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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 ( SMITHSONIAN DEPOSIT.) 
 
 Chap lo'^ 
 
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 UNITED STATES OF America. 
 
MR. HAZARD'S DISCOURSE 
 
 BEFORE THE 
 
 > 
 RHODE-ISLAND HISTORICAL SOCIETY, 
 
 Jommrj! IStl), 184S; 
 
D I S C U E S E 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE THE 
 
 RHODE-ISLANB HISTORICAL SOCIETY, 
 
 ON THE EVENING OF 
 
 (ilttesiJati, iFanuarji 18tl), 18^8: 
 
 ' ON THE CHARACTKR AND WRITINGS 
 
 CHIEF JUSTICE r»TJRFEE, 
 
 BY ROWLAND G. TIAZAllD, 
 
 II 
 
 Member of the R. I. Historicul Society. 
 
 '^' 
 
 '-^xii3>' 
 
 PUBLISHED AT THE REQUEST OF THE SOCIETY, 
 
 PROVIDENCE: 
 CHARLES BURNETT, J R 
 
 18 4 8. 
 

 T. Albra, Printer. 
 
DISCOURSE 
 
 Gentlemen of the Historical Society: 
 
 This return of our anniversary, comes attended with circum- 
 stances, which awaken in our bosoms, the conflicting emotions 
 of exultation and Borrow. With its recurrence, the elate feel- 
 ings of patriotic pride with which we here listened to the last 
 annual discourse, again spring into being, with all their kind- 
 ling and elevating influence's. But with these feelings, comes 
 the painful reflection, that he who contributed so much to th6 
 glory of that occasion, is no more among us ; that the voice 
 which then so delighted and instructed us, is hushed in the si- 
 lent grave. 
 
 The events of that celebration may well form an era in the 
 history of this Society, and of the State. By an efl"ort, most 
 felicitous and powerful, the orator of that day so successfully 
 wrought all our past history — facts and principles — that little 
 seems left to those who may follow him in the same field of 
 labor. 
 
 The relations he held to this Society — his zealous efl'orts in 
 aid of its objects — the fact that he officiated as orator at thfe 
 last annual celebration, and then delivered the first of the con- 
 templated series of yearly discourses — the important and hon- 
 orable position he long held in the government of our State — 
 his conspicuous literary position — the general expectation of 
 the public, and the expressed wish of many of your number, 
 indicate the character, services, and writings of our late hon- 
 ored and beloved Chief Justice, as the prominent topic of this 
 discourse, and which could I do them any justice, would cer- 
 tainly form an appropriate and congenial theme for the occasion* 
 I am not however, insensible either of the difficulties of the 
 
task, or of my oWn inability properly to perform the duty 
 which the partiality of my friends has assigned me, and am 
 o])pressed by the conviction that others more immediately 
 connected, and more intimately acquainted with metaphysical 
 and legal science, would have better conceived, and better por- 
 trayed his services, in these important departments, than any 
 efforts of mine can accomplish. I feel my incapacity to do jus- 
 ice, even to my own conceptions of his vigorous mind and 
 philosophic spirit; but most of all, do I feel incompetent to pre- 
 sent to you any condensed and adequate idea of that towering 
 fabric of philosophy he embodied in '' Panidea," and which, 
 almost without figure of speech, may be characterized as an 
 intrepid effort of genius to connect earth and sky. 
 
 The intelligence of his death came suddenly upon us ; and 
 the acute sense of unexpected and unestimated loss, which at 
 first startled the public mind, reflection has now matured into a 
 calm, but deep felt conviction that it is irreparable. In recur- 
 ring to the events of his life, the most important of which seem 
 clustered round its close, our first feeling is that of keen regret 
 that his intellectual labours were thus suddenly arrested, just as 
 ^he had began to make his long hoarded thoughts known to the 
 public, with such promise of celebrity to himself, of lustre to 
 • our State, and of utility to the world. Another moment, and 
 we shrink, as from a danger which we suddenly perceive we 
 have narrowly escaped ; and rejoice that he lived to give us his 
 Commencement Oration, Panidea, and his Discourse before 
 the Historical Society. But for these, though he would still 
 have been long remembered as the amiable and talented citi- 
 zen, and the enlightened and upright judge ; and through 
 his " Whatcheer," his claim to poetical genius of no com- 
 mon order, would have been established ; his philosophical 
 abilities would have been known only in a limited circle, and, 
 even there, he might have been generally regarded as one pos- 
 sessed of mental powers which he was too indolent to use. 
 And this view would, perhaps, have been rather confirmed than 
 otherwise, by the unfinished versification of his poem. Now 
 how different ! The works alluded to, attest that the intellec- 
 tual labour and persevering efforts of his whole life must have 
 
