propose to go, and when 
 you return. You have the best wishes and tenderest 
 affection of yours, 
 
 H. HOBAHT. 
 
 N. B. I do not forget your friend Forsyth, though 
 I do not always mention him ; tell him so.' 
 
 Ill the course of this winter he seems to have 
 accepted, though amid many doubts, of the situa- 
 tion of college tutor. 
 11* 
 
126 MEMOIR OP 
 
 Prom the cheerful tone of the following letter, 
 we may judge that he had made a right deci- 
 sion : the ability to proffer aid to a mother 
 who had straitened her own for his comforts,, 
 proving, to such a spirit as his, a sufficient reward 
 for many labors. 
 
 ' Princeton, March 12th, 1796. 
 I am as anxious to hear from my dear mamma, as I 
 suppose you are from me. It is some time since I have 
 written, as my engagements for these two weeks past 
 have been considerably increased. Dr. Minto, the pro- 
 fessor of mathematics, has been unwell all winter ; his 
 duty hitherto has been performed by Mr. Caldwell, 
 but has now devolved upon me. I have thus two 
 classes to attend, one of which is studying the mathe- 
 matics, so that you see I am quite the man of business. 
 My college duties take up at present nearly the whole 
 of my time, but they are all highly necessary and 
 improving. I should wish to attend to them, and 
 perhaps the present is the most proper time for that 
 purpose. In the course of the summer, I hope to have 
 made such proficiency in them as to be able to attend 
 more immediately to divinity, though there is no part 
 of my duty which is not improving, and no knowledge 
 derived from it which I would not wish to gain. How 
 glad I am I did not yield to the solicitations of old Dr. 
 Smith,* and engage in his place. I should then have 
 lost means of improvement which I should never have 
 thought of without pain. This place has been, to use 
 a common phrase, the making of me. I mean, what- 
 
 ♦ The Rev. Dr. Smith of Philadelphia. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 127 
 
 ever knowledge or ideas of improvement I now have, 
 I have got here, and I have no fear that my oppor- 
 tunities of improvement will diminish. I enjoy my 
 health perfectly, and take more exercise than I did in 
 the former part of the winter. I am in no want of 
 money ; I hav.e received some from the treasurer. 
 If Job Hughes has not paid you, and you are in want 
 of money, let me know and I will send you some. 
 I have not time to add more, but to send my love to 
 all friends, and to offer my sincere prayers for the 
 health and happiness of my dear mamma. 
 Your affectionate 
 
 John H. Hobart.' 
 
 ' Princeton, May 3, 1796. 
 My dear mamma will be pleased to hear of my safe 
 arrival. My journey was tolerably pleasant, not so 
 much so as it would have been with warmer weather. 
 I found every thing in my trunk in good order. 
 The ginger-bread was very acceptable in itself, but 
 doubly so as a proof of your solicitude for me even in 
 trifles. I wish I could give some stronger expression 
 of my feelings, when I reflect on your tender and con- 
 stant anxiety for me, than mere words. But I trust 
 Providence will give you that reward which I cannot. 
 I found my room-mates in good health and pleased to 
 see me. It gratifies me to receive from all with whom 
 I am here connected, proofs of their esteem for me, 
 and from some, of more than esteem. I know no 
 greater happiness than that of being beloved, especially 
 by those who are the objects of one's affection ; and 
 here in the college, where the selfish principles of the 
 world are I may say unknown, there is nothing to 
 control the feelings of sincere affection. I am hardly 
 
128 MEMOIROF 
 
 yet fixed lo study; to-morrow I expect to begin in 
 earnest, and to enjoy my usual happiness when thus 
 engaged; and when my dear mamma knows that I 
 am happy, I hope she will be so too. That this may 
 always be the case, is the prayer of her sincerely 
 affectionate son, 
 
 John H. Hobabt.' 
 
 'May 3d, 1796, Tuesday. 
 
 I had just sat down to write to you, my dear John, 
 when I received your welcome letter. It gives me 
 much pleasure to hear you got safe up, and were so 
 affectionately received by your friends and companions; 
 and you may be assured, the sentiments of gratitude 
 and affection to me expressed in your letter, are exceed- 
 ing gratifying as I linow they are sincere. To have 
 my children's affection, and to be certain they deserve 
 mine, and are happy, affords me the highest enjoy- 
 ment when separated from them. 
 
 That you, my dear John, may continue to experience 
 the peculiar favor of a kind Providence, (and I know 
 you will not be unthankful for it,) is the sincere prayer 
 of your ever affectionate mother, 
 
 H. HOBART.' 
 
 The warm attachment of his associates here 
 alluded to appears in a joint letter about this 
 date from two of his friends. Burnet, the one 
 who concludes it, says, 'your good friend, whose 
 hand you will here recognise with pleasure, has 
 just left me. While here, he accidentally saw 
 your little trunk in one corner of the room, and 
 
BISHOP HOB ART. 129 
 
 actually manifested as much joy at the sight of 
 it as if it had been an old friend.' 
 
 The following letter is from young Robertson, 
 the same from whose pen a sketch has already 
 been given. 
 
 ' Philadelphia, April 1th, 1796. 
 My dear John, 
 
 It was with much pleasure I received your letter 
 yesterday, after so long a silence. I have been expect- 
 ing one for some time, , and I need not tell you how 
 much it would have gratified me, but I have felt con- 
 fident it was to your engagements only I owed my 
 disappointment. 
 
 It was to be expected that your present station would 
 require much of your attention, and proper that it should ; 
 but when by it, together with your own studies, your 
 whole time is engrossed, it cannot be very agreeable,- 
 and to be obliged in some degree to neglect your friends 
 not the least unpleasant circumstance with which it is 
 attended. I sincerely wish some alteration may take 
 place, not only because I may then expect to be fa- 
 vored oftener with your letters, but because I think it 
 would be more for your happiness. I have often 
 intended writing since I last saw you, and I know you 
 will believe me when I say it was not your ^silence 
 that prevented me. The debates in Congress have 
 lately been very interesting. While the eloquence and 
 abilities displayed on this occasion, reflect as you 
 observe, honor on the minority; the late decision is 
 little to the credit of the house. There has not been a 
 subject* before Congress since the establishment of the 
 
 * Mr. Jay's treaty with Great Britain. 
 
130 MEMOIR OP 
 
 government, in which one party has had so decidedly 
 the advantage ; but with men who had made up their 
 minds to resist conviction, it would be vain to expect 
 that reasoning, however irresistible, would have any 
 effect. No doubt a nnmber of the majority gave their 
 vote from a mistaken j udgment ; but it is no breach of 
 -charity to say that a Baldwin and a Madison have not 
 that apology. The conduct of the President on this 
 as former occasions, must meet the approbation of 
 every good man, and shows clearly that nothing but the 
 dictates of conscience influence him. His message was 
 yesterday taken into consideration, and the business 
 began by a lengthy speech from Mr. Madison, the 
 substance of which was, the reasons assigned by the 
 President for refusing the papers were not sufficient, 
 nor his construction of the constitution just. He 
 however admitted that the President had a right to 
 refuse the papers. It is the wish of that party now, 
 and I suppose they will succeed, to have their opinions 
 relative to the treaty-making power inserted on the 
 journals of the house. This appears by a resolution 
 now on the table, and is in substance the same with 
 one laid on the table a few days ago by Mr. Kitchell, 
 which I suppose you have seen. 
 
 I am affectionately yours, 
 
 J. Robertson.' 
 
 If the excitement of politics could arouse tlie 
 quiet merchant, no wonder that the more excite- 
 able student caught the infection, and taking 
 advantage of some interval of duty or some 
 friendly aid, he hurried up to town to enjoy the 
 feast of eloquence of which he heard so much, 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 131 
 
 His visit was happily timed ; he found himself 
 in the House of Representatives on the twenty- 
 fourth of the same month, when Fisher Ames 
 delivered his memorable speech on the subject 
 of the British treaty. The impression made upon 
 the rriind of a hearer, ardent as the speaker 
 himself, may be judged of from the fact of his 
 sitting down on retiring from the House, and 
 putting on paper his vivid recollections of that 
 burst of impassioned eloquence. This proof of 
 sensibility and talent is preserved among his 
 papers, endorsed as follows : ' Sketch of Mr. 
 Ames's speech on the subject of the British 
 treaty in the House of Representatives, taken 
 from memory, 1796.' It closes thus: 'Mr. 
 Ames in conclusion observed, that enfeebled as 
 he was by disease, vacant as his mind then 
 was of ideas, and deprived as he felt he was of 
 the power of collecting them, he expected to 
 have given a silent vote, and supposed that any 
 desire he might have of speaking was controlled 
 by a commanding necessity ; but when he ad- 
 vanced to the precipice of that abyss, which if 
 not fathomless was yet inexplorable, he felt 
 desirous to protract, if it were only for half an 
 hour, a decision which was to plunge them all 
 into it. Personally he felt little interested in 
 the event of the vote ; his hold of life would 
 probably not last till the fatal disasters of the 
 
132 MEMOIR DP 
 
 rejection of the treaty would come upon his 
 country. But he felt for posterity, and for them 
 he spoke.' 
 
 In the autumn of this year, (1796,) Mr. 
 Hobart's health was seriously threatened ; the 
 cause seems to have been rather mental than 
 bodily. A despondency which whether the 
 result of highly excited feelings, or what is 
 more probable, of over wrought faculties in the 
 double task of teacher and student, awakened 
 for a time in the minds of his friends, and 
 still more of his foreboding mother, the most 
 anxious solicitude. In this state he returned 
 home, where, however, relaxation and social 
 affections soon wrought their usual happy re- 
 sult. The following letter met him on his 
 return, from an old college friend, who had gone 
 before him in the labors of the ministry, though 
 in another church. 
 
 ' New -York, November 14th, 1796. 
 Dear Hobart, 
 
 It grieves me that I have been obliged to neglect so 
 long the answering of your affectionate letter. But 
 hear me. I attended punctually at the post-office till 
 the day I went to New- York, which must have been 
 the day your letter reached New Brunswick, I did 
 not receive it until a week after by the return of the 
 boat, and then it was on a bed of sickness, arid I now 
 devote my first composed moments to answer for my 
 apparent negligence, which must have been unaccounta- 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 133 
 
 ble to one in your situation. By this time I presume 
 you have returned to Princeton, and I earnestly pray 
 that it may be with a mind strengthened and composed, 
 and your malady overcome in a great measure — com- 
 plete recovery must be a work of time. Just now, 
 dear John, I may be but a poor adviser till made better 
 acquainted with the progress of your recovery. I long 
 to see and converse with you, and shall haste to pay 
 you a visit on my return to New-Brunswick, which 
 will be in a week or fortnight at farthest. Your 
 Robert has been with you to Philadelphia. I know he 
 has been attentive and affectionate, but I imagine he 
 has had to return before you to prepare for his office. 
 At such times you are apt to be anxious and melan- 
 choly ; this should not be, my dear Hobart. You have 
 sometimes told me, that in the depth of your distress 
 and debility of mind, when you have heard your 
 Robert praised, when you have seen his ease and 
 propriety of behavior in company, different you 
 thought from your own, you have often experienced 
 dark and envious feelings. Believe me, my dear friend, 
 I attribute this to the weak state of your body and 
 mind, for friendship -delights in the superior excellence 
 of its friend at the same time that it labors to become 
 equally excellent, and your noble soul is I know capa- 
 ble of the. purest friendship. When you can act your- 
 self, none have better talents to excel, none dispositions 
 more inclinable to virtue. You have uncommon 
 judgment and foresight in most things. When you 
 converse, there is an air of candor and sincerity, with 
 a firmness and becoming warmth in the support of 
 truth, which commands at once love and respect from 
 the discerning, and a mildness and benevolence of tem- 
 per, discoverable even on a short acquaintance, which 
 
 12 
 
134 MEMOIR OP 
 
 must attract universal regard. You have also a strength 
 of mind (notwithstanding its present weakness) which 
 displays itself in uncommon resolution and perseverance 
 in the pursuit of knowledge, and in the performance 
 of duty. Witness your government in the college 
 with a mixture of mildness and firmness which has 
 gained the affections of every worthy student. Did 
 I not know this was truth, and that you can bear it, 
 I would not dare to say so much to any person 
 concerning himself, but I know my John too well to 
 think that this will have any other than a good effect. 
 Shall I say why I have thus told you what I think of 
 you? It is to encourage — to exhort you. Your very 
 endeavors to be cheerful will counteract in a measure 
 the influence of melancholy thoughts. Whenever 
 therefore you find your spirits grow dull and feel 
 inclined to indulge anxious and foreboding thought, 
 do any thing, start up, walk, talk, by some means or 
 other divert your attention ; use every exertion, every 
 power of body and mind to counteract your malady, 
 and give not up to despairing thoughts ; and then I 
 hope, yea I have a strong confidence that your /Sod 
 will preserve you from going down to the pit, will 
 make you an honor and a blessing to the Church of 
 Christ and to society, and at last will receive you to 
 an inheritance incorruptible and that fadeth not away. 
 Trust then in God, and you shall yet praise him ; make 
 him the strength and chief confidence of your heart, 
 and he will be your portion for ever. My heart longs 
 for — it goes out to God in hearty wishes and prayers 
 for your recovery and prosperity, that you may be 
 enabled to exert all your abilities in the service of 
 God, and that you may experience the Joys and com- 
 forts of religion. I have a great deal to say ; my heart 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 135 
 
 is full whenever I am writing, thinking, or speaking 
 of you. ****** Dr. Minto is dead. Dear good man, 
 he has gone to the enjoyment of the saints in bliss. 
 What a loss to society ; to Nassau Hall it will be almost 
 irreparable. I have been revolving in my mind who 
 will supply his place, but can fix upon no one. I long 
 to be at Princeton, and will be there soon. I feel 
 interested in all the concerns of that place; I have 
 past I may say almost the happiest hours of my life 
 in it, but find it impracticable to reside there again. 
 The good Mr. Knox and Miss Sally, 1 hope, are well ; 
 they were my sincere friends, and I feel much grati- 
 tude to them for their kind, yes, tender usage of me. 
 Remember me with affection to them ; also to Cun- 
 ningham, Comfort, How, Mercer, Hughes and Watson, 
 my Meapleton friends when you see them, and all 
 whom I should not forget,' for my heart is big with 
 good wishes to all my Princeton friends, and you, "my 
 dear Hobart, next to my nearest connections possess 
 the first place in my affections. Believe me to be your 
 hearty well wisher, and rank among the tenderest of 
 your friends. Your 
 
 Ebenbzer Grant.' 
 
 On the same sheet, he thus writes to the 
 companion of his desponding friend : 
 
 ' My dear Robert, 
 
 Think not I have forgotten you, or that you are 
 last remembered by being addressed last, for indeed 
 you have a great share of my sincere regard. My 
 Robert, you are entering early on the stage of action ; 
 you have many and important trusts committed to 
 
136 MEMOIR OP 
 
 you, and you have abilities adequate to the discharge 
 of them. You have by this time probably entered on 
 the office of teaching others almost as soon as you 
 have ceased to be a Scholar yourself; this is a task 
 which will require much prudence and firmness, but 
 with exertion I feel confident you will succeed. Your 
 dear John, who has been in many instances as a guar- 
 dian angel, will be a wise counsellor to you. Love 
 him, my dear Robert, with all the affection you can 
 give. Soothe him in his melancholy, then I have no 
 doubt but that you will be great and happy together. 
 May the Lord bless and prosper you, ye true friends. 
 Think often on him who can subscribe himself, from 
 the bottom of his heart, your friend, 
 
 E. Grant.' 
 
 The promised visit to Princeton did not talie 
 place. On 10th December, this sympathizing 
 friend thus again writes : 
 
 ' New -Brunswick, lOth December, 1796. 
 Dear John, 
 
 You no doubt concluded from my letter that I 
 should have paid you a visit before this time, and this 
 has I trust been the reason why I have not received a 
 line from you. Monday, 28th, I had fixed upon for it, 
 but many causes have hitherto prevented me. In the 
 meantime I should be much pleased to receive from 
 you a favorable account of your health, both of body 
 and mind. For your comfort I cannot help but say, 
 that often after I have besought the Lord to have 
 mercy on myself and you, I have felt a kind of enthu- 
 siastic confidence that he would subdue your malady, 
 would recruit your strength, would raise you to honor 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 137 
 
 and usefulness in life, and to a seat at his right hand 
 for ever. Despair not then of his goodness, my dear 
 John ; his thoughts are not as our thoughts, nor his 
 ways as our ways. Our duty is submission of the 
 whole heart to the disposals of his providence. Afflic- 
 tions come not from the ground ; they are not unpro- 
 fitable to the children of God ; they are not more 
 • frequently evidences of his displeasure than they are 
 merciful visitations to lead us to unfeigned repentance 
 for sin, and to a closer walk with God. Write me, my 
 friend, of your arrangements for the present session ; 
 of your difficulties and your satisfactions : any thing 
 that concerns you interests me. How is your Robert 
 pleased with his situation, and how are you yourself 
 and the students pleased with him in the execution of 
 his office ? Does he begin to form a steady decided 
 character ? If so, he will meet my earnest hopes of 
 his one day becoming a great and good man. 
 
 My father grows very infirm, and his eyes are dan- 
 gerously aflfected . Should he lose his sight, all methods 
 of information will be taken from him. He says he 
 has tasted all the happiness this world can afford, and 
 longs to depart for another and a better. My mother 
 has taken a great liking to you only from description. 
 She joins me in wishing to see and converse with you. 
 Although our house, under the present circumstances 
 of our family, cannot furnish all the accommodation 
 I could wish for a friend ; yet you especially, or any 
 of my Princeton friends, may always expect to receive 
 a hearty welcome from yours, &c. 
 
 Eben. Gbant.' 
 
 It would be enlarging too much on the details 
 of early life, and perhaps on the feelings of living 
 12* 
 
136 MEMOIR OF 
 
 friends, to give more of this correspondence ; 
 suffice it to say, that young Hobart, while at- 
 tached to a chosen few, made himself a friend 
 to many, and was beloved by all. His heart 
 was ample as it was warm, and no individual 
 seems ever to have approached him, who either 
 needed sympathy or sought aid, without receiv- 
 ing one or both. On some, the impression for 
 good was permanent ; on others, no doubt tran- 
 sient ; all however speak of him in terms of 
 warm regard. ' Dear Hobart,' says one, of 
 whom a parting letter is incidentally preserved, 
 ' both Mr. Hughes and myself are under great 
 obligations to you. We would wish now and 
 always to feel them strongly, and to acknow- 
 ledge them. When I think how highly I was 
 honored and how much I was benefitted by 
 your friendship, I can scarcely restrain tears. 
 The language of another very youthful student 
 is too simple and heartfelt not to be given at 
 length. His affectionate gratitude gives a plea- 
 sing picture of the intercourse that subsisted 
 between them". They carry back the narrative 
 to an earlier date. 
 
 ' Princeton, November 6th, 1794. 
 My dear friend, 
 
 I awived here last evening from Brunswick, and 
 found Forsyth's patience in waiting for me almost 
 exhausted ; but upon hearing the reasons of my delay 
 
BISHOP HOBART, 139 
 
 he was fully satisfied. This day we took possession 
 by leave of Mr. Finley of our room. It is to be sure 
 not a very warm one for the winter ; but the idea of 
 your coming to live with us makes me much more 
 contented and satisfied than I would be in the best 
 room in the college without you. We have both I 
 trust set down with a full determination to apply 
 diligently to our studies, and by our conduct to make 
 ourselves worthy the esteem of the faculty, and more 
 particularly of yours, worthy friend. The salutary 
 advice you have and I doubt not will continue to give 
 me, I pray Heaven may not be thrown away, but 
 rather that I may employ it to the good of myself and 
 friend. Thanks be to that God who knows our hearts 
 and sees all our deeds, that I have been so happy in 
 gaining for myself so good, so amiable, and so generous 
 a friend to keep my erring feet in right paths, and to 
 lay a firm and lasting foundation for my temporal and 
 eternal happiness. You have always shown a par- 
 tiality for me, and I know not why even this. Your 
 regard for me while I was an entire stranger among 
 the students, and your very often repeated acts of 
 friendship toward me; these, independent of your 
 real merit of which I then had but a slight knowledge, 
 could not fail to enkindle in me the liveliest sparks of 
 true and genuine esteem. But why should I tell you 
 that I feel an attachment for you beyond what I can 
 express ; sure I have.told you that I esteem you my 
 best, my worthiest friend. I shall expect you, dear 
 friend, in a fortnight or three weeks at farthest ; the 
 sooner you come, the sooner you will give satisfaction 
 and pleasure to Forsyth and myself. I hoped when 
 I arrived from Philadelphia here, to have been happy 
 in acquainting you with your mother's good health 
 
140 MEMOIR OF 
 
 and friends, but when I came you had gone to Phila- 
 delphia. Praying that you may, as no doubt you will, 
 receive the reward of your excelling merit in this 
 world, and after this transitory existence be received 
 into the paradise above and receive the crown of glory 
 prepared for all who believe, I subscribe myself, 
 Your sincere and affectionate friend, 
 
 Joseph Warren Scott.' 
 
 N. B. Forsyth last night received your letter, but 
 no entreaties on my part could prevail on him to read 
 it to me. 
 
 ' Nassau Hall, Princeton, November Ibih, 1794. 
 My dear friend. 
 
 Yours of the 10th instant I received on Tuesday, 
 and enjoyed more satisfaction than I can express to 
 you in the perusal of it. Forsyth also received one 
 last evening, and read to me a clause from it which he 
 said was addressed to both of us. Though this inti- 
 mate correspondence aflfords a great deal of pleasure, 
 your immediate presence would give me more. Your 
 advice, my dear friend, I assure you, is always accepta- 
 ble, because I know it is always good. Yet I cannot 
 divine why you are so very urgent with us about 
 keeping the door shut. I am apprehensive you think 
 we have a great many intruders, and in this I wish to 
 undeceive you, because I know whatever we do right 
 gives you pleasure. At first the students came in great 
 numbers, and our refusing admittance to so many, 
 daily occasioned complaint against us ; but we per- 
 sisted in what you had taught us, and what we thought 
 of ourselves was right, and by so doing, at length freed 
 ourselves from a great many visiters that we did not 
 want. The conduct that I mentioned in my last I 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 141 
 
 meant to pursue toward the college in general, and 
 my fellow whigs in particular, (provided it met with 
 your approbation,) I mean still to maintain till I hear 
 otherwise from you. The return of Mr. Smith* I wait 
 with impatience ; I hope it will not be more than three 
 or four days, and that you will be here in a week at 
 farthest. It is hardly fair to tell tales, but to-day a 
 circumstance took pjace which I am sure will make 
 you smile. ******* 
 
 I must also complain a little on Robert (Forsyth) 
 about copying the old minutes. He has not written 
 a word until this, afternoon, but for the future I hope 
 he will do better; but you must not lash him too 
 severely, as I believe I am almost as much in fault as 
 he is, for not telling him more frequently of it. My 
 fingers are so cold that I can hardly write any more. 
 I remain, and wish ever to remain, your sincere and 
 affectionate friend, 
 
 Joseph Warren Scott.' 
 
 N. B. I shall expect a letter very shortly, and a 
 long one too. 
 
 ' Nassau Hall, PH/nceton, November llth. 
 My dear friend, 
 
 What melancholy tidings does this bear? It is 
 the death of our good and worthy president, (Dr. 
 Witherspoon.) On Saturday evening, in his chair, this 
 good old man met the last common enemy of man with 
 joy and cheerfulness. And why should he not? It 
 would set a final period to trouble and suffering, and 
 land him in that haven of eternal peace, where is the 
 
 * Mr. Hobart's brother-in-law, whose absence prevented his 
 return to college. 
 
142 MEMOIR OF 
 
 reward of his labors and fidelity to his Master's trust. 
 Full of days, and full of honors, this venerable sage 
 has left us to deplore his loss as a father and protector ; 
 but he has also left us an example truly worthy to be 
 imitated. To-morrow his body is to be committed to 
 the silent grave. Dr. Smith is, I believe, to pronounce a 
 funeral sermon; no doubt it will be a moving and feeling 
 discourse. My dear friend, I must really ask you why 
 you neglect to write to me. You know nothing gives 
 me more pleasure when I cannot see you. Why then 
 will you voluntarily rob me of so much happiness. 
 This is but a short letter, but it is almost prayer time, 
 and therefore I cannot continue it. I remain, my dear 
 Hobart, your friend, and to continue so. 
 
 Joseph Warren Scott.' 
 
 ' Nassau Hall, November 'H'lth, 1794. 
 My dear friend. 
 
 In what manner to apologize for my great neglect 
 in not writing to one who has ever shown toward me 
 kindness far beyond what I deserve, and to whom I 
 have every reason to believe my letters are always 
 acceptable, I know not ; especially as I regard you as 
 one for whom I ought, and I hope do feel a tie stronger 
 than that alone which worth can inspire. I feel proud 
 of such a friend, and at the same time am conscious 
 that it is, and no doubt will be, an honor to me in what- 
 ever station I am placed by Providence ; but I have 
 been expecting you daily, and therefore delayed till 
 the present time. Indeed I supposed that even if I 
 vi^ere not to write, that would be no hindrance to you ; 
 for you may well know, even if I do not write fre- 
 quently to you, (as I confess I have neglected to do,) 
 my thoughts are oftentimes employed with you, anti- 
 
BISHOP HOEART. 143 
 
 cipating the time when I shall see you again, and know 
 that you will live with me. Forsyth just now received 
 a letter from you. I read in his countenance marks 
 of pleasure which could not fail of producing the same 
 sensations in me, though arising from a different cause. 
 I received a letter a few days ago from Terhune ; he 
 expects that you will write him immediately, directing 
 your letters to Gravesend; but I must study at my 
 lesson, for that I cannot put off. Therefore, I bid you 
 good night, after subscribing myself, 
 Your sincere friend, 
 
 Joseph Warren Scott.' 
 
 P. S. I was just in Mr. Caldwell's room, and told 
 him I was going to write to you ; he requested me to 
 present his respects with the following message, viz. 
 ' If you are coming, be expeditious, or otherwise we 
 will not have a sufficient barrier against infidelity, 
 which is spreading its dominion far and wide.' This 
 stroke I apprehend is meant for me. He knows that 
 I have been reading Hume, and is frequently giving 
 me sharp strokes about my belief. I have said that 
 I thought reading the above-named author rendered a 
 person less bigotted : Caldwell from this supposes 
 that I believe aU tjiat is said by Hume. Mr. Pinley is 
 often questioning me about your coming, when it will 
 be ; he seems impatiently expecting it. 
 
 Your affectionate friend Warren.' 
 
 ' Nassau Hall, December 4. 
 My dear friend, 
 
 I just now received your inexplicable letter of the 
 3d instant, by Dickson. However, all your letter I 
 can understand better than that which relates to infi- 
 delity. I thought I might mention to you in trust, the 
 
144 MEMOIR OF 
 
 lecture I got from Caldwell on account of my reading 
 Hume, and the reason why I continued reading it, 
 because I thought it made me more candid in my 
 judgments. When you come I shall have a better 
 opportunity of showing you that I am in no way 
 related to infidelity, only not bigotted. That part of 
 your letter which relates to my studies I shall endea- 
 vor to profit from in future, though altogether to keep 
 my thoughts at home would be disagreeable to my 
 feelings. Forsyth and I live very agreeably now. 
 When you come we shall be happy ; to both of us you 
 are a safe resort when advice is required, and both 
 you have shown yourself willing to assist whenever 
 in your power. My dear friend, your presence I very 
 much wish for. Mr. Caldwell expresses a great desire 
 to see you ; he by this sends his respects to you. 
 Come, dear friend, your friends are impatiently ex- 
 pecting you. Write to me quickly if you do not come. 
 Adieu, my dear friend. 
 
 Joseph Warben Scott.' 
 
 P. S. I should be ashamed to let such a letter be 
 seen : then I request you only to read it. 
 
 The last letter from this warm-hearted youth 
 is from New-Brunswick, New-Jersey, though 
 without date, except ' Sunday Morning :' Its 
 N. B., without which he seems never to have 
 written, is in these words : 
 
 ' N. B. Show this letter to Forsyth ; tell him that 
 I very often think of him, and of the happy hours we 
 have spent together, and in vain wish them to return. 
 I shall once more lay claim to your correspondence, 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 145 
 
 though I see you have entirely forgotten me ; but, 
 Hobart, whatever has been my conduct, whatever my 
 appearance, be assured I never have suffered a diminu- 
 tion of that affection which you know I once cherished 
 for you. Tell Forsyth to write to me. Adieu. 
 
 J. W. Scott.' 
 
 On the superscription is added, 
 
 ' If Mr. Hobart is not at Princeton, Mr. E. M. Forsyth 
 is requested to take this and open it. 
 
 J. W. S.' 
 
 Similar feelings of attachment were excited 
 in the young class whose charge he undertook 
 after his return to college, while his own toward 
 them are suificiently marked in his careful pre- 
 servation of their parting address. 
 
 It begins in these words : — ' We cannot, sir, 
 see the time approaching when you are to leave 
 us, without testifying in strong terms our regret, 
 and the deep sense of gratitude impressed upon 
 us. We shall long remember that period of 
 youth spent under your care,' &c. 
 
 This affectionate farewell was found among 
 the Bishop's papers at his death. A heart like 
 his valued such records, and in his careful pre- 
 servation of them we read one of the peculiarly 
 attractive traits of his character. 'When he 
 became a man,' he put not away all childish 
 things. The warm and tender heart never left 
 13 
 
146 MEMOIR OF 
 
 him, and as relics he prized all its early re- 
 membrances. Indeed, throughout life he was 
 sensitive as a child to every mark of kind- 
 ness, while coldness or ingratitude seemed to 
 cut him to the heart. Amid all the bustle 
 of life, and the cares of a most busy station, 
 whatever addressed itself to his feelings was 
 instantly uppermost in look, word, and action : 
 the ' child' was awakened within him, and its 
 ready language of smiles and tears, and the 
 affectionate embrace proved how little change, 
 years, or the world, had wrought, upon his affec- 
 tionate, sensitive nature. 
 
 But this history of early friendship has led the 
 narrative beyond the date of events to which 
 it is necessary now to recur. The first ap- 
 pearance of the yellow fever in Philadelphia, 
 in 1793, dispersed, as already mentioned, not 
 only the inhabitants of the city, but the students 
 of Princeton, and left young Hobart not only 
 without his anticipated honors, but even without 
 a home. The consternation produced by this 
 then unknown pestilence, for it was its first 
 appearance in our country, is forcibly painted in 
 some of his letters. Believed to be infectious 
 as the plague, all fled from it in horror. Three 
 fourths of the population of Philadelphia are 
 described as abandoning their homes ; all busi- 
 ness suspended, all ordinary ties broken through. 
 
BISHOP HO BART. 147 
 
 and none remaining in the devoted city, but 
 wretched sufferers, and the still more wretch- 
 ed friends with whom love was stronger than 
 death, or those noble few whom a high sense 
 of professional duty held around them ; while 
 its peopled streets are described as either de- 
 serted, or frequented by such only as sought 
 gain or plunder amid the dying and the dead. 
 Such is the fearful picture given by young 
 Hobart to his friend Skinner, while urging him 
 to awake up to seriousness upon such a call, — 
 admonitions which acquire a solemn value from 
 the reflection that it was to this very pesti- 
 lence he was soon to fall a victim. After 
 parting at college, these friends met once again 
 before their final separation. This is the visit 
 already mentioned, which young Hobart paid 
 to Skinner at his father's residence on Long- 
 Island, making friends as it seemed of tte 
 whole family, by his warm kind-heartedness, 
 even down to little negro Jack, who, as a subse- 
 quent letter mentions, often spoke of his absence 
 ' with great lamentation :' but on his friend's 
 mind that absence caused a more lasting and 
 rational sorrow. ' In being deprived of my dear 
 John,' says he, ' I not only lose a friend, but one 
 of the most powerful human means of my sal- 
 vation, for I now see the necessity of becoming 
 not only virtuous, but a professor of a true faith. 
 
148 MEMOIR OF 
 
 This I shall aim to become, and by the grace of 
 God through his Son do I hope to be successful ; 
 that this may be the case shall be my earnest 
 prayer. To die, to a sinner is death indeed, 
 but to a good man is a happy hour ; and this 
 shows us the necessity of being at all times 
 ready to meet that Judge before whom sinners 
 tremble.' Among those who fled from the pes- 
 tilence in the city, were Mrs. Hobart and her 
 daughter, Mrs. Smith with her family. Her 
 son, as already mentioned, joined them at Frank- 
 fort, Pennsylvania, where he found his brother- 
 in-law temporarily established in the same 
 mercantile business from which , he had beeii 
 driven in Philadelphia. What motives were 
 here urged or of themselves operated to induce 
 young Hobart to enter the counting-house, it 
 is not easy to say. He speaks indeed of ' the 
 wishes of friends, and several other circum- 
 stances,' but what those were we are left to 
 conjecture ; most probably, the narrow means 
 of his mother, and the prospect of a speedier 
 independence for her relief: but however right 
 the motive, it was unquestionably a wrong 
 decision ; an employment in which not only 
 his peculiar talents would have been wholly 
 lost, but one for which he. wanted even that 
 single talent which is essential to secure suc- 
 cess. An economist in money matters Mr. 
 
BISHOF HOBART. 149 
 
 Hobart neither was nor could have been made : 
 he was too mueh the creature of impulse, and 
 that impulse had in it too much of warm-hearted 
 sympathy, for a prudent estimate of money. In 
 his own personal expenses he was rather indif- 
 ferent than frugal, while to others his hand 
 like his heart was ever freely open. ' From 
 his boyhood,' says Professor McLean of Prince- 
 ton, ' this was his characteristic trait.' That a 
 sense of duty, therefore, rather than choice led 
 to this selection, is sufficiently evident. This 
 too appears from his letters; 'At length, my 
 dear White,' says he, in one about this period, 
 ' the close of my collegiate studies has ushered 
 me into the laborious and humble station of a 
 merchant's apprentice. The change is too 
 great for me as yet to rejoice at it ; nor have 
 my present engagements and amusements ef- 
 faced the remembrance of those I enjoyed at 
 college. In truth, my friend, those were the 
 happiest that have yet fallen to my lot, and 
 accuse me not of insensibility to the pleasures 
 of life, if I tell you that the anticipation of my 
 future probable course stamps a yet higher value 
 on them. But the counting-house could not 
 separate him from his brother whigs, whose 
 interests and pursuits, however remote from his 
 own, were dear to him as ever. His letters to 
 Princeton are filled with advice and exhort- 
 13* 
 
150 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ations ctilculated to direct or arouse them to 
 guard well the palm of academic victory they 
 had won. The following are a specimen. 
 
 ' Philadelphia, December 9ih, 1793. 
 My dear Tom, 
 
 By this tender though familiar appellation I ad- 
 dress you ; by it I distinguished you when my fellow 
 student and room-mate, and the remembrance of 
 college scenes and engagements I wish never to lose. 
 This very moment, while engaged in realizing the 
 happy scenes which college once presented, a gloom 
 overspreads my mind. You will not ask wherefore ? 
 But yet I take pleasure in reviewing them. Strange 
 constitution of the human mind ! but no less wise than 
 strange; for the exercise of those feelings ennobles 
 man, renders him alive to the wants ahd sorrows of 
 his fellow creatures, and endears the man of sensibility 
 as the instrument of happiness, and the object of love, 
 veneration and gratitude. But, my dear Tom, I should 
 not dwell on the subject of my separation from college, 
 did I not take pleasure in indulging and expressing 
 such thoughts to one whose heart is alive to many 
 tender feelings. ****** n jg f/fHYi singular 
 satisfaction I learn from your letter, that the Society 
 is likely to maintain its respectability, and which the 
 honorable exertions of the members will always secure 
 to it. For this reason I am glad to find that those who 
 have already become whigs, are young men of sound 
 judgment and good moral character. May you have 
 many such ! I know it will prosper if its members 
 cherish a warm and disinterested attachment to its* 
 welfare. This will give rise to diligence, unanimity, 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 151 
 
 friendship, and every other virtue which can advance 
 its honor. Diligent attention to the exercises, caution 
 in making innovations, and coolness and deliberation 
 in determining on measures, — these are, I am well 
 satisfied, particularly necessary to the internal concord 
 and peace of the institution. 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 J. H. HOBAHT.' 
 