been applied to the vigorous and ardent pursuit of philosophical 
 truth. They entitle him to a high place among those who 
 have devoted their best energies to the advancement of their 
 race. They are his title deeds to an enduring fame. Through 
 them, his voice will be heard over a realm so extensive, that 
 the time between their publication and his death was not suf- 
 ficient for the return of its echo from the nearest boundary of 
 the subdivisions of the wide domain. Had he been taken from 
 this sphere of action, before these fruits of his philosophical la- 
 bors had been matured, the voice of eulogy might have been 
 required to grace his exit ; while only that of friendship could 
 have done justice to his talents, and disclosed the industry and 
 zeal with which he devoted them to the advancement of truth 
 and the welfare of his race. 
 
 But he has now spoken, through his works, a language which 
 even eulogy need not wish to alter. I shall not then seek to 
 praise : nor is it my purpose to attempt to stir the fountains of 
 grief, already so deeply moved ; nor yet to assuage the sorrow 
 which this event has occasioned. But, I would avail myself 
 of the sensibility which it has naturally produced in the public 
 mind, to impress it with some of the lessons of duty, virtue, 
 and. wisdom bequeathed us by our departed fellow citizen. 
 
 When we can no longer profit by the presence, when we 
 can derive no further instruction and encouragement from the 
 flowing precepts, and living examples of the wise and good, it 
 is well to study such record of their thoughts, and meditate on 
 such mementos of their actions as may still be within our reach, 
 and give them that enduring place in the memory and aff"ec- 
 tions, which shall continue, as far as possible, their happy influ- 
 ences. Let their lives, perpetuated by the pen of the historian, 
 and their virtues, embalmed in the verse of the poet, still lend 
 attractions to pure principles, and incite to noble actions. 
 
 Nor let these humble and more transitory efl'orts to kindle in- 
 terest, in which we are now engaged, be wanting. The sympa- 
 thetic and social feelings, which make a part of our being, 
 seem to indicate these as the first appropriate mode of com- 
 memoration ; a means of at once manifesting our admiration 
 of the conduct, and our gratitude for the services of the de- 
 
ceased, and of securing, in frail material, the first impressions 
 of those models of character which, in some more enduring 
 form, we would transmit to posterity. To us, memory, vivid 
 memory, can still supply much, which they can only receive 
 through the labors of the painter and the sculptor, the his- 
 torian and the poet. Low indeed, degraded beyond all prece- 
 dent, must be the destiny of a people, when they shall cease 
 to profit by the lessons of their illustrious dead. Through all 
 time they have exerted the most powerful agency in moral, 
 political, and social regeneration. 
 
 And there is much, in the active life, and recorded thought 
 of the distinguished citizen, whose loss we now deplore, wor- 
 thy to be treasured up for the benefit of our own, and succeed- 
 ing generations. It is true, his fame, though it had long since 
 passed the boundary of his native country, and was extending 
 with a rapidity accelerated by his recent achievements in the 
 highest department of thought, had not yet become so brilliant, 
 or so universal, as to make the event of his death of marked 
 importance in distant lands ; yet the sphere of usefulness he 
 here filled, the place he held in the confidence and the affec- 
 tions of the community, the efforts he made to preserve and im- 
 improve our institutions, his influence on our local character, 
 and the glory he reflected on our literature, make it an occur- 
 rence of absorbing interest to the people of this State. If the 
 most notable event to the world is the arrival in it of a great 
 thinker, surely the departure of one whose labors seemed only 
 just commenced, must be of corresponding importance. 
 
 The themes suggested by his position and his writings claim- 
 ing our principal attention, we will present only a very brief 
 chronological statement of the events of his life. 
 
 Job Durfee was a native of Tiverton, and son of the late 
 Hon. Thomas Durfee, for many years Chief Justice of the 
 Court of Common Pleas for the county of Newport. He was 
 liberally educated ; and took his bachelor's degree at Brown 
 University, in the class of 1813. In May, 1816, some months 
 previous to his admission to the bar, he was elected a Repre- 
 sentative to the General Assembly from liis native town, and 
 
continued to be returned for the same place, by semi-annual' 
 elections, for five years successively. 
 