 To one of the new members he writes as 
 follows : it is his first letter to young Scott, of 
 whom mention has already been made. 
 
 ' Philadelphia, June 11th, 1794. 
 My dear Warren, 
 
 Perhaps you may be a little surprised at hearing 
 from me. Though on your entrance into college I 
 was a stranger to you, yet you showed for me an 
 esteem and affection which in the same situation I have 
 experienced from few, and I should think myself 
 possessed of a strange insensibility, if your expression 
 of attachment to me did not excite in my breast a cor- 
 responding emotion. Whenever I have had an oppor- 
 tunity I have inquired after you, and it has given me 
 the greatest pleasure to hear of the honorable character 
 you have maintained in your class. I have no doubt 
 but what you are able, and I hope will continue to 
 preserve this character j for I am persuaded you will 
 derive the greatest satisfaction from a reflection on the 
 proficiency you have made, and the consciousness of 
 being the object of esteem with those under whose 
 care you are placed, and who will always take pleasure 
 in rewarding merit. The period of life at which you 
 
152 MEMOIR OF 
 
 are is very important ; every moment of time is valua- 
 ble. Your fortune, honor, respectability and happi- 
 ness as a man, depend upon the proper improvement 
 of your present advantages. But this it may be is not 
 a new idea. You have doubtless often heard it, and 
 certainly act under it more than many who are your 
 superiors in age and experience. Yet still you cannot 
 too often think of the value of time, and the necessity 
 of early acquiring habits of attention and diligence. 
 I am sure you must derive a great deal of pleasure 
 and improvement from the Society. Attention to your 
 duties there will exercise your judgment, and greatly 
 advance your progress in literature. I am sure you 
 must feel an attachment to it. Ardently then pursue 
 its interests. When called upon to act in any office, 
 seek carefully and attentively for what is your duty, 
 and then let no consideration of popularity, no fear of 
 offending, deter you from the performance of it. By 
 this conduct you will in the end gain reputation, 
 beside enjoying the approbation of your own mind. 
 Let prudence, perseverance, calmness and judgment, 
 mark all your actions, and I have no doubt but what 
 yon will advance the honor and prosperity of the 
 institution. ' It is worthy of your warmest attachment, 
 and demands your most zealous endeavors. ^ * » * * 
 I am much pleased, my dear Warren, to hear that you 
 are to have an opportunity of doing so on the 4th 
 July, and I have no doubt, my dear boy, but what you 
 will be successful. It will give me pleasure to hear 
 from you when you have leisure, and believe that I 
 remain with affection, my dear Warren, your sincere 
 friend, 
 
 J. H. HOBAET.' 
 
BISHOP HOBAKT. 153 
 
 With such thoughts uppermost in his mind, 
 it is not to be wondered at that his mercantile 
 occupations soon became distasteful. He gave 
 them however a fair trial. As inclination had 
 not led him to this course of life, so neither did 
 he allow want of inclination to drive him from 
 it, and returning with Mr. Smith to Philadelphia, 
 as soon as safety permitted, he devoted himself 
 to the duties of the counting-house, through 
 the ensuing winter, with all his constitutional 
 ardor. But nature and education united were 
 too strong for him, so that even his brother-in- 
 law writes to a friend, ' John does not discover 
 any talents for a mercantile life ; his taste and 
 views are all decidedly literary.' We are not 
 surprised therefore to find him after a few 
 months, in a letter to a young friend, holding 
 this language : • I am tired of the Mercantile . 
 business, or rather I feel a greater inclination 
 for something else. It is so serious I cannot 
 tell it you now.' What this preference was 
 may easily be conjectured ; to his friend Skinner 
 he freely unbosomed himself. ' How I should 
 rejoice,' says he, 'were we both to embrace, 
 from pure and holy views, that sacred ofiice in 
 which if we faithfully performed our duty on 
 earth, we should enjoy the greatest happiness 
 here, and hereafter shine as stars in the firma- 
 ment of heaven.' But still it was with fear and 
 
154 MEMOIR OF 
 
 trembling he took up the resolution. In a letter 
 of June 16th, 1794, he observes : 'I still have 
 in view the ministry. O what an awful under- 
 taking ! I am afraid that my motives for it 
 are not sufficiently pure ; that I have not suffi- 
 ciently in view the sacred ends for which it 
 was instituted, — the turning of many to repent- 
 ance, and building them up in the faith of 
 God and of a blessed Saviour. But, I hope that 
 God for Christ's sake will bless me, and that 
 he will make me in his hands, the humble 
 instrument of turning many to righteousness.' 
 In a subsequent one of October 21st, he repeats 
 his fears : ' My views still continue the same 
 with respect to my profession. I am anxious 
 to engage in the ministry, but I am afraid I 
 have not a proper sense of the importance of 
 the duties connected with it or of the qualifica- 
 tions it requires. In the latter I know I am 
 deficient. I daily become more sensible, to use 
 a scriptural and very just expression, with ' the 
 plague of my own heart.' ' It is indeed de- 
 ceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.' 
 It is useless indeed for me to lament this, while 
 exertion on my part is wanting. Yet I rejoice 
 that Christ has made a sufficient atonement 
 for my sins, and that through faith in him the 
 chief of sinners may be reconciled to God. In 
 this character would I seek a merciful God, and 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 155 
 
 beseech Him by the merits and atonement of 
 his crucified Son to pardon my sins, to rectify 
 my nature, to subdue the power of sin Vithin 
 me, and to make me holy in heart and life.' 
 Such were the workings of his humble and 
 deeply spiritual mind, and such the preparation 
 of a heart which in after life by those who knew 
 it not, was charged with being ignorant of the 
 feelings of vital religion. Nor were those feel- 
 ings changed by years — he died as he had 
 lived, in the expression of them. Among his 
 last words were, ' Bear me witness, I have ho 
 merit of my own ; as a guilty sinner I go to my 
 Saviour casting all my reliance on Him, on the 
 atonement of his blood.' 
 
 Within a few months after he had entered the 
 counting-house, a letter was received by him, 
 whfch, with his own inward whisperings, must 
 have fully satisfied even hie doubting mind of 
 his fitness for higher things. This was an un- 
 solicited call from the authorities at Princeton, 
 inviting him to the station of college tutor. 
 The invitation was a flattering one. As a youth 
 of eighteen, it was a high compliment to his ac- 
 quisition's and judgment ; as an Episcopalian, it 
 was an equally high one to his integrity and can- 
 dor ; and doubly gratifying, in both respects, as 
 coming from those who were best acquainted 
 with his character and talents. The following 
 
156 MEMOIK OF 
 
 letters communicate both the offer and his ac- 
 ceptance of it. 
 
 ' Princeton, November \Sth, 1793. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 It has been suggested that your own inclinations 
 would lead you to pursue your liberal studies to a greater 
 extent, and that a residence at Princeton would not be 
 disagreeable to you, in order to have the more leisure 
 for improvement. Although I have reason to believe 
 that advantageous proposals will be made you by Mr. 
 S., yet I have been desired to inquire whether or not 
 you will accept of an appointment in college, in the 
 room of Mr. Abeel. I know not your private views, 
 nor how such a situation would accord with your ideas ; 
 but if you were willing to accept the appointment, there 
 is no person who would more unanimously obtain it ; 
 and, I must say for myself, it would be peculiarly agree- 
 able to me. Your answer to this inquiry, by the first 
 post, will very much oblige, dear Sir, 
 
 Your very humble servant, 
 
 Samuel S. Smith.' 
 
 ' Philadelphia, NbvemberiiSd, 1793. 
 Sir, 
 
 I must acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 
 18th instant, and should have sooner paid it the neces- 
 sary attention, had not its contents, interesting in a high 
 degree to my future welfare and happiness, required 
 consideration. The confidence of the Faculty, with 
 which I am so unexpectedly honored, excites in my 
 mind a lively gratitude, accompanied by a feeling con- 
 viction of the necessity of the most unremitted exer- 
 tions on my part to fulfil with honor the oflice they 
 
BISHOP H.OBART. 157 
 
 would confer upon me. A desire to pursue with advan- 
 tage studies of a liberal nature, and also to have leisure 
 for reflection and improvement, have induced me to look 
 upon a residence at Princeton as desirable ; and I had 
 it in contemplation, with the consent of my friends, to 
 remove there to pursue my studies in a private capacity. 
 But as the oiFer to which your letter has reference would 
 afford a greater scope for improvement, my own wishes, 
 and of consequence the consent of my friends,, lead to 
 the acceptance of it. At the same time, I repeat the 
 declaration, that I am fully sensible the greatest exer- 
 tions on my part could alone qualify me for the honor- 
 able discharge of its important duties. These I can 
 safely promise, from a principle of duty, will not be 
 wanting. The wish of the Faculty on this subject 
 should be handed to me by the first opportunity, as 
 immediate preparations will be necessary. With a high 
 sense of the honor conferred upon me by the confidence 
 of the Faculty, and of your kind wishes with respect 
 to my future engagements, I remain their and your 
 Most obliged servant, 
 
 John H. Hoeabt.' 
 
 The following letter is to an old college friend, 
 written from Princeton soon after his second re- 
 turn to it, though it would seem as yet with no 
 official appointment. 
 
 ' Princeton, July 26«A, 1794. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 The receipt of your letter of 2d June gave me very 
 
 great pleasure. I was fearful mine had miscarried. 
 
 In this situation your letter was peculiarly acceptable. 
 
 I have not as yet found reason to alter an opinion I early 
 
 14 
 
158 MEMOIR OF 
 
 adopted, that the portion of life spent in the place of 
 our education is the happiest. The engagements of 
 future life, then beheld at a distance, promise happiness. 
 The field of science lies before us, and we think we 
 can never be tired traversing it. Thus happy in our 
 present engagements, and in the anticipation of those 
 that are to come, the season of youth glides away* 
 But, in fact, man is ever anticipating happiness : and 
 does not this clearly prove that he is to exist hereafter ? 
 Does it not prove that this life was never designed to 
 afford him complete enjoyment 1 Does it not enforce 
 the necessity of his. directing his attention to that life 
 to which both reason and revelation teach him this is 
 only an introduction ? And yet how few make this 
 natural and obvious improvement! Science, honor, 
 riches, pleasure, are ardently pursued, but the qualifica- 
 tions for a future state of being are little sought after. 
 Men live here as if they were to live here for ever, or 
 as if, at the close of this life, an everlasting sleep were 
 to level them with the brutes that perish. 
 
 I have relinquished mercantile business, and intend 
 to spend the summer here in reading. I returned with 
 great satisfaction to the scenes of my former improve- 
 ment and pleasure. They strongly recall to my mind 
 those with whom I spent my time so agreeably ; and I 
 seldom enter the rooms of my former companions with- 
 out thinking of them. College is very full. Thewhigs 
 are superior alike in ^numbers and merit ; and if they 
 continue to act with the same prudence, will increase 
 the dignity and honor of the Society. There is every 
 prospect of their obtaining the highest honors at the 
 ensuing Commencement, and, if we may judge from 
 present appearances, many future ones. This informa- 
 tion, I know, will give you pleasure.' 
 
BISHOP MOBART. 159 
 
 In answer, his friend observes : 
 
 ' You tell me you have declined the pursuit of mer- 
 cantile business. I applaud your resolution: Do not 
 suppose I flatter when I say, I have always thought you 
 well calculated for some profession where oratorical 
 talent might be displayed. The mercantile business is 
 suited to those who have not had your opportunities. 
 Besides the profit, nothing can be said In its praise. 
 But most professions are profitable as well as that, and 
 "besides, put a man in the line of honor and preferment. 
 The professional man, too, is better calculated for ren- 
 dering services to society, — no small source of comfort 
 to him. But what do you mean to pursue after you 
 leave Princeton 1 Let me invite you to the study of 
 the law. My best wishes attend the Whig Society. 
 The institution will be remembered to my latest mo- 
 ments. If any of my old acquaintances are at Prince- 
 fon, make my regards to them. 
 
 Your sincere friend, 
 
 W. M. Watkins. 
 
 The contemplated college arrangement, how- 
 ever mutually desirable and desired as it might 
 seem, did not yet take effect until near two years 
 afterward. On the present occasion, the failure 
 arose on part of the College, from some misun- 
 derstanding not very clearly explained, and the 
 place filled with another, though, as was stated 
 to Mr. H., ' temporarily.' But, in the mean- 
 time, his own views of its desirableness were 
 changed, or rather fluctuated, bringing his mind 
 
160 MEMOIR OF 
 
 into that painful state of doubt which often besets 
 the young when called upon to decide their 
 course in life. On such occasion the mental 
 vision becomes cdnfused : like the eye of a lands- 
 man at sea, it looks into a hazy atmosphere, 
 where it mistakes alike the size, distance, and 
 shapes of objects. Thus it was with our inex- 
 perienced collegian. Touching an offer pre- 
 cisely the same in the conclusion as at the 
 beginning, he concurred, retracted, hesitated, 
 declined, and finally accepted. Now this unim- 
 portant circumstance is here noticed, because in 
 after life his decisions bore such an opposite cha- 
 racter, being so rapid and unwavering as to look 
 more like instinct than reflection, and with such 
 a clear forecast of consequences, that we might 
 almost apply to him the eulogium of the Roman 
 biographer, ' Prudentiam ejus quodammodo esse 
 divinationem.' — (Nepos in Cic.) But this 
 change was obviously one not of character, but 
 of circumstance : the same conscientiousness 
 which made him doubtful when ignorant, made 
 him firm when instructed ; and the same saga- 
 city which in youth made his intellectual percep- 
 tions too acute for his judgment, was the very 
 source, in after life, of that promptitude of choice, 
 and perseverance in action, which made him, 
 both in deliberation and act, the admiration of 
 his friends and the dread of his opponents. It 
 
BISHOP HOB ART. 161 
 
 was (to repeat the analogy) the same eye look- 
 ing out into the same misty atmosphere, but now 
 guided by a seaman's judgment, and aided by 
 the telescope of experience. Few, indeed, bet- 
 ter than Bishop Hobart deserved the praise once 
 bestowed upon Themistocles, of being * a good 
 guesser of the future by the past ;' his official 
 life having been mostly spent in the maintenance 
 of a policy which anticipated the results of expe- 
 rience, and the opposition he met with being that 
 which awaits all men in public life whose saga- 
 city foresees consequences beyond the vision of 
 those with whom they are called upon to act. 
 Nor perhaps, in truth, was the argument on this 
 occasion one so easily summed up. On the one 
 side, as he rightly argued, were ' the advantages 
 the situation would give for study and reflec- 
 tion ;' on the other, that ' the duties of the office 
 would require more ability and experience than 
 he possessed at his early age.' ' The associa- 
 tion to which it would lead him with men of 
 talents and information,' was certainly an ad- 
 vantage ; but to this there was to be set in oppo- 
 sition, that ' he would be obliged to shake off 
 many pleasing intimacies with the students;' 
 and while he appreciated ' the advantage of be- 
 ing called to direct and influence the conduct of 
 others, as fitting him for active intercourse with 
 mankind,' he yet felt the ' loss of being unable 
 14* 
 
16Z MEMOIR OF 
 
 to participate in the enjoyments of that Society 
 in whose business and discussions he had always 
 taken so conspicuous a part.' As an Episcopa- 
 lian, he doubted the prudence or delicacy of be- 
 coming an officer in a seminary practically, if 
 not professedly, Presbyterian ; and as an affec- 
 tionate son, he felt very unwilling to separate 
 himself from an aged mother. ' My friends,' 
 says he, in a letter to Skinner, ' though they 
 acquiesce in this scheme, are averse to it. It is 
 their wish that I should be with them. My mo- 
 ther also would lose a great part of her happi- 
 ness, were I to be away from her. She is now 
 in the decline of life. Her children's happiness 
 and interests have been the object of all her exer- 
 tions, and these now demand from them every 
 attention which it is in their power to render. 
 Uncertain how long she may be with us, I can- 
 not think of leaving her. She and all my other 
 relations, however, wish me to go if I think it 
 would be most to my advantage and interest.' . 
 
 Now this turmoil of contending motives was 
 a state of mind certainly not desirable, perhaps 
 not needful in the case ; and yet, on the whole, 
 it had doubtless its disciplining advantages : 
 it deepened his knowledge of human nature, 
 by making him better acquainted with his own 
 character ; it opened up to him the common 
 springs of action in the breast, and thus con- 
 
BISHOF HOBART. 163 
 
 tributed to arm him for future contest with the 
 wills of others, by teaching him where lay the 
 weak points of his own. In estimating the 
 causes which form the youthful mind, too 
 much stress is generally laid upon external aids 
 and circumstances. It is doubtless the inward 
 discipline that tells the most : the battle of pas- 
 sion within, once fought and won, is worth 
 volumes for teaching us how victory is to be 
 gained ; and he who has once been called upon, 
 as young Hobart here was, to hold the balance 
 long and even, in some great and dubious deci- 
 sion of life, has learned more than either books 
 or men can teach him, by what weights the 
 scales of judgment are turned, and, what is 
 more practical, how to manage those nicer 
 scruples by which the trembling beam is final- 
 ly determined. Even when the judgment is 
 wrong, the benefit is not therefore lost, since 
 error may be a yet deeper teacher than truth, and 
 painful experience but render more searching the 
 future counsels of friendship. In either case, 
 where there is sincerity of purpose, the advan- 
 tage is gained of learning the human heart — in 
 its length and breadth and depth — in its fears, 
 its hopes, its weaknesses, and its strength. One 
 thus trained by self-discipline, when called to be 
 a spiritual or prudential monitor to others, feels 
 himself as a guide through a country with which 
 
164 MEMOIR OF 
 
 he is familiar : he will therefore fill not the ear 
 with words, but the mind with thoughts, and the 
 heart with confidence; the doubting wanderer 
 yielding himself at once to a guide whose eye is 
 so clear, and whose step so firm and unhesi- 
 tating. 
 
 Although there may be no sufficient ground 
 for attributing so large an influence to this parti- 
 cular passage of young Hobart's life, there is yet 
 no question that he had early acquired, in a sin- 
 gularly eminent degree, the governing talent of 
 leading all minds that came in contact with his 
 own ; and there can be as little doubt, on all the 
 principles of sound philosophy, that the self-ex- 
 perience to which the earlier events of his life led 
 him, by throwing him much upon his own re- 
 sources, was the training that gave it to him. 
 
 The following letter to his mother marks the 
 period of his second entrance on academic duties. 
 
 ' Princeton, October 31«t, 1795. 
 I think of you, my dear mamma, much oftener than 
 I write to you ; and whenever I do, I wish very much 
 to be with you. I lament sometimes that I cannot en- 
 joy the advantages of my present situation, and at the 
 same time the company of my dear mother and all 
 whom I love in Philadelphia ; but this is more than I 
 have any right to expect. I hope, however, when I have 
 made more proficiency in my studies, to spend some 
 time again at home before entering on my profession. 
 Afterward it seems uncertain where I shall be; but 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 165 
 
 wherever it shall please God to place me, I trust I shall 
 be contented; and indeed how can I be otherwise when 
 I reflect that He hath placed me there ! Much as I 
 suffered, and still do suffer, from the deprivation of a 
 very dear friend, I yet feel the fullest conviction that it 
 was intended for my good, and I humbly trust that in 
 some degree at least it has had this effect. I feel more 
 disposed than ever I did to perform faithfully every 
 duty arising from my relations to this world. I feel 
 more anxious than ever to qualify myself for the im- 
 portant and sacred office which I have in view ; but I 
 have been taught no longer to look for complete happi- 
 ness here ; and while I feel grateful for every blessing 
 I possess, yet do I look for perfect enjoyment only in 
 another world. In proportion as I profit by this lesson, 
 I feel contented and happy. Till lately I felt anxious 
 and troubled about many things which I now consider 
 as of little importance. Relying too much upon my- 
 self and upon the world, I experienced frequently a 
 great deal of uneasiness, which I am now delivered 
 from when reflecting on the infinite wisdom and good- 
 ness of an Almighty Parent. Thus what is itself the 
 cause of my sorrow, tends to my real advantage. I am 
 thus free in writing to you, my dear mamma, because 
 I think it will give you satisfaction ; and I feel so sen- 
 sible how much you have done for me, that I would 
 wish to make you every return in my power. 1 have 
 received a letter from Colonel Skinner, and also one 
 from Miss Skinner, in answer to those which I wrote. 
 When I have an opportunity I will let you see them. 
 I am perfectly well, and you may depend I shall never 
 neglect my health. As I unite a proper degree of exer- 
 cise with study, I am under no apprehension of injuring 
 myself in that way ; and I shall endeavor to correct in 
 
166 MEMOIR OF 
 
 that which you mention. Forsyth stays here all the 
 vacation, which, you may be sure, gives me pleasure. 
 He joins in love to my dear mamma with her sincerely 
 affectionate 
 
 John H. Hobart.' 
 
 In January, 1796, he entered upon his new 
 duties, taking about the same time his second 
 academic degree of A, M. Some yet live who 
 remember him as college tutor, and all concur 
 in giving to him a character peculiarly well 
 fitted for duties, which in his humility he esteem- 
 ed himself unequal to. ' As an oflScer, prompt 
 and efficient ; as an instructor, able and success- 
 ful,' — ' in manner, alike firm and conciliatory ; 
 dignified, yet unassuming ;' ' vehement in emo- 
 tion, but moderate in action ; earnest in reproof, 
 yet mild in punishment,' — all these traits go 
 to mark him such a tutor, as good students 
 must have loved, bad ones feared, and all 
 respected. . But the original sources of this 
 information are too honorable to him to be 
 withheld. 
 
 ' He was,' says Dr. Caldwell,* ' as an in- 
 structor, ardent, industrious, and faithful, and 
 always acted upon principle and conscience in 
 the discharge of his duties. He was prompt in 
 
 * Rev. Joseph Caldwell, D. D., President of University oif 
 North Carolina, Chapel Hill. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 167 
 
 action, and expression ; sometimes vehement, 
 and in danger of a little transport, ^but ready 
 afterward to admit it, and conceding with a 
 becpming manliness of spirit. In his tutorship 
 he maintained himself with a sense of danger 
 on these accounts, and was considered as inter- 
 esting by a union of earnestness with simplicity 
 and ingenuousness of feeling.' 
 
 A letter to him from Princeton, during his 
 absence, introduces the name of another friend, 
 upon whose pen we shall also draw for a picture, 
 while the letter itself affords a proof of the kindly 
 feelings with which he was every where regard- 
 ed. ' I returned on Friday,' says Henry KoUock, 
 'to Nassau, after spending a vacation diversi- 
 fied with different hues. The college will 
 probably continue with very few students this 
 session. Mr. Bearsley has been here some time. 
 I am highly pleased with him from my short 
 acquaintance, and anticipate much pleasure in 
 his society. Gk)od Mrs. Knox thinks of you 
 with the same affection, and talks of you with 
 the same kindness which she always entertained 
 for you. She charges me to remember her to 
 you in the tenderest manner.' ' In the fall of 
 1795,' says the Rev. Dr. Bearsley, the friend 
 above alluded to, ' commenced my acquaintance 
 with Mr. Hobart. Never shall I forget the 
 impression produced upon my mind by my first 
 
168 MEMOIR OF 
 
 introduction to him, and the conversation which 
 followed, having myself just entered the college 
 at Princeton as an under-graduate of the junior 
 class. Upon some occasion of business in which 
 his advice was solicited, I was conducted into 
 the room which he occupied as his study, and 
 saw a youth of no very prepossessing appearance, 
 (at least to me at that period,) seated at his 
 desk, and engaged iii the study of theology. 
 I beheld before me a figure of middling size, 
 sallow complexion, features somewhat irregular, 
 a countenance obscured in its expression by 
 the use of glasses to correct the deficiency of 
 short sight, a contracted forehead, and a head 
 thickly covered with hair, while all its propor- 
 tions were imperfectly defined. I had been 
 previously informed that he was a youth of 
 uncommon parts, and had graduated in college 
 a few years before with the highest honors of 
 the institution. His first appearance but little 
 accorded with the expectations' that had been 
 awakened of his talents and interesting qualities. 
 These unfavorable prepossessions, however, were 
 immediately removed when I was introduced, 
 entered into conversation with him, and caught 
 the silver tones of his voice. He received us 
 with that frank, cordial, and ardent manner, by 
 which he was so peculiarly distinguished, and 
 in a few moments I was convinced that he pos- 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 169 
 
 sessed remarkable clearness of understanding', 
 and readiness and powers of conversation. He 
 at once entered with the deepest interest into 
 the business upon which we had been induced 
 to seek an interview, gave us satisfactory inform- 
 ation on the subject, explained the best mode 
 of proceeding in the case, tendered the offers of 
 any services in future ; and I left him so much 
 gratified and delighted, that a foundation was 
 then laid for the subsequent intimacy between 
 us, which has formed one of the highest sources 
 of my satisfaction in life, and the loss of which 
 at this moment presents to my imagination and 
 feelings, one of the widest vacuities in the series 
 of earthly enjoyments.' 
 
 The kindness and promptness of service, which 
 thus won the heart of the young student, con- 
 tinued throughout life a characteristic trait of 
 Mr. Hobart's character, and made him wherever 
 circumstances placed him, though but for a day, 
 friend and patron both in heart and hand to 
 all who stood in need of his aid or sympathy. 
 Lest however a false impression should be given 
 to strangers of his personal appearance by (he 
 above description, it must be added, that he 
 was then laboring under the effects of severe 
 indisposition, brought upon him by overstrained 
 application. As a picture of him in subsequent 
 life, it is far from doing him justice. Though 
 15 
 
170 MEMOIR OF 
 
 rather under size, his figure was well propor- 
 tioned, and strongly knit, giving the impression 
 of strength and hardihood at a second glance, 
 greater than at first it seemed to promise. His 
 movements were not only quick but energetic, 
 and the expression of his countenance, while it 
 corresponded with every varying emotion of his 
 mind, never lost its ready smile of cheerfulness 
 and kindness. It was such a countenance and 
 manner as a stranger would address with un- 
 doubting confidence that he would meet with 
 no unkind repulse. 
 
 We have already seen several instances of 
 the freedom with which his pen was put in 
 requisition for Commencement speeches. The 
 following letter from a quondam friend, who had 
 taken or was about taking Orders in the Pres- 
 byterian Church, shows, that his aid was not 
 always confined to academic walls and subjects. 
 
 ^ Sew- Brunswick, June Ut, 1797. 
 My dear friend, 
 
 I cheerfully embrace the opportunity of Mr. C.'s 
 return from New-York,1o convey a few lines for your 
 perusal. It would have given me great satisfaction to 
 have seen and conversed with you at the meeting of 
 the Presbytery in April last, but you had gone to 
 Philadelphia. I hope you have returned to Princeton, 
 refreshed by relaxation' from study and college busi- 
 ness, and with your mind fortified by cheerful resigna- 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 171 
 
 tion and calm resolution, to bear any trial of life. I 
 have received no answer as yet to the letter I wrote to 
 Forsyth. My time will be during this summer so 
 wholly engrossed" by study, that I am afraid I shall be 
 deemed negligent by some of my friends ; to you, my 
 dear John, I shall dedicate whatever with propriety I 
 can, and would wish as much as possible of communi- 
 cation with your enlarged understanding and feeling 
 heart. The Presbytery have appointed me a popular 
 discourse on Hosea, 13th chapter, 9th verse, and a 
 lecture on 2 Samuel, 23d chapter, first 5 verses. This 
 last is a little peculiar, as mixing critical with practical 
 divinity. I am here much in want of critical com- 
 mentators. I wish therefore you would at your leisure 
 oblige me so much, as to select from Patrick, Poole, and 
 others, as short and judicious an explication of these 
 verses as you can with convenience, as also Dr. Smith's 
 and your own sentiments on this passage. Mr. Scott 
 and Mr. Sloane after delivering their discourses were 
 yesterday licensed. Mr. Scott will be at Princeton 
 this week; his health seems very precarious. Good 
 young man, I trust he may be spared for usefulness 
 in life. I wish much to hear from Caldwell and For- 
 syth ; if you have received late letters, inform me in 
 your next. Make my excuses to my friend Thomas 
 How for not yet writing to him. He likes long epistles, 
 and I am over-crowded with business. However, assure 
 him of one soon. Make my respects to Mercer, a young 
 man I highly esteem, and hope to see a good and 
 highly valuable member of society. My dear John, 
 write me soon, and be assured of the kindest regards 
 of your affectionate friend, 
 
 Eben. Grant.' 
 
172 MEMOIROF 
 
 The college of Nassau, never deficient in its 
 due share of the talented youth of our country, 
 seems at this time to have had more than its 
 usual proportion. In addition to those already 
 mentioned, may be added the names of two 
 who advanced to be governors of their native 
 state, Peter Early and George M. Troup of 
 Georgia; two of high rank in the Federal 
 Government, Richard Rush, late minister to 
 the Court of St. James, and John M. Berrien, 
 late Attorney-General ; two heads of universi- 
 ties, Joseph Caldwell, President of the University 
 of North Carolina, and Frederick Beasley, Pro- 
 vost of that of Pennsylvania ; the Hon. William 
 Gaston of North Carolina ; Charles Fenton 
 Mercer of Virginia ; John Sergeant and William 
 Meredith of Pennsylvania ; the Rev. Dr. Kollock 
 of Savannah, and Judge Burnet of Ohio ; beside 
 many others whose professional rank and private 
 virtues would justly entitle them to enumeration. 
 With many of these his contemporaries, the 
 recollection of their college friend is vivid and 
 strong ; with all, amiable and pleasing. The 
 following are selected : ' I was not,' says Ser- 
 geant, ' his contemporary at Princeton ; he pre- 
 ceded me by several years. When I first arrived 
 at college, he was living in the town as a 
 graduate, engaged in the pursuit of his theolo- 
 gical studies. I rarely saw him ; but the place 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 173 
 
 was full of his fame. Every one who had 
 opportunities of knowing him, dwelt upon his 
 talents and power of application. He had 
 gained while in college the first honors of his 
 class, and gave every presage of the intellectual 
 eminence that awaited him in after life. He 
 continued to keep up an occasional connection 
 with one of the literary societies to which he 
 had belonged, where his abilities were always 
 iisefuUy and signally displayed.' ' Mr. Hobar't,' 
 says Mr. Rush, ' graduated before my entrance 
 into college, which was in the spring of 1794. 
 In the fall preceding, he returned to pursue the 
 study of divinity. It was then I saw him for 
 the first time, and regarded him with great 
 interest on account of the distinguished reputa- 
 tion he had established in college ; but he being 
 a graduate, which separated him from association 
 with the students, and I being very young, we 
 seldom met. My chief recollection of him is 
 as a member of the Whig Society ; he generally 
 attended the meetings, and always maintained 
 there a decided ascendancy. From that period 
 till his death I seldom saw him, but observed 
 his course at a distance, as marked by the same 
 elevation which distinguished him in early life.' 
 Mr. Gaston says, ' I had not the honor of being 
 an associate of the late Bishop Hobart during 
 his collegiate course; he graduated in 1793, 
 15* 
 
174 MEMOIR OF 
 
 and I entered as a member of the junior clasa 
 at the beginning of the winter session of 1794. 
 He was still, however, residing in college when 
 I reached Princeton, which was to me a subject 
 of deep interest, from the animated contest in 
 which he had been engaged for the first honor 
 of his class. Between the graduates and stu- 
 dents there were very few, ties. Although I 
 saw him every day, nothing occurred to bring 
 about us any thing like intimacy. I retain, 
 however, a vivid and distinct recollection of his 
 face, person, gait, manners, and voice ; these 
 all rendered him interesting ; they indicated 
 quickness of perception, activity, kindness, depth 
 and ardor of -feeling. With respect to his merit, 
 there was but one opinion : all esteemed him for 
 his genius, learning, and virtue.' Mr. Troup's 
 account goes further, having enjoyed the advan- 
 tage of being under his tutorship. ' The im- 
 pressions,' says he, ' made in early life of the 
 purity, worth, and piety, which distinguished 
 the late Bishop Hobart, are yet lively, and can 
 never be effaced. He was our tutor at Prince- 
 ton, and was as much respected, and as univer- 
 sally beloved, as ever tutor was, or as the relation 
 between preceptor and student permits. His 
 after course truly corresponded with the hopes 
 then entertained of him, and he seems to have 
 fulfilled to the last, and to the last tittle, the 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 175 
 
 I 
 
 sanguine predictions of those senior friends, 
 whose sagacity foresaw the future and detected 
 the germs of that usefulness and loveliness, 
 which it is your* province, as it will be your 
 pleasure, to record.' 
 
 The following letter to his mother introduces 
 the notice of another college friend, upon whom, 
 after the death of young Forsyth, his warm 
 affections seemed mainly to rest — an attach- 
 ment which continued through life. 
 
 'Princeton, August Wth, 1797. 
 The affectionate letter of my dear mother gave me as 
 much consolation as my mind was'then fitted to receive ; 
 and the soothing and sympathetic counsel of my dear 
 sister, with the bright motives her letter suggested to 
 resignation and hope, shed a light on the darkness of 
 my mind that revived and comforted me : indeed I am 
 tt a loss to express my grateful feelings for the conso- 
 lation her letter gave me. The affectionate prayers of 
 my dear mother for my comfort and happiness, will 
 not, I trust, be vain. I trust that Providence will bless 
 to me that state of sober and calm reflection that suc- 
 ceeds the first agony of grief; and however my feel^ 
 ings may be excited when I think of the friend I once 
 had but now have no more, I yet trust I shall know 
 that a steady and constant reliance on the goodness of 
 agracious Providence is a support adequate to the great- 
 est trials I can be called on to bear. But alas ! how 
 diflicult to realize this powerful motive to resignation ! 
 
 * Addressed to Rev. W. Berrian, his Biographer and Editor of 
 his Works. 
 
176 MEMOIR OF 
 
 John (Forsyth) and myself have both received short 
 letters from his mamma, written near a week after she 
 had heard of the death of Robert, which was announced 
 to me by a messenger while she was on the road from 
 Augusta to see him. She had raised' herself, for the 
 first time, from her pillow to write the few lines she 
 forwarded to us. It gave me pleasure to see that, in the 
 midst of inexpressible grief, the natural strength of her 
 mind was fortified by the pious resignation and hope of 
 the Christian ; and that a sense of duty to her remain- 
 ing son, while it led her to repress her own grief to 
 alleviate his, made her also consider life as still desirable 
 for his sake. I wrote to her by the succeeding post. 
 The illness of Robert was but of few days, from Friday 
 to Wednesday ; an inflammatory fever which ended in 
 mortification. 
 
 It seems as if, whatever losses I may sustain, I am not 
 to be left wholly destitute of those enjoyments my feel- 
 ings lead me most to value. I have experienced from 
 an amiable young man, (Mercer,) who lives with me, 
 the sage counsel of manhood, with the tenderness and 
 affection of the warmest heart. He receives the first 
 honors in his class, and graduates this fall, and presses 
 me with tender solicitude to spend the six weeks' vaca- 
 tion with him in Virginia. The disinterested kindness 
 with which he urges the necessity of some great change 
 of scene for my health and spirits, with my own con- 
 viction that it would be beneficial, incline me to go. I 
 mention these circumstances that I may receive direc- 
 tion and advice upon the subject. I am, my dear 
 mamma, your sincerely affectionate 
 
 John H. Hobart. 
 
 N. B. Ten dollars inclosed.' 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 177 
 
 The following letters from him to his mother 
 and his friend Mercer indicate that the proposed 
 journey was taken, and proved not only favor- 
 able to health and spirits, but left upon his ardent 
 mind such a warm impression of kindness as 
 came well nigh to change his own destinies and 
 those of the Church, by a permaneni residence 
 at the South. 
 