 At the March term of the Supreme Judicial Court for the 
 county of Newport, he Avas admitted to practice as an Attorney 
 and Counsellor in all the courts in this »State. In October 
 1820, he was elected, conjointly with the Hon. Samuel Eddy, 
 a Representative in Congress, and served through the 17th and 
 18th Congresses. Having failed of his election to the 19th 
 Congress, he was again returned by his fellow citizens of Tiv- 
 erton, (October 1826,) to the State Legislature, and was Speak- 
 er of the House, from October 1827, until May 1829. 
 
 He then declined a re-election, and remained in private life, 
 occupied chiefly with literary and agricultural pursuits, until 
 May, 1833, when he was once more returned to the General 
 Assembly. At the meeting of the two Houses that year, for 
 the purpose of election, he was chosen an Assistant Justice of 
 the Supreme Judicial Court, then consisting of three judges 
 of whirh'his former associate in Congress, the Hon. Samuel 
 Eddy, was chief. 
 
 In June, 1835, on the retirement of Mr. Eddy, he was chosen 
 to succeed him; and continued to be appointed to the place of 
 Chief Justice, by annual elections, during the existence of the 
 government under the old Charter, viz., to May, 1843. When 
 the government was organized under the new Constitution, he 
 was again elected to the same responsible station, and continued 
 in the discharge of its duties until the day of his death. 
 
 In less than three years after completing his collegiate course, 
 he entered into the service of the State ; and, with the excep- 
 tion of one period, of four years, was employed, the remainder 
 of his life, in one or other of the departments of her government. 
 I need not dwell on the ability and integrity with which he 
 discharged the various duties which thus devolved upon him, 
 nor on the unwavering confidence which, in every situation was 
 reposed in him by the public. It is interesting to observe, that 
 his speech in Congress, in 1822, on the apportionment of rep- 
 resentation, a question of much interest to this State, is m.arked 
 by that broad comprehensiveness which is so prominent a fea- 
 ture in his subsequent productions. 
 
8 
 
 But his services in the legislative halls of the State and na- 
 tion, though highly creditahle to him, appear unimportant, 
 when compared with those, which for fourteen successive 
 years, he rendered on the bench. 
 
 The duties of a judge are, perhaps, the most important and 
 delicate of any which are required to be performed in the oper- 
 ations of government. They demand the highest quali- 
 fications, intellectual and moral, aided by that practical wisdom 
 which is the result of profound study, close observation, and 
 mature reflection. 
 
 When the courts fail to perform their duties, the very founda- 
 tion of society is destroyed. The bad are no longer restrained. 
 The government no longer affords that protection, which is the 
 condition upon which the right of self-protection has been sur- 
 rendered to it by the individuals of the compact ; who, in such 
 case, of necessity, reassume that right. Much of the violence 
 in our frontier settlements, arises from the difficulties in ob- 
 taining redress for wrong, through the judicial tribunals ; and, 
 even in the older states, we have seen juries sustained by pub- 
 lic opinion, in refusing to convict those guilty of the highest 
 crimes ; because, it was supposed, the laws provided no ade- 
 quate redress for the injury which was the provocation to the 
 offence ; thus showing the prevalence of the sentiment, that 
 when the laws do not make such provision, the injured party 
 may resort to violence and take vengeance into his own hands. 
 These are terrible results of the absence of law, or of a lax 
 and inefhcient administration of its provisions, from which we 
 may learn how highly we should appreciate the protection we 
 derive from good government, but more especially do they in- 
 dicate the necessity of competent and well organized tribunals 
 of justice. Destroy the courts, and society is, of necessity, 
 dissolved into its original, uncombined elements, and strength 
 and artifice have lawless sway. The case may be yet worse if 
 the laws are badly administered ; for this may give fraudful ar- 
 tifice a greater advantage over unsuspecting, uncalculating hon- 
 esty, than it would derive from the total absence of laAv. 
 
 One step farther in this downward progression — let the courts 
 
be corrupt — and we reach that most deplorable condition of so- 
 ciety, in which the laws become but a weapon, and a most 
 fearful weapon, in the hands of the wicked, for the purposes 
 of oppression and destruction. 
 
 The judiciary then is the strong tie of society ; and in what- 
 ever aspect we view this essential element of government, its 
 importance becomes more and more apparent. The judge 
 must repress wrong, and protect every citizen by administer- 
 ing the laws which the legislature constitutionally enact for 
 that purpose. He must also protect the citizen from any leg- 
 islative infringement of the rights reserved or guaranteed *to him 
 in the fundamental law, which is the basis of the compact ; so 
 that, under our form of government, it may become the duty 
 of a judge to interpose his authority between one citizen and 
 all the rest of the community. It is not easy to conceive of a 
 position requiring more firmness and independence of charac- 
 ter. 
 