 Predericksburgh, October 26. 
 My dear Mamma, 
 
 - I got to this place from Mr. Garnetl's, in Essex 
 county, about an hour ago ; but, on application at the 
 office, find the stage full; and no possibility of my 
 getting on before Monday. I don't know when I have 
 met with a severer disappointment. Considering the 
 short time I shall be with you, two days are of material 
 consequence. I must however submit, and endeavor to 
 make myself as contented as possible. You may ex- 
 pect to see me much fatter than when I left home ; but 
 still do not raise your expectations too high. I don't 
 know when I have spent my time more agreeably. 
 The family in which I have been form a scene of do- 
 mestic happiness that my imagination has often painted, 
 but such as I have never before found realized. Every 
 want and even wish supplied by an ample sufficiency, 
 content beams, I may say, in every countenance. And 
 then their manners, unfettered by the artificial forms of 
 politeness, and yet entirely removed from rustic plain^ 
 ness, mark the artless expression of internal goodness 
 wishing to dispense happiness to all around. In such 
 society could I be otherwise than happy ? With love 
 
 to all, yours, &c. 
 
 John H. Ho^aht.' 
 
178 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ' Philadelphia, November 5lh, 1797. 
 I was disappointed, my dear Mercer, in not getting a 
 letter from you by yesterday's mail. The amiable and 
 delightful society of Essex are almost constantly in my 
 thoughts : I fancy myself still among them, and I che- 
 rish the pleasing delusion. The time spent there was 
 a period of unaffected happiness, such as I never before 
 enjoyed : it was perfectly congenial to my wishes ; it 
 realized those scenes Of domestic bliss and social life, 
 amiable and refined, — of simplicity and ardent benevo- 
 lence, which my imagination has often exhibited to me, 
 but rather as visionary forms with which she so often 
 dazzles us, than as realities that I should ever enjoy in 
 this world. If I am ever happy in life, it can only be 
 in such society as that; and I am daily and hourly 
 more confirmed in the plan I had thought of, to settle 
 in Virginia. The obstacles to this plan from this quar- 
 ter, though I never supposed they would be serious, 
 are even less than I expected ; and what sanctions my 
 wishes Is the consideration, that where I can Uve most 
 happily I can there be also most useful. Yes, my dear 
 Mercer, the affable and open manners of those of the 
 Virginians I have seen, their desire and constant atten- 
 tion to make others happy, are precisely what I have 
 always wished to find in the society where I should fix. 
 And if the ardent desire of my soul should be gratified 
 in possessing the affections of one who possesses all 
 mine, where is the constituent of human bliss that 
 I should need? But let me moderate these anticipa- 
 tions of happiness ; let me remember that disappoint- 
 ment and affliction must still attend my weary pilgrim- 
 age. To you, my much-loved Mercer, I owe much, 
 very much. Your counsel has aided me; your sym- 
 pathy has soothed me ; your unwearied attentions and 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 179 
 
 exertions have contributed to restore peace to a dis- 
 ordered mind. Let me still, my dearest friend, enjoy 
 your friendship, and I shall have at least one worldly 
 comfort among its many, many sorrows. Do not think 
 of renouncing your plan of returning to Princeton : as 
 it respects advantages for study and means of enjoy- 
 ment, it is in every way most eligible. 
 • Remember me affectionately to your sister and the 
 rest of the family at Essex ; and when you have an 
 opportunity, let your friends at Salvington know that I 
 shall not soon forget their kind attention to me. 
 With much affection yours, 
 
 J. H. HOBABT.' 
 
 ■ Princeton, November Zlst, 1797. 
 My dear Mercer, 
 
 " I have been waiting impatiently to hear from you, 
 both while I was in Philadelphia, and since I came to 
 this place. I directed my letter to you at Fredericks- 
 burg, at which place you will doubtless be before you 
 come on; You see I am calculating on this event. 
 Indeed I believe it will be so instrumental to your im- 
 provement and happiness, that I am particularly desi- 
 rous of it. Your old room shall receive you. I will 
 welcome you with open arms, and you will enjoy hap- 
 piness from the society of those who esteem and love 
 you. Believe me, there are not a few particularly ear- 
 nest in their inquiries when you are coming. I have 
 received two kind and, let me add, tenderly affectionate 
 letters from Mr. Garnett and your sister. Oh! my 
 friend, what a luxury it is to me to enjoy the esteem of 
 the virtuous and the feeling ! I sometimes think I am 
 too desirous of it ; it makes my happiness depend too 
 much upon others ; it renders me tremblingly, and often 
 
180 MEMOIR OF 
 
 painfully aUve even to the appearance of displeasure in 
 them, and consequently to the smdlest error in myself. 
 But the society of your friends in Essex yielded me a 
 pleasure indeed unmixed with pain. I never think of 
 them but with emotions of tlie highest affection ; and 
 am only pained that it is not in my power to express 
 my feelings otherwise than by words. Let their own 
 goodness of heart supply what words must ever want. 
 Let me again express the interest I take in your return, 
 if yourself and friends should deem it proper. In no 
 place can you enjoy equal advantages for study ; in no 
 place, I think, will external circumstances be more 
 favorable to your happiness. True, it is our ft^st duty 
 to adapt our minds to our situation, and thus learn to 
 be content in any ; and I trust you will always endea- 
 vor to be so : but then we are not required, for the mere 
 sake of self-denial, to relinquish any real happiness. 
 Let then the enjoyments of a college life again be yours. 
 With the sincerest friendship, truly yours, 
 
 J. H. HOBABT.' 
 
 The following letters are from early compa- 
 nions, the most of whom are already familiar to 
 the reader : they afford, like the preceding, 
 pleasing proof of the feelings with which he was 
 regarded, and the continuance of those feelings 
 after the temporary tie of intimacy was broken. 
 
 New-Brunswick, March 20th, 1797. 
 Dear John, 
 
 I really imagined that a certain person would be- 
 fore this have stolen a few moments from business or 
 
BISHOP HOB ART. 181 
 
 sleep, to let a friend know whether he was dead or 
 alive J but the most confident expectations of man, as I 
 now learn, may be disappointed. It has been my deter-r 
 mination to be somewhat punctilious in conducting my 
 correspondence with a numerous acquaintance, espe- 
 cially at this time, when business crowds upon me. 
 But, somehow or other, I cannot be so with you, even 
 although you are indebted to me, and when I saw you 
 last, gave me a promise of writing. I have very little 
 time, however, now to write, as Scott is going imme- 
 diately ; but if this serves the end intended, I shall 
 make some expectation of a few lines by the bearer. 
 Dear John, excuse my haste : I long to hear how you 
 are. Remember me kindly to every inquiring friend. 
 The last Tuesday in April I shall be at Princeton ; but 
 as that will be in Vacation, I wish, if possible, you 
 could pay me a visit before that time, for I shall not be 
 able. Believe me sincerely your friend. 
 
 Ebenezee Grant.' 
 
 This is l,he last letter that appears from this 
 affectionate, single-hearted friend. His subse- 
 quent course, however, (the writer speaks from 
 his own knowledge,) was one of unpretending 
 ministerial usefulness. He removed to Bedford, 
 Westchester county, N. Y., where his virtues 
 secured the esteem of all, of whatever deno- 
 mination, and, among others, of one individual 
 whose regard was in itself a warrant of Christian 
 character, the late Governor Jay. There, un- 
 burdened by the cares of a family, and above 
 the fear of want by the inheritance of a pater- 
 16 
 
182 MEMOIR OF 
 
 nal property, he cared only for the spiritual in- 
 terests of those with whom he was connected, 
 taking up his sojourn among his parishioners, 
 wherever he found himself most useful, with an 
 apostolic simplicity that spoke equally for their 
 and his sincerity, and thus in humility he labor- 
 ed till called to his reward. 
 
 ' Philadelphia, August Zith, 1797. 
 My dear John, 
 
 I have always been so negligent a correspondent, 
 that I suppose you will be at least as much surprised 
 at recfeiving a letter, as at my Ibng ■ silence. While I 
 freely own I have no good apology to make, I can 
 assure you I never think of it without regret. It has 
 not, at any rate, been occasioned by indifference or 
 want of regard for you. The many testimonies of your 
 affection I have experienced, and the happiness I have 
 always felt in your society, have made too deep an 
 impression on my heart ever to be effaced ; so that, 
 although a mutual exchange of sentiments during sepa- 
 ration is agreeable, and a very natural consequence of 
 mutual friendship, I yet sensibly feel it is not necessary 
 to its continuance. I most sincerely sympathize with 
 you in the loss you have sustained in the death of your 
 much valued friend Forsyth. It must be a severe trial 
 to you : to his mother the loss will be irreparable. 
 She appeared jjassionately attached to him, and he was 
 doubtless looked up to as the hopes of the family. I 
 am sensible that indulgence of grief on your part is 
 unavoidable ; therefore I cannot blame it ; 3ret I trust 
 the reflection that it is the act of that Being who knows 
 best what is good for us, will moderate that sorrow for 
 
BISHOP HOEART. 183 
 
 your loss, which, while it is natural to feel, if indulged 
 to excess, would be hurtful to yourself, and distressing 
 to your friends — to those particularly whose happiness 
 seems centred in yours. With respect to Horsley's 
 tracts, I intended them for you ; they are entirely at 
 your disposal. I shall write again, and hope that my 
 long neglect will not deprive me of ' the pleasure of 
 hearing occasionally from you. 
 
 I am, my dear John, affectionately yours, 
 
 James Robertson.' 
 
 The following is a solitary memorial from one 
 whose name never again appears. It indicates, 
 at least, that the tutor was often merged in the 
 kind friend, even toward the dull or negligent 
 student. 
 
 ' Orangedale, September ith, 1797. 
 Respected Tutor, 
 
 I take the liberty to address you on a subject of 
 the greatest importance to me. It is to request you to 
 prepare my Commencement oration. I am sensible. 
 Sir, that I ask a great favor ; but the necessity of the 
 occasion urges me to it. Ever since examination I 
 have been thinkiDg to write it myself: my health, how- 
 ever, being impaired by a sedentary life, I found it 
 necessary to employ my time in riding, and visiting 
 my friends ; and thus deferred it, from time to time, 
 until this late hour. And now I am so indisposed from 
 a bad cold, that I find it impossible to write the oration 
 myself. I therefore make my first request to you, Sir, 
 in whom I have always found the strictest sincerity. I 
 wish only a short one. A few leisure moments in your 
 hands will amply suffice. Choose a subject most agree-* 
 
184 MEMOIR OP 
 
 able to yourself; it will not fail to please me. If finished 
 one Week or four days before Commencement, I shall 
 think myself exceedingly favored. In the course of 
 ten or twelve days I hope to be in Princeton. If you 
 can consistently with duty, oblige me at this time, I 
 know it will be done. If you do write my oration, I 
 shall consider myself bound to you by the strongest 
 lies of gratitude and friendship. 
 
 I am, Sir, yours sincerely. 
 
 P. Le C 
 
 Whether this lazy, grateful youth succeeded 
 in his request to be permitted to shine in borrow- 
 ed plumes, there are no evidences to show. The 
 easy nonchalance of the letter inclines us to hope 
 the reverse, and that his name appeared in the 
 handbills, on that occasion, with the usual sus- 
 picious note : — ' Mr. P. Le C ' Oration on the 
 danger of Procrastination.' 
 
 N. B. ' Prevented by indisposition from deli- 
 vering it.' 
 
 The next is from a living pen, and shows that 
 turn- for metaphysical speculation by which, in 
 after life, it has been honorably distinguished. 
 
 ' Edenton, January 5th, 1798. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 I always feel an inward satisfaction in unfolding 
 my sentiments to one whom I look upon as a true 
 friend ; and my satisfaction is increased when I remem- 
 ber that my friend is a Christian. * * * * * 
 • Every object here, whether animate or inanimate. 
 
BISHOP HO BART. 185 
 
 affords me pleasure. I sometimes converse a consider- 
 able time with a tree that in my infancy invited me to 
 play under its cool and refreshing shade ; and the old 
 dwelling in which I have spent the greater part of my 
 life, though at present unoccupied and falling into ruin, 
 raises within me such a musing train of ideas, that I 
 know not whether it be pleasing or painful. Now 
 whether it arise from an intimate association of ideas, 
 or from some qualities in the insensible objects them- 
 selves to create an affection, I shall not pretend to 
 determine ; but certain it is, that the love we bear for 
 objects incapable of making a return, seems always 
 more disinterested, and frequently affords us more last- 
 ing happiness, than even that which we feel toward 
 rational creatures. I have the pleasure to. inform you 
 that there is now a greater prospect of my being restored 
 to health than there ever was while I was at College. 
 Should my hopes of recovery now prove fallacious, I 
 shall be happy in being spared a few more days, that I 
 may devote them to the worship of my merciful God 
 and the service of my fellow-creatures. To our shame 
 we must acknowledge, my dear Hobart, that, in this 
 part of our country, religion is in a declining state. 
 The Holy Jerusalem doth indeed here droop her head, 
 and the City of the living God is destitute of inhabit- 
 ants. There is, however, a proportionately great field 
 opened in the pulpit for the display of talent. The 
 people possess, in general, generous and noble senti- 
 ments, have warm feelings, and are easily guided by 
 the powers of the orator. They are fond of acquiring 
 knowledge, but without the perseverance necessary to 
 arrive at perfection. Hence the poison of infidelity has 
 contaminated the minds of both rulers and subjects 
 among us. The works of Paine have done more inj ury 
 16* 
 
186 MEMOIR OF 
 
 to North Carolina, than ever the writings of Philoso- 
 phers have done it good. With love to all friends in 
 College, and praying that God may bless you, I remain 
 your friend and brother in Christ, 
 
 Fbedebick Beasley.' 
 
 The writer of the following appears to have 
 derived advantage from Mr. Hobart's kindness 
 or Christian counsel, perhaps both, though his 
 name appears in no other record that remains. 
 
 ' Canansburgh, 3d January, 1798. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Two or three weeks have passed since I was 
 favored with your kind letter of 22d of November. It 
 was exceedingly welcome, for we were waiting with 
 anxiety for one from you, and several times had been 
 at the post-office on that account. You are giving us 
 fresh proofs of what we have been long experiencing, 
 that you spare neither pains nor expense when you 
 have it in your power to oblige. I think I can with 
 sincerity say, that it would be one of my greatest gra- 
 tifications to repay benefits ; but I have been all along 
 so situated as much to need friends, and so highly 
 favored as to meet with many who have so loaded me 
 with favors, that it is certainly vain for me to expect, 
 by any returns I shall ever be able to make, to get clear 
 of my burden. Could I but believe and realize the 
 great truths of Christianity, as I think I have sometimes 
 done, it would give vigor to my soul, and opposing 
 mountains would sink into the dust ; but it is a truth 
 which I am every day learning by sad experience, that 
 never will I move in the Christian course without wis- 
 dom, strength and righteousness imparted daily from 
 on high. I am often so enveloped in darkness as to be 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 187 
 
 unable to feel the force of any one truth in natural or 
 revealed religion, or even my own departure from this 
 world, and existence beyond the grave. Mr. Hughes 
 joins with me in acknowledging an irredeemable debt 
 of gratitude due you. Your much obliged friend, 
 
 John Watson.' 
 
 'Philadelphia, February I5th, 1798. 
 Dear John, 
 
 In one of your letters you mention with satisfaction 
 the time we passed together in the store. If my com- 
 pany at that time afforded you any pleasure, or in any 
 degree alleviated the toils and fatigue of a business, 
 which I was always persuaded was not congenial to 
 your inclinations, I can say with sincerity it did not 
 surpass the pleasure I enjoyed in yours. Though the 
 ties of parental affection must be stronger than what 
 accidental attachment can inspire, yet I must say, that 
 no one can regret more than I do that you have been 
 for a long time past so great a stranger in Philadelphia. 
 You know my indifferent state of health and spirits ; 
 and though it may seem to border on extravagance, 
 it is not the less true, that the short periods you have 
 spent occasionally here within these two years, have, 
 besides the pleasure of your company, been attended 
 with beneficial effects. My happiness at the time 
 made me forget my complaints, and ray cheerfulness 
 continued after the cause was removed. 
 
 It is true, that the pursuits you mention would be 
 most agreeable to ray inclinsftions and conducive to 
 my happiness ; and the prospect of being able at some 
 future day to realize them, has animated me to perse- 
 vere in a business for which I never had any great 
 inclination. Though not so enterprising as some, I 
 
188 MEMOIR OF 
 
 have not I think been wanting in such attention as 
 both duty and interest required. It is with regret, 
 however, I must add, that our success has not been 
 equal to our exertions, and that the object of my 
 wishes is still at a great distance. Should we be, 
 however, tolerably successful for a few years, a plan of 
 life similar to what you mention would be my choice ; 
 and I can assure you, my dear John, that no part of 
 it would afford me more real pleasure than having 
 frequent opportunities of enjoying your company. 
 But whatever be my lot, I am sensible of the folly of 
 giving way to unavailing despondency, and shall en- 
 deavor to avoid it. There is no truth more firmly 
 impressed on my mind, than that we are all under the 
 care of a wise Providence, and that when we have done 
 our duty, whatever may be the result, we may reason- 
 ably conclude that it is what in infinite wisdom is 
 thought best for us. I am, my dear John, yours very 
 affectionately, 
 
 James Robertson.' 
 
 Such principles in a young man were cal- 
 culated to secure success, and the reader will 
 be pleased to learn that he attained it;* and 
 though he changed not, as his words would 
 imply an intention of doing, to the ministry of 
 the Gospel, it was, we may trust, from finding 
 that a pious layman is not excluded from being 
 a ' preacher of righteousness.' 
 
 The following is from a living friend whose 
 pen has been already drawn upon, and one who 
 
 * Jamea Robertson, Esq., President of the Richmond Bank. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 189 
 
 has fully redeemed the virtuous resolutions with 
 which it concludes. The error it laments is, 
 besides, one so common in our country, that 
 its strong statement may be of value in leading 
 to its correction. 
 