 The action of a judge must also often be based on abstruse 
 principles, known or fully apprehended only by the learned. 
 Both these causes have a tendency to place him farther than 
 any other officer, from the control of the people. 
 
 They perceive the impolicy of holding to strict account, one 
 whom they wish to act independently, and the absurdity of at- 
 tempting to judge of principles, which they do not fully com- 
 prehend. They refrain from measurmg by their own, the 
 judgments of one whom they have selected for the very reason 
 that he is best able to judge of the questions presented for his 
 official decision. This requires implicit faith in the ability and 
 integrity of those who are invested with judicial authority. 
 
 The great importance of an independent judiciary has long 
 been conceded, and is, indeed. Very obvious. How it is best 
 and most certainly obtained, is a difficult problem. It has gen- 
 erally been deemed necessary to provide large pecuniary com- 
 pensation, and to make the incumbent independent of the ap- 
 pointing power by being subject to removal from his office only 
 by impeachment for official misdemeanor. This, though in 
 the main working well, is not free from serious objections. 
 The usefulness of a judge may be very much impaired by the 
 2 
 
10 
 
 loss ol' pubhc confidence in his ability, or even in his integrity, 
 when he could not be successfully impeached. He may be- 
 come superannuated at an age when a general rule excluding 
 him, might, in other cases, deprive the state of the services 
 of her most able jurists. The mere uncalculating conscious- 
 ness of such security from the consequences of public disap- 
 probation, may remove a wholesome check upon individual 
 prepossession and prejudices and I may add, against those 
 sallies and caprices of judgment, which in some men, otherwise 
 unexceptionable, are engendered and encouraged by a sense of 
 freedom from the usual restraints on mental activity, by being, 
 as it were removed from the jurisdiction of other minds. 
 The person thus situated is liable, to some extent, to con- 
 tract mental habits similar to those of the isolated thinker, un- 
 restrained and uncorrected by collision and comparison with 
 the thoughts of those around him. This is the extreme of in- 
 dependence, when it becomes an evil. 
 
 The system in this State is peculiar; and though, thus far, 
 highly successful, cannot yet be considered as fully tested by 
 experience, Whether we have permanently secured, in its full 
 extent, the indispensible requisite of independence in our 
 courts, and at the same time guarded against the evils of that 
 system which has generally been thought essential to this ob- 
 ject, is still a problem, and one of no common interest to us, 
 and to all interested in government. It is wisely provided in 
 our Constitution, that the appointment of judges need not be 
 made a subject of discussion in the lisgislature, (which is the 
 appointing power,) except to fill a vacancy occasioned by death 
 or resignation ; thus, in effect, requiring some cause to be al- 
 ledged as a reason for any such discussion. This of itself, as 
 compared with appointments at stated periods, has practically 
 no little influence in making the office permanent : and so long 
 as our citizens are impressed with the importance of select- 
 ing suitable men to fill the bench, and of m.aking the office 
 secure to the incumbent while he discharges its duties with 
 ability and fidelity, our system will undoubtedly do well. 
 
 Under any system, the first requisite to an independent court 
 is, the selection of men of independent minds to constitute it. 
 
11 
 
 And this was a prominent characteristic of our late Chief Justice. 
 The constant occupation of his mind, in the investigation of 
 abstract truth, naturally led to habits of disinterested mental 
 action ; and no one can peruse his works without being struck 
 with the intellectual intrepidity, swayed by no authority but 
 reason, and restrained only by conscience, which is mani- 
 fested in his every thought. With this first requisite he united, 
 in an uncommon degree, other high qualifications for the station. 
 
 By some he has been thought deficient in juridical learning ; 
 but the information I have received from those better able to 
 judge, and better informed than myself on this point, leads me 
 to believe that this deficiency, if such it may be called, was 
 only in the minute knowledge of adjudged causes. On the 
 great mass of these, as mere authority, he seems to have set no 
 great value. They are undoubtedly often a very convenient 
 means of settling a new case, by the application of an old one 
 more or less like it, by a process of stretching and shortening, 
 making the old one do, and thus saving the intellectual labour 
 required to investigate and apply original principles to each 
 particular cause. 
 
 Judge Durfee was not willing to risk the rights of parties on 
 such uncertain ground ; but he diligently examined the opin- 
 ions of the great expounders of legal science, and attentively 
 scanned the reasoning by which their opinions were sustained. 
 
 As in philosophy, it was the habit of his mind to penetrate 
 to the ultimate, to ascend to the cause of causes ; so in judicial 
 investigations, he sought to go back to the law of laws, and to 
 draw from the pure original fountains of abstract justice the 
 general principles which should be applied to the particular 
 case in question. 
 
 For this process ho was eminently qualified by the compre- 
 hensiveness of his views, and his peculiar powers of combiua- 
 tion, of rigid analysis, and rational deduction. 
 
 Thus strongly armed by the reasoning faculties, .for the con- 
 quest of truth, he was hardly less strongly fortified against er- 
 rors by the intuitive perceptions and moral attributes. His 
 pm-e and elevated principles, his nice sense of right ; in 
 short, his enlightened consciousness, would do much to correct 
 
1^ 
 
 those errors in the processes of reasoning, to which the ablesfe 
 logicians are liable, and would still more certainly .prevent any 
 practically injurious application of the erroneous results. The. 
 faculty which thus perceives without reasoning to conclusions,i& 
 the sentinel of truth, guarding the mind against the wily ap- 
 proaches of error. It is the attribute on which the great mass 
 of mankind rely, and without which, a judge, whatever may 
 be his intellectual endowments and legal attainments, will fail; 
 to command the highest confidence of the community. With- 
 out the nice moral sense — the pure consciousness which give 
 sensibility to this faculty, enabling it to discover truth and de- 
 tect error in advance of the logical power, and to sit in judg- 
 ment on its processes, they will always apprehend, that mere 
 acuteness of intellect and juridical learning will sometimes en- 
 able a judge to make his way farther in error, while they also 
 give him the means of defending his position with plausible 
 and ingenious reasons, and of fortifying it with learned au- 
 thority. 
 
 Let it not then be overlooked, that with talent and learning,, 
 a judge should possess independence of character — a mind 
 trained to habits of disinterested thought — comprehensive 
 views — elevated morality — pure and enlightened conscientious- 
 ness, and a high controling sense of duty. 
 
 All these qualifications were concentrated in the mind and 
 character of Judge Durfee — and who would have wished such 
 a mind to look for light to the recorded decisions of inferior 
 pien ; decisions often hastily made, imperfectly reported, and 
 without such statement of the reasons for the opinions given 
 as would admit the application of the rational test. The plan 
 he pursued was dictated by a just sense of the responsibilities, 
 of his office, and shows, that even with the inactive disposi-, 
 tion ascribed to him, he spared himself no labor which duty 
 required. 
 
 In connexion with the independence of the judiciary, there 
 IS another part of our system well worthy of consideration — 
 and which appears, m a great measure, to neutralize all the 
 evil which might arise from the dependence of our judges on. 
 the appointing power. 
 
I allude to the small amount, olcomjieiiisatioii. which will al- 
 ways make the occupation of the bench, by one qualified for 
 it, rather a matter of favor liO the community, than of pecuni-. 
 ary advantage to the occupant. 
 
 Hie must take the place for other and higher considerations,, 
 from patriotic motives and a controling sense of duty. And it is 
 such men who act from such motives, who are especially want- 
 ed for this office. AVhile then in the s.election of a judge the 
 people tender him the highest and most unequivocal proof of 
 their confidence, and of their high estimate of his talents, wis-, 
 dom, and virtue, they have, in the sajcrifice to duty, which is 
 involved in its acceptance, a guarantee that their estimate is 
 correct, and their confidence well founded. 
 
 It is true such character on the bench is invaluable. Better 
 for us to pay any possible pri.ce than not have it ; and if paying 
 such price would ensure an object of such immense iniportance,. 
 we ought not to hesitate. But all experience teaches, that the 
 hope of obtaining high qualifications, and especially high moral 
 requisites, by the payment of large salaries, is illusive. 
 
 When the pecuniary compensation is an object to mercenary 
 office seekers, the choice must, almost of necessity, be made 
 from among them. They will crowd themselves upon the at- 
 tention of the public to the exclusion of modest merit, which; 
 is ambitious only to be useful.. 
 
 We all know the mortifying fact, that offices of profit are toQ 
 often filled, more with reference to claims for partizan seryicCj 
 or to apprehension of party injury, than to the fitness of the 
 applicants ; and we can hardly hope, that even the sanctity of 
 th,e judicial ermine would protect it from the desecrating touch, 
 of the irreverent base and selfish, if they saw any hope of 
 profiting largely by its pollution. Low salary then, seems 
 to fee a necessary accompaniment of that part of our plan which 
 makes the tenure of this office uncertain. 
 