 ' Cincinnati, February 30, 1798. 
 My dear friend, 
 
 Your kind letter of the 31st December, though 
 directed to me at Newark, hath by the attention of my 
 good brother found me at this place. The happiness 
 I experienced on receiving it you can imagine better 
 than I can describe, for you know my heart, and I can 
 cheerfully forgive and forget your past omissions, as 
 you have now given me such a pledge of future con- 
 stancy. A perusal of your epistle enkindled in my 
 bosom those emotions of joy and delight, which a 
 remembrance of former companions and past scenes 
 of innocent amusement and instruction are ever wont 
 to inspire. The bare mention of ' Nassau Hall' gives 
 me pleasing and grateful sensations. I shall ever feel 
 a thankful attachment to that Seminary, which I view 
 as the palrent of the chief happiness I expect to enjoy. 
 Frequently have I lamented that my years were so 
 few and my judgment so tender, while there, that I 
 was incapable of either knowing or reaping those 
 advantages which I now find the institution is caK 
 culated to give. My case was perhaps that of many 
 others. I had then an affectionate, fond parent, whose 
 only delight was to give happiness to his children, and 
 render them useful to mankind. Through a blind but 
 benevolent zeal, he wished to see his son a man while' 
 he was yet a boy, and his sanguine expectations anti- 
 cipated nature by at least two years ; so that I finished 
 
190 MEMO IK OP 
 
 my classical education just as it was time to commence 
 it. However, even my early education has not been 
 ■without some good effects : it has given me, if no more, 
 at least a relish for knowledge, which I trust will never 
 be satiated while I am on this side the grave. Be 
 assured of my esteem and friendship. 
 
 George W. Bdhnet.' 
 
 ^EdentoH, North Carolina, March 10th, 1798. 
 My dear friend, 
 
 That I should meet with a return of affection from 
 one of your warmth and generosity of feeling, I had 
 no reason to doubt. There is so close a connexion 
 between great talents and tender sensibility, that from 
 your possessing the former, I was confident you must 
 possess the latter also. His happiness is confined 
 within a narrow compass who can bring himself to 
 believe, that friendship is merely a name invented by 
 men to further the accomplishment of interested de- 
 signs. Such a man cuts himself off from one of the 
 greatest sources of enjoyment with which our Creator 
 hath blessed us. The exercise of our social aflFections 
 is always delightful ; but how exquisitely so is a pure 
 and disinterested affection — an affection founded on 
 respect, built up and completed by an accordance of 
 sentiments, of dispositions and pursuits. What music 
 so soothing as the voice of a sympathizing friend, 
 amidst the pains and misfortunes of a miserable world ? 
 Who like a friend can cheer us in the dark hour of 
 adversity, or brighten the sunshine of prosperity? 
 And here let me add, that religion, by spreading a 
 serenity over all our powers, renders us more tremu- 
 lously sensible to these amiable emotions; while by 
 regulating our faculties and preserving them in a due 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 191 
 
 proportion and subordination, it keeps ^he mind in a 
 fit tone for vigorous and useful exercise. 
 
 I am greatly indebted to Dr. Smith, and the Faculty, 
 for honoring me with an ofiSce of which I feel myself 
 unworthy. Be assured, that it is no small inducement 
 with me to return, that I shall enjoy the company 
 and conversation of such warm and animated friends 
 as Hobart-and Mercer. As it is my wish, too, to review 
 the Greek and Latin Classics, I shall accept of the 
 oflFer made me. The Faculty are perfectly acquainted 
 with the circumstances under which I am placed. I 
 shall therefore expect some indulgence beyond a teacher 
 tliat is in perfect health. Remember me to Mercer, 
 and with every wish for your happiness, 
 
 I am yours aflfectionately, 
 
 Fredbkick Beasley.' 
 
 To this somewhat romantic picture of friend- 
 ship it gives both truth and tenderness, to learn, 
 that amid the sorrows of after life, such a friend 
 he found in the individual here addressed. Moref 
 than once did Bishop Hobart fly to comfort and 
 console, one, who with a peculiar sensitiveness 
 of nature has been called to experience his full 
 share certainly of the sorrows of life, and the 
 ingratitude of the world. 
 
 The last letter, except to his family, that 
 appears of a date previous to the period at which 
 this narrative must close, is the following from 
 Mr. Hobart to his friend Mercer, in answer as 
 it would seem to one of more than ordinary 
 
192 MEMOIR OF 
 
 aflfection. From another pen the following might 
 be classed as among the extravagancies of boyish 
 romantic feeling; but knowing, as the biographer 
 has had good reason to know, the overflowing 
 and generous ardor of the heart that dictated 
 it, he does not fear to insert it as the picture 
 of a noble spirit that overleaped all bounds in 
 the warmth of its virtuous affections. 
 
 ' Pottsgrove, May I5th, 1798. 
 I cannot express to yon, my dear Mercer, the pleasure 
 I received from your letter. It spoke a language that 
 touched my heart, and excited all its tenderest affec- 
 tions. Friendship when sincere, it is said, burns with 
 a steady flame : its joys are even and tranquil, but 
 there certainly are moments when kindred spirits swell 
 their joys into rapture. In a moment of this kind, my 
 dear Mercer, you poured forth your tender expressions. 
 My soul united with yours, and though at the distance 
 of many miles, I pressed you to my bosom. My much 
 loved friend, I feel an affection at my heart too big 
 for utterance. The tender and amiable disposition of 
 heart that first attracted me to you, has appeared more 
 worthy of my love, the more I know of it ; and when 
 I found it united with the powers of genius, and firm 
 and noble principles, admiration and respect were joined 
 to affection. If therefore my heart -has fixed on you 
 with fond attachment, if I have delighted in your society, 
 and sought every means in my power to make you 
 happy, the impulse was natural, the exertion involun- 
 tary. But, my dear Mercer, I gave no counsel that 
 was not repaid with rich increase, — I gave no consola- 
 tion that was not poured back a hundred-fold into my 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 19S 
 
 own bosom. I owe to your goodness, to your prudent 
 counsel, to your sympathy, your tender and assiduous 
 attentions, all that I can ever owe to the most ardent 
 and faithful of friends, and I trust that neither the 
 chances nor duties of life will prevent many happy 
 meetings between us. But I have become familiar 
 with separation. My dearest friends have been torn 
 from me for life, and these mournful events, under the 
 counsels of religion, have moderated the violence of my 
 feelings. I now more fully realize, I trust, the duty of 
 resignation to God in all the events, and under all the 
 circumstances of life, teaching me to submit with holy 
 confidence to all his dispensations, and directing my 
 affections to that glorious state where my soul shall 
 be satisfied with the fruition of God, and where I shall 
 be reunited to those I have here loved. But perhaps 
 this composure is only vain confidence, and any severe 
 or unexpected trial would awaken as hitherto, sorrow 
 and repining. I already begin to regret that scene of 
 retirement and study I enjoyed at Princeton, where in 
 the society of a few select friends, the vain desires of 
 the world were shut out, and improving intercourse 
 enlivened our spirits. But I check these emotions as 
 inconsistent with my duty, and destructive of my peace, 
 and resolve to endeavor at least to be contented with 
 any situation in which I may be placed, while the 
 review of past scenes of happiness will ever be the 
 subject of my most soothing and pleasing thoughts. 
 
 College, I suppose, is again settled. May you ex- 
 perience in it both happiness and improvement. Few 
 are more indebted to nature than yourself, and the 
 assiduous cultivation of your powers, (to which indeed 
 you are so strongly disposed,) is the only way to repay 
 the debt, I am daily more sensible to the advantages 
 
 17 
 
194 MEMOIR OF 
 
 of your situation, and regret that my health and spirits 
 would not permit me to enjoy them longer. Something 
 more I now find is necessary to improvement than 
 retirement and leisure, or even a strong sense of the 
 value of knowledge. There' must be occasional con- 
 trasts with others to show us our defects, and to sharpen 
 our diligence — there must be literary conversation to 
 unbend the mind without dissipating its vigor — there 
 must be scientific meetings to compel us to investigate 
 useful subjects, and extend our knowledge of them. 
 All these you have at Princeton in greater perfection 
 than any where else I know of; and were it not im- 
 practicable ; I should even now resolve to spend there 
 two or three years more, unfettered by an ofiice, the 
 duties and cares of which while there absorbed my time 
 and bowed down my spirits. I am therefore -desirous, 
 my dear Mercer, that you should remain there as long 
 as with propriety you can. Do not sufier temporary 
 inconveniences, or even permanent ones, to make you 
 dissatisfied. We always think we shall do better in 
 some other situation than the one we are in. The dis- 
 advantages of a present situation are always felt, while 
 those of another are either unthought of or but imper- 
 fectly realized. I have often found this the case, at 
 least, I know with myself. 
 
 College scenes and engagements, our pleasant walks, 
 our cheerful meetings, often come over me with great 
 force, and occupy my thoughts, so that I find it neces- 
 sary in order to preserve contentment, to magnify as 
 much as possible my present or future advantages. 
 I wish much to pay you a visit, but know not when it 
 will be practicable. I shall expect with eager desire 
 to see you at Frankfort. In your society I shall ex- 
 perience a joy I have not felt since I left Princeton. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 195 
 
 The first Sunday in June is fixed on for my ordina- 
 tion. Whatever concerns me I know will excite your 
 affectionate interest, and you shall therefore hear of 
 all ; and be assured, my dear Mercer, that I am no less 
 anxious for your welfare and happiness. I am as well 
 as I had probably any reason to expect, though not as 
 well as I could wish, and in proportion as I can settle 
 my mind to perfect reliance on the Divine will, I am 
 happy. With you, my dear Mercer, I am persuaded 
 that this alone is the source of real happiness. 
 Your affectionate 
 
 J. H. HoBART.' 
 
 In this confidence of the perpetuity of virtuous 
 friendship, young Hobart speaks the genuine 
 feelings of our better nature — it is a noble 
 faith, and among the relics of primeval inno- 
 cence : that which in our attachments is ' of 
 the earth, earthy,' perishes vsrith all perishable 
 things ; but the pure affections of the soul are 
 a part of its essence, and cannot but endure so 
 long as it endures. Wisely placed, therefore, 
 and duly cherished, they form bonds which death 
 cannot sever, and sources of enjoyment fitted to 
 take their place, with reverence be it spoken, 
 among those which flow from God's right hand. 
 
 That Scripture does not expressly teach this, 
 is no argument against it ; it is sufiicient that 
 it does not oppose it, for Scripture itself was 
 not given to teach us that which the finger of 
 God had already written on the heart. 
 
196 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Thus gifted and conscientious, it is an inter- 
 esting question on what studies his mind was 
 principally bent during his second collegiate 
 residence. His official duties in college^ though 
 occasionally, it seems, both laborious and absorb- 
 ing, left him, in general, sufficient leisure for the 
 pursuit not only of professional but general learn- 
 ing, and also, though sparingly, for his favorite 
 relaxation, the academic contest of college de- 
 bate. The Society of which he now became a 
 member was known as ' The Graduate Society 
 of Nassau Hall,' being confined to residents 
 within its walls who had taken their first degree. 
 The subjects here discussed were naturally of a 
 higher order than those already alluded to, and 
 handled with an ability proportionate to the 
 riper years of the disputants. What they were 
 in the case of others can only be conjectured ; 
 but of young Hobart, fifty-five theses that remain 
 sufficiently prove the current of his mind and 
 thoughts, and open up to those who take an in- 
 terest in the speculation, the native bent of his 
 genius. Judging from these, than which there 
 can be no better test, all his natural tendencies 
 seem to have been to practical results : know- 
 ledge with him was for action, and action was 
 for influence, and influence was for public good. 
 What the Greeks meant by the term ifoKmxos, 
 (when used in a good sense,) will to the scholar 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 197 
 
 convey the most adequate notion of this temper 
 of mind. Of this character Aristotle gives the 
 picture. ' His ends were all without him — con- 
 nected with the welfare of the State, the Tribe, 
 the public, or the community to which he belong- 
 ed, in comparison of whose interests he felt him- 
 self but as a unit, and others but as instruments. 
 In prosecuting these ends he was all energy 
 and movement, bold, talented, and persevering. 
 Prompt in debate, courteous in reply, unbroken 
 by defeat, offending none, gratifying many, in- 
 fluencing all : these were the traits that fitted 
 him for acquiring influence in counsel; while 
 in action all were willing to follow one who 
 never deserted his friends, or receded from his 
 purposes, whose sagacity foresaw all difficulties, 
 and who had either prudence to avoid them, or 
 resolution to overcome them.' Now to this an- 
 cient portrait young Hobart had many resem- 
 bling traits, in talent, courage, and perseverance. 
 With such a mind, knowledge, it is evident, is 
 but a means : all knowledge, therefore, that 
 could not show its relationship to the duties of 
 life, met with but little respect at the hands of 
 this youthful leader, and certainly occupied but 
 small share of his voluntary attention. He 
 speaks indeed, in his letters, of the value he set 
 on the mathematical studies to which his duties 
 as tutor compelled hiih ; but it was evidently the 
 17* 
 
198 MEMOIR OF 
 
 language of a conscientioua spirit forcing itself 
 upon an uncongenial task. Such studies un- 
 questionably took but little hold upon his mind, 
 and left still less impression. Like a vigorous 
 sapling, it sprung back, when let go, from this 
 forced bend, to the form and direction which 
 nature had given it, and that was to the moral 
 and prudential questions of life and practice. 
 Physical science, for the same reason with the 
 mathematics, had little attractions for him : it 
 lay, as he thought, beyond the pale of man's 
 chief interest and daily business. The question, 
 'What is]' was ever therefore with him a 
 much lower one than ' What ought to be V 
 The former, as he argued, might make a man 
 knowing ; the latter made him wise and prudent, 
 skilful in governing both himself and others ; 
 and looking upon that as the great business of 
 life, he chose for himself, and in after life recom- 
 mended to others, the studies which discipline 
 the faculties, in preference to those which only 
 heap up materials. In short, his idea of the 
 educated man was much like the Stoic notion 
 of the happy one ; the perfection of both lay 
 rather in the course than the acquisition : just as 
 to run the race of duty with a firm, prudent, and 
 benevolent mind, that was the height of happi- 
 ness ; so to discipline the faculties to such a 
 prompt, vigorous, and sagacious exercise, as to be 
 
BISHOF HOBA.RT. 199 
 
 at all times ready to grapple with the practical 
 questions of life, that was the perfection of edu- 
 cation. Under this strong natural bent, it was not 
 every study that would tell ; even his classical 
 reading left much less impression on his mind 
 than might have been expected from his long 
 attention to those models of taste, both as 
 student and teacher : his thoughts never be- 
 came cast in their mould ; and finding, too, his 
 own pleasures in active duty, he underrated per- 
 haps their value to those whom nature has unfit- 
 ted for the bustling engagements of life, as a 
 storehouse of innocent, quiet enjoyment- The 
 reputation of high scholarship was consequently 
 neither claimed nor perhaps courted by him — a 
 circumstance that unquestionably reveals itself 
 in his style of writing, which, like his manner in 
 speaking, was too full of ardor and movement to 
 be esteemed perfectly classical or graceful. But 
 if this were a defect, it is one that belongs natu- 
 rally to a strong and full mind. His style, there- 
 fore, is energetic in spite of much difiuseness, 
 and clear in spite of much carelessness. The 
 impression it leaves is that of a strong current ; 
 though it cannot be denied that its power would 
 have been greater had it partaken more of that 
 concentration and precision, both of thought and 
 language, which may be termed the stamp of 
 scholarship, and which is rarely found apart 
 
200 MEMOIR OF 
 
 from familiarity with the classical models of an- 
 tiquity and admiration of them. If it be argued 
 that strength and justness of thought are inde- 
 pendent of such nicety, we can only reply with 
 the oft-repeated analogy, that though it be the 
 vigor of the bow which sends the arrow to the 
 markj it is the point and polish of the dart 
 which fits it to penetrate. 
 
 But if, under this long list of exclusions, it be 
 asked what he did value among his academic 
 studies, it may be answered in the words of the 
 statesman of old — those which might teach a 
 man how to make a little state a great one. To 
 train his own ihind to wise choices, and to prac- 
 tise it in the vigorous pursuit of what he deemed 
 public good, was with him more than a substi- 
 tute for book learning. His theses and disserta- 
 tions all give evidence of this : they are either 
 solutions of vexed moral questions, or an examin- 
 ation into points of practical policy. Among the 
 latter are several on the prospects of our national 
 Confederation, which, with a patriotism less 
 questionable than its sagacity, he contends to be 
 superior, by its compound and nicely balanced 
 structure, to all those causes which brought ruin 
 upon the simpler democracies of ancient times. 
 In moral questions he goes indeed to the root of 
 the matter, venturing on ' the nature and origin 
 of evil,' and evinces no contemptible power, for a 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 201 
 
 young student, in wielding the great argument 
 of final causes. Within the walls where the 
 great Edwards had taught and dogmatized, it 
 would not have become a pupil to be wanting 
 either in the hardihood to attempt, or in the 
 ingenuity to explain, in words at least, the 
 mysteries of our moral nature. It may not be 
 uninteresting to see how our young metaphysi- 
 cian grapples with this problem. The following 
 paper, from the bundle of theses, maybe taken as 
 a specimen. It appears to have been either an 
 outline of a written discourse, or else notes to aid 
 him in the discussion of the subject. It is as 
 follows : 
 
 Natwral Evil not inconsistent with the Perfections 
 of God. 
 
 1. Because the sum of good in the universe is greater 
 than the sum of evil. 
 
 2. Because the natural evil that exists is overruled to 
 wise and good purposes — the punishment of the morally 
 guilty, and the trial and perfection of virtue. 
 
 3. Because the apparent inequalities in the distribu- 
 tion of good and evil in this life will be adjusted in a 
 future state, where those who have suffered most here 
 will be rewarded in a proportionably greater degree. 
 
 4. Because the virtue and consequently the happi- 
 ness of man will be greater from having been the sub- 
 ject of trial than it would otherwise have been, it being 
 a clear and strong dictate of reason that the trial of 
 created virtue is necessary to its perfection. 
 
302 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Obj. An omnipotent God would have produ(;ed all 
 this happiness without any of this evil. 
 