 It perfects the system — introducing into it those checks and 
 balances which are essential to its harmonious movement ; 
 and, in fact, makes our courts as conipletely mdependent as 
 any mode yet devised. 
 
 It also brings with it the advantage of obliging the people to 
 
14 
 
 turn their aliention to the subject; whenever from death, resign 
 nation, or other cause, a place on the bench is vacant. 
 
 They must then look for a person to fill it ; and, in the very 
 difficulty thus created, they will learn properly to appreciate 
 the rare endowments for which they are obliged to seek* and 
 which, when thus obtained, they will not be prone to part with 
 for slight cause. 
 
 But it may be urged that whcu the proper qualifications are 
 found, the inadequate compensation will be an obstacle to ob- 
 taining them. We reply, that then they are not yet found. 
 
 The man who, to serve his fellow citizens in this most im- 
 portant and most honorable of all official stations, would not 
 forego the pursuit of wealth, and consent to live on an income 
 vhich though moderate, is still much above the average allot- 
 ment, does not possess the pure and disinterested patriotism — 
 the chastened but exalted ambition, the noble purpose of soul, 
 the self sacrificing and fervid devotion to duty which are the 
 requisites of the station. He is not the man marked by Heaven, 
 morally he is no.t higher than all the rest from his shoulders 
 and upwards. 
 
 When the proper person is selected, there is little reason to 
 f^.ar that he will decline the proffered honor, for he is appointed 
 in virtue of that high authority from which he has derived the 
 talents which designate him for the office, — talents, which he 
 will feel bounH to use in obedience to the commands of Him 
 Vho gave them. 
 
 In our limited territory, men of even less elevated views of 
 the duties which devolve on talent, might, in yielding their 
 consent to the solicitations of the public, feel that they were but 
 performing an act of kindness to their friends and neighbors, 
 and thus the feelings of friendship and local interests and at- 
 tachments would here reinforce the m^re enlarged sentiments 
 of patriotism and philanthropy. On this point we may derive 
 encouragement from the past. It is true that under our present 
 system we have had a very limited experience. Since its adop- 
 tion this is the first vacancy which has occurred on the bench. 
 
 But when we consider the peculiar mental character of the 
 la,te incumbent, the absorbing nature of those philosophical 
 
investigations which habitually occupied his mind — the rapt ifr- 
 ous delight he evidently derived from the contemplation of" 
 truth in her most etherial realms, and see him cheerfully de- 
 scending from this starry height — withdrawing his mind from 
 the sublimest problems of spiritual science to settle the petty 
 questions which arise in the ignoble strife and competition of 
 ordinary human affairs, — and that in thus giving thought, he 
 gave that which to him was beyond all price, w^e may well doubt 
 whether the duties of the office will ever require greater indi- 
 vidual sacrifices to public interest than have already been made. 
 
 Though these principles are most especially applicable to 
 those offices which require the highest moral requisites, they 
 apply with more or less force to all. 
 
 That very moderate official compensation lias alwa^'s been a 
 distinguishing feature in the system of this State, nlay have 
 arisen, in part, from the limited resources of small territory ; 
 but it seems most probable that it sprung spontaneously from 
 the truly democratic ideas which our ancestors incorporated in 
 the very inception of our government. 
 
 They deemed the souls of all men equally free ; and from 
 this root springs all other practicable equality. Hence it has here 
 ever been the custom to allot to our Senators, to the Governor 
 of the State whb presides at their deliberations, and to the of- 
 ficer who sweeps their legislative hall, the same moderate per 
 diem recompense. 
 
 This is practically illustrating the great principles of repub- 
 licanism — -practically teaching the momentous doctrine, that 
 the offices are for the benefit of the community, and not es- 
 pecially for that of the incumbents. 
 