 Ans. Was it necessary for Him to do so in order to 
 preserve his perfections 1 
 
 1. If those who suffer in this life will be proportion- 
 ably rewarded in the life- to come ; if natural evil is 
 made to perfect, and thus to increase the happiness of 
 virtue, what reflection is there remaining on the attri- 
 butes of God ? Are they not more clearly illustrated 
 and established by thus bringing good out of evil ? 
 
 2. There is an absurdity in the objection. The hap- 
 piness we are speaking of is the reward of that virtue 
 only which has been tried ; and therefore to suppose 
 that it could be annexed to any other virtue (if there be 
 any other virtue in a created being) is a contradiction 
 in terms. 
 
 3. The omnipotence of God is to be understood in 
 subordination to his own eternal reason ; and, as far as 
 we know. He is not pleased to consider any thing as 
 virtue in his intelligent creatures which is not, or has 
 not been, the subject of trial; and this supposition, 
 though it does not make evil necessary, makes it pos- 
 sible. 
 
 Obj. It may be said that the angels are not capable 
 of sinning ; and that the blessed, in a future state, will 
 be placed beyond the possibility of sinning. 
 
 Ans. We do not know this. Some of the angels did 
 sin ; while the happiness and indefectible virtue of the 
 blessed is the reward of that virtue which has been the 
 subject of trial, and not the original constitution of 
 their being. 
 
 All which considered, we may conclude natural evil 
 is not inconsistent, &c. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 20S 
 
 But further — Moral evil not inconsistent with the. 
 perfections of Gob. 
 
 1. Because man is under no necessary impulse to sin, 
 but in so doing acts freely. 
 
 2. Because the moral perfections of God are strongly 
 illustrated by the exercise of mercy and goodness in 
 the redemption of the virtuous, and of his justice and 
 holiness in the punishment of the vicious. 
 
 Obj. The omniscience of God foreseeing these actions 
 of man as a free agent, with infinite certainty, makes 
 them fixed and unavoidable. 
 
 Ans. There is a contradiction in the terms of the 
 objection. The actions are supposed to be free, and 
 yet are they asserted to be fixed and unavoidable. 
 The error lies in not considering that the actions are 
 supposed to exist before they are foreseen, or else that 
 they are not actions ; and they are foreseen, not as 
 fixed necessary actions, but as free actions. 
 
 Illus. A man commits a crime ; another standing by 
 sees him commit it ; but this seeing him has no effect 
 on the action. So is it with the omniscience of God. 
 
 ^. To say that the Deity foresaw that man would 
 freely sin, and therefore (even in appearance) to 
 impute sin to Him, (i. e. the Deity,) as its author, 
 because He did not prevent him from sinning, is a 
 contradiction in terms. If man freely sinned, God 
 could not without destroying his free agency prevent 
 his sinning ; and if man freely sinned, reason cannot 
 impute any blame to God. 
 
 The question should be first asked, Does man freely 
 sin ? If he does, guilt lies at his door only. But it 
 may be said, God foresaw man would sin, and might 
 have prevented it, and not having done it, his goodness 
 becomes chargeable ; but the answer is. If man freely 
 
204 MEMOIR OF 
 
 sin, there can possibly be no imputation on God. Why 
 God created man imperfect, is a question human 
 reason cannot answer ; but if he has created him for 
 the .enjoyment of happiness, and put tliis happiness 
 within his choice, and if he forfeits it by his own free 
 act, there can be no imputation on the goodness of 
 God. 
 
 The question, Why God has created man imperfect 
 and liable to err, and Whether the existence of moral 
 and physical evil can be reconciled with the perfections 
 of God, are different question;s. 
 
 Obj. God could have conferred the same degree of 
 happiness on man in a future state, without exposing 
 him to natural evil in this. 
 
 Ans. This is contrary to reason, which dictates that 
 suffering virtue will receive a greater reward than 
 virtue which has never been tried — never suffered. 
 
 As the most that can be offered on the subject is 
 hypothesis ; to the supposition that Omnipotence could 
 have made man happy without exposing "him to suf- 
 fering, I will oppose the supposition, equally plau- 
 sible, that God will confer greater happiness on man 
 in consideration of his suffering, than he would other- 
 wise have done. 
 
 On the whole, though reason cannot resolve why 
 God has created man, or made the world in its present 
 State in preference to any other ; yet in the state of 
 man or the world, she sees nothing inconsistent with 
 the perfections of God. 
 
 Hence we may conclude the existence of neither 
 natural nor moral evil can be shown, &c. 
 
 But the origin of evil in the nature of man, 
 is a question, which however disciplining to the 
 
BISHOP H B A R T. 205 
 
 intellect, is barren to the conscience, and was 
 not likely long to «BchaiQ a mind set upon 
 moral and operative truth. He seems, there- 
 fore, soon to have dropped the discussion. In 
 relation to this inexplicable mystery, the simple 
 language of Taylor contented him. 'Adam 
 turned his back on the sun and dwelt ia the 
 Dark and the Shadow.' So that instead of 
 troubling himself with the barren controversy 
 of its origin, he seems to have henceforth fixed 
 his thoughts on the practical question of its 
 remedy, and dismissing the evil of human na- 
 ture, to have cpntented himself with looking 
 into and laboring against his own. 
 
 Of the usefulness of such discussions, espe- 
 cially by the young, there will in general be 
 but one opinion, and that against it. Nothing 
 can at first sight appear more foreign, either to 
 the practical duties of life, or the humble spirit 
 of the Christian, than these subtle questions, 
 which Milton, evidently with a view to their 
 condemnation, puts into the mouth of fallen 
 angels. 
 
 ' Others apart sat on a hill retired 
 In thoughts more elevate ; and reason'd high 
 Of jffoviderice, foreknowledge, will and fate — 
 Ftx'd fate, free will, foreknowjedge absolute — 
 Aiid found no end, in wandering mazes lost. 
 Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy.' 
 
 18 
 
206 MEMOIR OF 
 
 But there is much reason to doubt the justice 
 of such condemnation. To the charge of meta- 
 physical studies being destructive of Christian 
 humility, we may oppose the opinion of one 
 who had sounded the depths of both. 'The 
 profoundest metaphysician,' says Robert Hall, 
 ' will in my opinion (cseteris paribus) be always 
 the humblest Christian.' And to the latter 
 charge we would reply, that as a matter of 
 fact, the most governing minds in every age 
 have come forth from this peculiar training 
 of the intellect. Such were Plato and Aristotle 
 in Philosophy ; Milton and Dante in Poetry ; 
 Burke in the Senate ; and to speak of our own 
 day, Robert Hall in the Pulpit. The recent 
 biography of the last named worthy has brought 
 this fact strikingly before us. By him and his 
 chosenfriend Mackintosh, whole days of academic 
 leisure were thus wasted, as most would term 
 it, on the banks of the Scottish Dee, in vain 
 endeavours to sound these unfathomable depths. 
 Yet what was the result 1 They emerged from 
 this wilderness of subtleties, not, as the arguers 
 against such studies would conclude, metaphy- 
 sical dreamers or speculative infidels ; but stern, 
 eloquent, and logical reasoners ; firm and heart- 
 felt believers ; with a depth of thought, a 
 richness of illustration, and a precision of lan- 
 guage, which belong to those only who are 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 307 
 
 inured to the habits of strict mental analysis. 
 To the same point, we may add, Cicero acknow- 
 ledges of himself, that his power came — ' non 
 ex Rhetorum officinis, sed ex spatiis academise,' 
 ' not from tlie workshops of art, but from the 
 schools of philosophy.' 
 
 But of moral studies as opposed to physical, 
 the triumphant defence was long since given 
 by one who was himself a striking example of 
 their influence. 'The knowledge of external 
 nature,' says Johnson, ' is not the great or fre- 
 quent"" business of the human mind. Whether 
 we provide for action or conversation, — whether 
 we wish to be useful or pleasing, the first re- 
 quisite is the religious and moral knowledge of 
 right and wrong. Prudence and. justice are 
 virtues and excellencies of all times, and all 
 places. We are perpetually moralists, but we 
 are geometricians only by chance.' 
 
 In our bustling republic, the study of meta- 
 physics is naturally enough regarded with but 
 little favor : it passes for a barren region which 
 bears no fruit, and deserves no cultivation ; yet 
 the laborer's toil, we should remember, maybe re- 
 warde4 by gold from the depths below, as well as 
 by the fruits upon the surface ; and when we see 
 eminently practical talent educed by such stu- 
 dies, there is unquestionably some reason to doubt 
 the correctness of first and popular impressions. 
 
208 MEMOIR OV 
 
 How this result takes place, we cannot tell ; 
 and yet perhaps it is not without its analogy 
 in external nature. Metaphysics is the science 
 of principles. As then we put seed into the 
 ground, and there come up plants ; thus we 
 sow in the mind principles, in order that there 
 may come up wisdom ; for that alone is to be 
 esteemed wisdom, which has grown up and 
 been nurtured in the mind itself: transplanted 
 knowledge being in comparison of it, but like 
 , rootless branches, which fade away so soon as 
 memory ceases to water them ; or at any rate, 
 like the stunted products of repeated removal, 
 taking no deep root, and sending forth no vigor- 
 ous branches. 
 
 Such unquestionably must be the conclusion 
 of the biographer of Bishop Hobart, since never 
 has our country brought forth a more practical 
 efficient mind within the sphere in which he 
 moved, and seldom has the youthful mind been 
 more turned to metaphysical speculation. But 
 to return to our narrative. 
 
 The scene of these discussions, as already 
 mentioned, was the Graduate Society of Prince- 
 ton, an arena filled at that time with no ordinary 
 proportion of talented young men, most of whose 
 names have been already given. 
 
 At such meetings, when the members chanced 
 to alight on knotty questions, or to be arranged 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 209 
 
 under well matched leaders, a protracted dis- 
 cussion ensued, and the contest seems often to 
 have been maintained through several successive 
 adjournments before a decision could be arrived 
 at. Such exercises could not be without their 
 inspiring influence, on a mind already by nature 
 prompt and sagacious ; and Mr. Hobart's sub- 
 sequent talents as a debater, in which he was 
 excelled by few, may fairly be traced to this 
 early discipline of his powers. 
 
 The only difficulty under which, as a speaker, 
 he then labored, arose from his keen sensibility, 
 which in this intellectual gladiatorship, like a 
 sharp handled weapon, sometimes pierced both 
 ways, wounding both him who gave, and hira 
 who received the thrust. As a debater, this 
 was doubtless a great fault, since it dropped the 
 shield from his own breast, and showed where 
 he was vulnerable. As a man, however, it 
 rather added love to admiration of talent, to find 
 the heart in a good cause sometimes turning 
 traitor to the head. This ardor of feeling, 
 though years moderated, no length of time 
 could wholly subdue ; and., through life it con- 
 tinued to break forth in all the trying scenes of 
 joy or sorrow, with a power overwhelming alike 
 to his own feelings and those of others. On 
 such occasions he was in truth ' the child' again, 
 and tears were his native language. This,-while 
 18* 
 
210 MEMOIR OF 
 
 it gave deep eloquence to his own effusions of 
 feeling, rendered him also peculiarly sensitive to 
 the same power in others. Of this, an instance 
 occurs to memory in after life. Being present 
 in court as witness, to give testimony to the 
 character of a young clergyman, the late Mr. 
 Thomas Addis Emmet rose to speak : it was 
 the first time the Bishop had heard him ; and 
 the very exordium of the orator overpowered 
 him. It was the picture of what the Christian 
 clergyman should be : this, clothed in all that rich 
 imagery, and uttered in those deep and impas- 
 sioned tones, which marked the eloquence of Mr. 
 Emmet, quite unmanned him.- His head sunk 
 on his hands, and so continued for some minutes 
 after the speaker had closed ; he then came up 
 to the present writer with streaming eyes, say- 
 ing, ' I know not how you have felt, but for 
 myself, I have not been able to hold up my 
 head since he began.' Such sensibility makes 
 eloquent ; it dictates instinctively what art can 
 only teach rhetorically. * His feelings,' says a 
 friend, speaking of his recollections of his ap- 
 pearance in this Society, 'were apt to kindle 
 quickly on every subject ; but this only gave 
 eloquence to his effusions.' 
 
 In the situation he then was, this sensitiveness 
 could hardly pass without trial, in a seminary 
 where the prevailing religious opinions were op- 
 
BISHOF HOBART. 211 
 
 posed to those which he conscientiously believed, 
 aud which, as a candidate for the ministry, he 
 felt himself called upon unhesitatingly to main- 
 tain. ' There was a class of us,' says Dr. Cald - 
 well, the friend above quoted, ' who were study- 
 ing theology at that time, under Dr. Smith, 
 Mr. Hobart was one of our number, and known 
 to be decidedly Episcopal in his views. He was 
 Arminian in his sentiments ; the rest of us were 
 CaJvinistic. He was always strenuous in every 
 thing which he deemed a peculiarity of opinion 
 distinguiahing him from others, whenever cir- 
 cumstances evolved it into view ; but we were 
 in the habits of the utmost forbearance and good 
 feeling. If at any moment a spark appeared, 
 struck out in discussion in consequence of pecu- 
 liarity of church or doctrine, it seemesd instantly 
 imderstood that it was to be permitted to drop 
 and disappear.' The language of Professor Mac- 
 lean, on this point, is more pleasing, and proba- 
 bly, at the same time, more exact. ' He was 
 alike distinguished,' says he, ' for his attachment 
 to the Episcopal cause, and for his liberality 
 toward Christians of all other denominations. 
 He now gave evidence of that zeal for his 
 church, and ability to defend her interests, 
 which so remarkably characterized the wjiole of 
 his ministerial life.' But, whatever were his 
 attachments, the principle on which he proceed- 
 
212 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ed in his studies evinces a sound and liberal cast 
 of mind. ' I mean not to leave any author,' 
 says he, ^ until I have made myself master of 
 him and his subject. My sphere of reading may 
 be contracted by this method, but it will certain- 
 ly not be made less improving.' His course of 
 residing, too, was the opposite of that which 
 would be chosen by a sectarian : it displays 
 alike independence and liberality, or, to speak 
 more justly, a mind imbued with the true spirit 
 of the Gospel, and seeking only to know the 
 truth. ' Dr. Smith,' says he, in one of his letters, 
 ' who is very attentive to me, seems to wish that 
 I should begin to study his system of divinity ; 
 but I am entirely opposed to studying any sys- 
 tem whatever, till I understand more of that 
 sacred volume from which all their conclusions, 
 if just, must be drawn. When the fountain is 
 open, why have recourse to the streams which 
 it supplies 1 Scripture seems too generally stu- 
 died in order to support preconceived opinions, 
 and perhaps this is the reason why so many doc- 
 trines inconsistent with it are maintained. When 
 the study of the Bible is gone through, systems 
 may then be advantageously taken up.' It is 
 due 10 Bishop White, who was his spiritual 
 adviser, to state, that in this course he was sup- 
 ported by his authority. ' Dr. White,' he adds, 
 • earnestly recommended it to me to study the 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 213 
 
 Bible, to form my opinions.' Such, too, is the 
 language of the Ghurch whose ministry he 
 sought : it teaches no system of divinity, and 
 imposes nothing but the Holy Scriptures ; ' so 
 that whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be 
 proved thereby, is not to be required of any man 
 that it should be beliieved as an article of th« 
 faith.'* 
 
 •• Christianity, so studied, cannot eventuate in 
 a sectarian system. Where truth is the only 
 object sought, there can hardly be bigotry in 
 opinion, least of all in matters of religion, since 
 he who thus studies the Word of God ca,n hardly 
 fail of imbibing its spirit also, and gaining grace 
 as well as knowledge. 
 
 - Thus much, at least, therefore, must be con- 
 ceded to the memory of Bishop Hobart, even by 
 those who most differed from him. His religious 
 convictions were drawn from the study of the 
 Bible : he openly and studiously rejected all 
 human authority in forming them ; and if he 
 arrived at the doctrines which the Church 
 teaches, it was still the Scriptures and not the 
 Church which taught them to him. But not 
 only in their source were his opinions scriptural ; 
 they were equally so in thespiHt with which he 
 
 * Article VI, — Of the sufficiency of the Holy Scriptures for 
 salvation. 
 
214 MEMOIR OF 
 
 maintained them. Even when most bitterly 
 condemned, he never confounded men with 
 principles. He would go to the death for the 
 maintenance of what he believed to be truth ; 
 but then he claimed for himself no higher sin- 
 cerity than what he allowed hi& adversaries, nor 
 ever transferred to their persons the hostility he 
 often felt' toward their opinions. He had no re- 
 spect, it is true, for what the world calls ' liberal- 
 ity' in religion. No wonder, then, that with the 
 world he was sometimes esteemed a bigot : it is 
 the fate of all who make truth their only aim ; 
 it was the condemnation of the early Christians, 
 they would not symbolize with the heathen 
 around them ; and it has never ceased, in what 
 is now termed the Christian world, to be the 
 condemnation of such as, in the same apostolic 
 spirit, hold to what they esteem scriptural truth, 
 without compromise and without wavering. 
 But if this be bigotry, what, we may ask, is 
 sound Christianity ? If to examine fairly, with- 
 out regard to human authority, and to hold 
 firmly, without respect to the world's opinion, 
 what the well-instructed and conscientious mind 
 arrives at in the study of the Bible, not denjring 
 to others an equal right to independent judgment, 
 and an equal share of conscientious scrutiny, — if 
 this, be bigotiy, then indeed was Bishop Hobart 
 a bigot ; but so also have been the Peters and 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 215 
 
 Pauls, and Luthers and Calvins, of every age. 
 But, on the contrary, if this be the course of 
 every candid, brave, and true spirit, then was 
 Bishop Hobart but another bright sample of 
 what Christians should be. Independence of 
 character marked his early as it did his latter 
 course : he stood up for what he thought truth 
 and right, no matter who opposed them, or what 
 obstacles stood in the way. Some sparkles of 
 this spirit seem to have been elicited even with 
 his revered friend and pastor, Bishop White, in 
 reference to the terms of his ordination. By the 
 canons of the Church, as they then stood, no 
 candidate could be ordained without what in 
 ecclesiastical language is termed ' a title.' A 
 call was consequently procured for him from one 
 of the neighboring country churches ; but when 
 he understood that it implied a permanent con- 
 nexion, he promptly declined it, on the conscien- 
 tious as well as prudential ground that the 
 congregation and he were mutually ignorant of 
 each other. His request for ordination, with the 
 freedom to look for a situation, was considered 
 irregular ; but, in answer, the idea was thrown 
 out that he might be admitted to orders on the 
 plea of his situation as tutor. This he still more 
 promptly rejected, on the score of its insincerity, 
 'not choosing,' as he observes, ' from many con- 
 siderations to remain longer in it.' The follow- 
 
216 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ing letters close the correspondence between hiiH 
 and the Bishop, which was drawn forth by these 
 unexpected impediments. 
 
 ' Princeton, December 8th, 1797. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 I had intended writing to you even before the receipt 
 of your letter. On referring to the canon you mention, 
 I find my first wishes cannot be gratified. I supposed 
 I might be permitted to preach where I received invita- 
 tions, holding myself responsible to the proper authority 
 for any infringement of ecclesiastical discipline ; at the 
 same time, as there was no congregation within my 
 knowledge to which I felt a particular predilection, I 
 thought I might be indulged in looking around me, and 
 fixing, with the approbation of my superiors in the 
 Church, where I supposed I could be most useful and 
 most happy. The canon, however, is contrary to this 
 idea ; and with respectful deference to the opinion of 
 those who framed it, I must be permitted to say that, 
 in my opinion, it imposes a great hardship on candi- 
 dates for the ministry — a hardship which, I believe, is 
 not felt in any other Church — obliging them to settle 
 before they can be acquainted fully with a congrega- 
 tion, or the congregation with their qualifications. The 
 plan I have suggested will, I think, comply in spirit 
 with the requisitions oif the canon ; but I really cannot 
 think of engaging permanently with any congregation 
 before I know their character and situation, and before 
 they can have that confi4ence in me which a discharge 
 of my duty among them^ for some time at least, can 
 alone inspirie. , 
 
 1 wouid wish you to believe'tliat the obedience I 
 shall ever choose to render to the authority of the 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 217 
 
 Church will be the dictate of dtity and affection ; and 
 that my own opinion shall ever be relinquished to that 
 of my ecclesiastical superiors, when it is not attended 
 with the entire sacrifice of my own judgment or hap- 
 piness. The kindness and care you have always shown 
 me will make me peculiarly anxious to secure your 
 approbation. I remain, dear Sir, 
 
 Very affectionately, &c., yours, 
 
 John H. Hobaht.' 
 
 The proposition contained in this letter he 
 subsequently modified to a twelvemonth's en- 
 gagement, and deferring orders until the Fall ; 
 which, after some discussion, was finally ap- 
 proved of. 
 
 Now in this matter Mr. Hobart unquestion- 
 ably was right, and the Canon wrong. The 
 requirement of ' a title' for ordination, had been 
 borrowed from the English Church, in which 
 it is no doubt a wise provision against the ad- 
 mission of superfluous numbers into a profession 
 at all times fully stocked ; but in a country 
 like ours, where the demand for ministers so 
 far outruns the supply, the precaution was alike 
 needless and annoying. It was wisely, there- 
 fore, modified in his case, and by subsequent 
 legislation entirely removed, substituting instead 
 a right of direction on the part of the ordaining 
 Bishop over those ordained during the period of 
 their deaconship. 
 19 
 
218 MEMOIR OF 
 
 The following is in answer to the proposition 
 
 as modified : 
 
 ' Philadelphia, February 9th, 1798. 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 Although the arrival of your letter at a period the 
 most distressing to myself and family,* must have 
 accounted to you for not receiving an early answer, 
 yet I certainly have let the matter rest much longer 
 than I intended. As it is now stated I see no difficulty, 
 and the matter appears in the same light to my brethren. 
 I have only to add, that nothing on my part shall be 
 wanting to your satisfaction ; and with my prayers, 
 that by Divine grace you may be directed for the best, 
 I remain yours very affectionately, 
 
 W. White.' 
 
 ' Princeton, February 16th, 1798. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 I am happy to find by your letter that my plan 
 is approved of by yourself and the clergy. With 
 your approbation, then, I will prepare against the 
 stated time of ordination on Trinity Sunday, and 
 commence my parochial duties as soon after as shall 
 be deemed proper. . My thanks are due to Dr. Smith, 
 for the interest he discovers in this matter. Your 
 uniform and kind attention to my welfare fully assures 
 me, that on this occasion every thing will be contri- 
 buted in your power to my satisfaction. 
 
 With sentiments of respect and duty, I am, dear Sir, 
 yours aflFectionately, J. H. Hobart.' 
 
 An incidental letter to his mother about this 
 time, while it shows her justifiable anxiety for 
 
 ♦The death of Mr. White. 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 319 
 
 his temporal interests, exhibits on his part that 
 disregard of money, when balanced against 
 duty or kindness, which equally marked him in 
 poverty and wealth. ' My dear mother,' says 
 he, ' does not seem properly to understand what 
 I wrote to Dr. White. I haye no intention of 
 remaining permanently with any congregation 
 that will not afford me a decent competence. I 
 only meant that I would not insist on this at first, 
 as a condition, before they knew m)' abilities, 
 or whether I would please them. I considered 
 also, that most of the Episcopal congregations 
 are in such a deranged state, as to need the 
 sedulous exertions of a settled minister to put 
 them in the way of affording a maintenance. 
 I would always wish my income from a con- 
 gregation to rest on the opinion they had of my 
 intentions and exertions. Thus explained, I 
 think you can have no objection to my senti- 
 ments.' 
 
 As appears by the following letter to his sister, 
 his early and favorite plan of a settlement in 
 Virginia had been for some time given up. This 
 scheme seems to have been suggested to him by 
 the attachment formed during his short visit to 
 the family of his friend Mercer ; but what 
 romantic feelings dictated, the more abiding 
 affections of his heart soon led him to abandon. 
 
220 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ' Princeton, February 'Zd, 1798. 
 If my dear sister had opposed even my strongest 
 wishes, the affectionate manner in which her reasons 
 were addressed to me, would have operated strongly 
 on my feelings ; but when my plans for life were far 
 from being settled, reasons thus drawn from the highest 
 motives of usefulness and duty, and urged by one 
 whose tender regard for my happiness I have so often 
 felt, could not fail of determining my mind. In the 
 hope then of uniting usefulness with that retirement so 
 valuable to me, both as it subserves study and cherishes 
 virtuous feeling, and with the strong desire of giving 
 happiness to -my friends, and deriving it myself from 
 all these sources, I have concluded to direct my views 
 solely to the congregations near the city, and will 
 inform Dr. White, that if they be willing I will engage 
 with them for a year. If this determination affords 
 you pleasure, I wish you to believe, that one of its 
 chief enjoyments to me will be the opportunities it 
 will afford of an interchange of affection with those to 
 whom nature and duty so strongly attach me. 
 
 In my plans, worldly objects have had but little 
 place. If this be an error, it is one which my feelings 
 make natural, and I believe invincible. A life in the 
 country can be, I believe, more happy than one in 
 the city ; and though I do not say that no considera- 
 tions will induce me to submit to the latter, yet they 
 must be those of high commanding duty. In an unre- 
 served and affectionate intercourse with my near con- 
 nexions, mutually bestowing and receiving all kind 
 and tender ofRces, and more especially reclining with 
 confidence on some sincere and feeling'friend ; — such 
 are the enjoyments which I desire. Scenes of bliss 
 like the last, have for a moment delighted me, and 
 
BISHOP HOB^RT. 221 
 
 passed away ; it is only in a higher state of being that 
 I can hope for the permanent possession of them. 
 
 There is no duty more in unison with my ifeelings, 
 nor of stronger obligation, than that which regards the 
 tender parent to whose solicitous and unwearied care 
 I owe so much. All the comfort I can afford her will 
 not compensate her kindness and goodness to me. 
 In her faithful discharge of duty to us all, there is, 
 I trust, in reserve for her, much higher happiness tha^ 
 she can receive here. 
 
 I shall not be aj)le to make the necessary preparation 
 for taking Orders until the fall ; but as I mean to leave 
 College in the spring, I shall have an opportunity of 
 pursuing in part, at least, your plan for me of relaxa- 
 tion and exercise. I often anticipate with lively feel- 
 ings, the society of my friends, of which of late years 
 I have had so little. ****** Your last son has a 
 peculiar claim from being named after me, but I will 
 not promise to love him better than the rest. May 
 my dear sister derive all that happiness from her 
 children, of which her affection and care make her so 
 truly deserving ; thus prays your affectionate brother, 
 
 J. H. HOBART.' 
 
 The letter of Mrs. Smith to which this is an 
 answer, unfortunately is not preserved, but the 
 good sense and piety displayed in all her letters, 
 demand some little notice of the writer. Re- 
 becca (Hobart) Smith, was at this time his 
 only surviving sister, being his senior by at 
 least thirteen years. The misfortunes of her 
 youth, having lost both husband and child 
 before the twenty-fifth year of her age, had 
 19* 
 
222 M0MOIR OF 
 
 early •toatuied her Christian character, and 
 made her a wise as well as tender counsellor, to 
 her more ardent, if not more sensitive brother. 
 In iier second marriage with Mr. Smith, worldly 
 prosperity opened upon her, but it seems only 
 to have widened and deepened the stream of 
 Christian feeling. Many benevolent labors are 
 recorded of her ; among others, the origin of the 
 Philadelphia Society, for the relief of destitute 
 widows. Her mind, though calm and practical, 
 Was not destitute, we may conclude, of enthu- 
 siasm ; since her poetic effusions were widely 
 circulated, and highly praised in the literary 
 circle in which she moved : while the eidogium 
 passed upon her after death by Dr. Benjamin 
 Rush — that she had ' a mind elevated at once 
 by nature, education^ and religion,' will be suffi- 
 cient warrant that she must have been a woman 
 far above the ordinary rnark of female talent 
 and attainment. 
 
 Of the fitness of Mr. Hobart for the sacred 
 office upon which he was now about to enter, 
 little doubt can be entertained by those who 
 have traced him through the course of his early 
 years. In all academic studies, wherever placed, 
 he had stood pre-eminent ; but these he little 
 valued except for their bearing upon spiritual 
 character. 'The improvement of the heart,' 
 said he, ' should be the end of all our acquire- 
 
BISHOP ho9|art. 223 
 
 ments, and to no purpose are we madfe wiser, 
 if we are not also made better men.' His theo- 
 logical attainments too, however inferior to his 
 own demands upon himself, were such as called 
 forth the high approbation of his examiners. 
 ' His signal proficiency,' observes Bishop White, 
 referring with his characteristic modesty to this 
 period, ' although the fruit of his own talent 
 and industry, yet I have ever since pleased 
 myself with the hope that he may have derived 
 some little aid from what it occurred to me to 
 suggest to him.' But 'whatever may be thought 
 of his intellectual proficiency, in that preparation 
 of heart which he most sought, and without 
 which all other is valueless, there can be no 
 question ; and his own doubts, so often and so 
 feelingly expressed, only strengthen the con- 
 viction, that he was in truth inwardly called 
 and fitted by the Spirit of God, for that career 
 of Gospel usefulness he was destined to run, but 
 yet trembled to enter upon. * It pleases God,' 
 says he, writing to a dear friend, ' and O how 
 grateful should I be to him for it, to continue 
 to me a deep impression of the necessity of 
 repentance ; to give me daily convictions of the 
 danger of living in this world, without being 
 prepared through the merits of a Saviour to 
 leave it ; and also constantly to direct my view 
 to another in which my happiness or misery 
 
M&M IR OF 
 
 dependf upon the use of my time and talents 
 here:' ' Far am I,' says he again, 'from think- 
 ing that I am quaUfied for the ministry, either 
 in mental or spiritual acquirements. I want 
 every requisite ; but by the goodness of God, 
 I may at last obtain those qualifications which 
 will fit me for entering on it.' 'Sacred and 
 awful will be my duties ; the grace of God can 
 alone enable me to execute them. O pray 
 with me, that in my entrance on this important 
 office, I may have a single eye to his glory, and 
 the salvation of immortal souls ^- pray that he 
 would subdue within me every desire of honor, 
 emolument, or human praise ; and that I may 
 serve him with sincerity and truth.' ' I am 
 afraid,' he again adds, ' that my views are not 
 suflSciently pure for the ministry — that I have 
 not suflSciently in view the ends for which it 
 was instituted; but I hope that God for Christ's 
 sake will bless me, and that he will make me 
 in his hands the humble instrument of turning 
 many to righteousness.' 
 
 With such preparedness he came forward, and 
 on Sunday, the 3d of June, 1808, was admitted 
 to Deacon's orders by the same hands which had 
 received him at the font of baptism. Many cir- 
 cumstances concurred to make it a deeply affect- 
 ing scene. It was the church of his father's 
 age and his own youth ; it was the church in 
 
BISHOP HOBART. 225 
 
 which Jie had been baptized and confirmed, and 
 where all his early pious affections had been nur- 
 tured : he was surrounded, therefore, by all those 
 visible associations which on such occasions press 
 most home upon the heart. It was in the pre- 
 sence, too, of an only parent, an only brother, and 
 an only surviving sister. To have looked at that 
 moment upon his widowed mother must indeed 
 have touched his inmost soul, for that day was 
 to her the fulfilment of all her dearest hopes, the 
 completion of a thousand cares, and the reward 
 of as many anxious tears ; and if a blessing 
 may be won from Heaven by the aspirations of 
 human affection, we may confidently believe it 
 was drawn down on that day for such a son by 
 the trembling, grateful prayers of an aged Chris- 
 tian mother. His voice from the pulpit, when 
 soon after called upon to ascend it, must have 
 indeed sounded in her ears like ' glad tidings of 
 great joy ;' and whatever may have been the 
 effect of his discourse upon others, she at least 
 must have realized at that moment the truth 
 conveyed in the words of his text, ' Her ways 
 are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are 
 peace.' — Prov. iii. 17. 
 
 But the mention of the pulpit reminds the bio- 
 grapher that the ' early years' of Bishop Hobart 
 are ended, and his * professional' ones begun, and 
 consequently that his own pleasing labors must 
 now draw to a close. 
 
S26 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Such, then, is the picture eihibited of the 
 head and heart of John Henry Hobart during 
 the years, so often idly spent, of boyhood and 
 jouth. It is one the truth of which cannot be 
 doubted, since it is given in letters too familiar 
 to be insincere, and too numerous to leave any 
 thing untold which has a bearing upon charac- 
 ter : such letters, the prodlict of an age equally 
 unplanning and unsuspecting, when there are no 
 ends to gain, and no part to play, may be safely 
 taken as the genuine picture of native feelings, 
 and the character they give received as the true 
 character. Nor do these letters stand alone : 
 they are more than borne out by the undeviating 
 testimony of all who knew him. Respect for 
 his talents, love for his virtues, and admiration 
 for his whole charabter, seems to have been the 
 universal sentiment inspired by his course, at a 
 time when there could have been no motive for 
 concealment or exaggeration, either from fear or 
 flattery. 
 
 And what is the picture thus presented ? It 
 is that of a youth, fatherless from his infancy, 
 and in general removed from the watchful eye 
 of his mother : left, therefore, to himself and his 
 own guidance during those years when passion 
 is strongest and resolution weakest, yet pursuing 
 with undeviating steadiness the path of virtue 
 and honorable diligence ; no hour wasted, and 
 
BISHOP HOB ART. 327 
 
 no task forgotten, and yet no claim rejected of 
 sympathy or active kindness. Take his charac- 
 ter from his teachers, and he was the faultless 
 student ; take it from his companions, and he 
 was the true-hearted friend, guiding the igno- 
 rant, counselling the thoughtless, aiding the dis- 
 tressed, and improving all, making his friendship 
 to be esteemed by them an honor, and by their 
 parents nothing short of ' a blessing.' Thus 
 from his boyhood did his life run on, a limpid 
 stream and a straight-forward course : with no 
 rocks of passion, no eddies of indolence, no turbid 
 pools of vice, to deform, delay, or darken it. A 
 cheerful spirit was to him as flowers upon its bor- 
 ders, and a clear conscience like bright pebbles 
 at the bottom. 
 
 If it be now asked what thus raised him abov6 
 the ordinary follies and vices of his age, and 
 strengthened him 
 
 ' To scorn delight, 
 And love laborious days?' 
 
 how it happened that a high-spirited, talented^ ^ 
 and ardent youth, was never led into scepticism 
 by pride of independence, nor by conscious 
 talents seduced into indolence, nor by ardent 
 passion betrayed into vice 1 we can only point 
 an answer to that tone of heartfelt piety which 
 marked him from his tenderest years, and which 
 
228 BISHOP HOBART. 
 
 as he advanced became in all things his ever- 
 present and over-ruling motive — ' his boon 
 companion, and his strong breast-plate.' This 
 was the secret of his excellence and his strength, 
 enabling him, not only himself to vpalk uprightly 
 in slippery paths, but to lend a helping band to 
 others. It was indeed a piety of the true sort, 
 rooted in the understanding, and nourished' in 
 the affections, witnessed too by the fruits it 
 brought forth in the life, — a piety not of words 
 but of deeds, making his heart tender and his 
 thoughts kind — his feelings ardent in every 
 good cause, and his hand active in every deed of 
 benevolence, — a piety, too, not of proud human 
 philosophy, but of deep Christian humility, con- 
 seious of its own frailties, and laying hold with 
 fervent hope on a Christian's only confidence — 
 the atonement and mediation of a Redeemer, 
 
 Such is the picture of Bishop Hobart in early 
 youth ; and childish and unimportant as it may 
 be in many of its details, the Editor would yet 
 fain hope that it may not be wholly without use ; 
 that with his contemporaries it may confirm the 
 love and admiration of those who knew him, and 
 correct the misapprehensions of many who knew 
 him not ; and to the rising generation in the 
 Church, that it may furnish an attractive model 
 of whatever in youthful character is ' pure, love- 
 ly, and of good report.' 
 
Cornell University Library 
 BX5995.H6 M17 
 
 Early years of the late Bishop Hobart 
 
 olln 
 
 3 1924 029 459 009 
 
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