 It is directly opposed to the doctrine, termed democratic, 
 which has obtained in many of our sister states, that the sala- 
 ries should be large, that the poor may be able to take office. 
 This doctrine presupposes that the officers of government must, 
 In virtue of their station, live in more expensive style than 
 their neighbors. And this, we are gravely told, is to make the 
 office respectable ; as if in this Republican and Christian land 
 respectability were measured by dollars and cents, or attached 
 to fine linen and sumptuous fare. 
 
u 
 
 Among the secondary principles wiiich'ckistoi' ai'ouild the lead- 
 ing idea of our State, I conceive there is none so important as the 
 one we are considering, — none fraught with such promise of 
 great resuUs to the nation and the world. If it Avere applied 
 to the officers of the general government, from the President 
 down, the power which official patronage confers would no 
 longer threaten our institutions. The Praetorian band of mer- 
 cenary office seekers would be dispersed, and make room for 
 tdlent actuated by patriotism. We should practically enforce 
 the great truth just mentioned, that the offices are for the ben- 
 -efit of the community ; and if the same principle could be 
 applied to our diplomatic corps, we should extend the moral 
 influence of these views beyond ourselves. Our foreign min- 
 isters, living in the style demanded by this system, would illus- 
 trate republican equality and simplicity, instead of servilely 
 pandering to a foreign state pageantry, which however impos- 
 ing and brilliant, is sustained at the expense of privation and 
 suffering to the great mass of tlic governed. 
 
 This single principle, that official service is to be rendered 
 from patriotic and philanthropic motives, has in it the power, 
 and if faithfully maintained, will no doubt eventually shake the 
 thrones of civil, ds the gradual extension of our leading idea 
 has already shaken those of spiritual despotism. If any one is 
 disposed to smile at the idea of our little State aspiring to the 
 proud, distinction of accomplishing such great results, let him 
 tecur to the time, when on its soil, and near this very spot, a 
 solitary persecuted man, cast out by his fellow men, and ex- 
 posed to privation and danger, still nurtured in his single soul 
 the great idea of a state where there should be spiritual free- 
 dom. Let him contemplate the progress of this idea as it has 
 become actualized in our State — has been incorporated into our 
 national government, and has more or less influenced every civ- 
 ilized nation on the globe — relaxing bigotry — restraining perse- 
 cution — restoring conscience to its rightful supremacy, and 
 then let him judge whether it be idle in us to nurture, in the 
 bosom of our little State, a principle promising such momen- 
 tous consequences ; and whether we may not trust for their 
 accomplishment to that energy which is inherent in all truth, 
 
ir 
 
 and especially in trnth consecrated by the sacrifice of selfishness 
 on the altar of duty. 
 
 These views also preclude the fallacy that good government 
 can be obtained merely by the f ayment of sufficient money ; 
 a fallacy which leads many to suppose they are fulfilling their 
 whole public duty when they contribute liberally to the pecun- 
 iary expenses of the social organization, and that they are 
 thereby absolved from the more indispensible contributions of 
 that personal thought and attention, without wliich the lib- 
 eral use of money will, almost of necessity, produce evil in- 
 stead of good results. 
 
 Such erroneous notions wither patriotism, and extinguish 
 enthusiasm for country. 
 
 But the association of high compensation with oliicial duty 
 has yet a farther reach, and causes many to suppose that in 
 withdrawing themselves from the cares of government, and 
 yielding their claims to a share of the incidental emoluments, 
 they practice a commendable generosity and self-denial. The 
 effect of this is to throw the affairs of government into the 
 hands of the mercenary, bringing official station into disrepute, 
 and making a disregard of public duties a conventional virtue. 
 
 That the salaries in this State are now practically at the 
 tight point, or that if so, circumstances may not require futiu'e 
 changes, I do not presume to assert ; but I am convinced that 
 the principle is correct, and that we shall find no plan which 
 insures so much respectability to office, or that will draw so 
 much talent and moral character into the service of the State 
 as the one we have adopted, which brings into action higher 
 motives than money can command. 
 
 The requisition which this system makes upon talent and 
 virtue, is in harmony with that precept of our religion, which 
 enjoins, that those who have freely received should freely give, 
 and may be regarded as a departure from the prevailing social 
 organization, in which selfishness is almost exclusively relied 
 upon as the stimulus to the performance of all duties. It is, so 
 far, an approach to that higher and better system, in which the 
 nobler sentiments of justice, benevolence and love shall become 
 the ruling principles of action. 
 3 
 
IS 
 
 There is unity in all truth ; and do we not find in the har- 
 inony of this principle of low salaries and its consequences, 
 ^ith the high truths of social science and revealed religion, as- 
 surance that it is itsfelf a verity, and a verity which we should 
 fondly cherish and vigilantly protect from the assaults of thatt 
 fcommon foe to all principle and virtue, temporary cfxpediency. 
 Though, at Several times, Judge Durfee wished to retire, hfe 
 was prevailed upon to continue in office, by those who saw th6 
 difficulty of flnother selection. He made the sacrifice cheer- 
 fully, for his love for his native State was ardent and constant. 
 It was not, however, that limited sentiment which is circum- 
 scribed by geographical lines, and which, though sufficiently 
 removed from selfishness to be esteemed as a high virtue, is yet 
 harrow, compared with that enlarged benevolence which knows 
 no local boundaries. In Judge Durfee, patriotism was but a 
 concentrated modification of the intehse interest he felt in the 
 whole humanity. 
 
 In our little State he sa^V much of future hope to the whole 
 i-ace, and with her leading ideas of liberty for his lever, he made 
 it the stand point from which he might, with whatever power 
 was in him, move the world. Perhaps, in the glowing fervor 
 of his attachment, he invested it with somfe of those ideal per- 
 fections which warmed his vivid fancy, and excited enthusiasm 
 in his ardent mind. But under the influence of that Cahn spirit, 
 which is the characteristic of a, mind trained to high and en- 
 nobling conceptions, he stiXv our State trying the experiment of 
 self-government under new circumstances, with the new ele- 
 ment of soul-liberty incorporated in its whole system, and mod- 
 ifying all its institutions. From an element so obviously con- 
 genial to civil liberty he argued even more than from the sig- 
 nal success of the experinient for two centuries. He saw in 
 this first realization of a great idea, " a liberty which implied 
 "an emancipation of reason from the thraldom of arbitrary 
 " authority, and the full freedom of enquiry in all matters of 
 " speculative faith." 
 
 He saw that in asserting tliat " Christ was King in his own 
 Kingdom," our ancestors had virtually denied the legitimacy 
 of all ptptftnlers to the spiritual throne, and had thus proclaim- 
 
10 
 
 ed the downfall of religtou« despotism, and wjtii it the niosi 
 galling and hopeless form of civil thraldon^t and oppression. He 
 traced the great central idea of our State, fjFom its first feeble 
 manifestations in the individual opposition of conscientious 
 martyrs to the usurpers of spirituial authority, through the bold 
 Waldenses, the heroic spirits of the reformation, and the dcr 
 voted pilgrims of New-Engl^md, until it became here the ac- 
 knowledged principle of a government ; and began, in a sys- 
 tematise Bianner, to work ouf those practical results to which 
 all true thought, however abs;traGtj continu9,lly tends as its rar 
 mote but certain effect. 
 
 Ill view of the great importance of tl^is principle, and the 
 fidelity and vigilance with which it was guarded by our aur 
 cesstors, it seemed to him a sacred trust which Heaven had coi,!- 
 fided to their car© for the benefit of ^11 fujure ages ; aud he de^ 
 lighted, in imagination, to trace its progressive influence o}\ the 
 happiness of the whole human race. 
 
 He saw too, that witji the Rhode-Island notions of govern.- 
 ment engrafted on the principle of religious liberty, our aii^cesr 
 tors had successfully guided the State between ,the two ex- 
 tremes of licentiousness and arbitrary authority, keeping on 
 that safe ground of liberty regulated by rational la^ws, which i$ 
 equally removed from anarchy on the one hand, ^nd from ty- 
 ranny or unnecessary lestraint on tiie other. And when, in hi§ 
 own time, he saw the State in danger of being driven from this 
 middle ground by the influence of other notions of libertyj 
 which having obtained in our sister states, had gradually gained 
 a foothold in this, he felt that a crisis had arrived, the event of 
 which might very much retard the progres;, of rational liberty. 
 The germ which had been so carefully protected and nurtured 
 into vigorous growth was about to be destroyed. He was 
 aroused by the emergency, and leaving his quiet home repair- 
 ed to the scene of agitation, and put forth all his energies to 
 support the institutions of the State, and save it from anarchy 
 and civil war. 
 
 This is not the proper time^ or place, to question or defend 
 his views on this subject, and I mention the circumstance only 
 •da indicatin:-^ the intense interest he felt in all that concerned 
 
20 
 
 ihe welfare of the State ; but more especially in the perpetuity 
 of those leading ideas of her government, which he deemed so 
 important to the progress of the world. This attachment to 
 the State, and hope in her principles, are presented iii his His- 
 torical Discourse, in language which must make every Rhode- 
 Island bosom glow with patriotic pride. The reader will there 
 find that while our State has, on all occasions, been the pioneer 
 of freedom, she has also been foremost in those commercial 
 and mechanical pursuits which have contributed so much to 
 individual comfort and national prosperity. 
 
 She first asserted perfect religious freedom. 
 
 In the revolution she passed the first legislative act, and 
 struck the first blow for civil liberty. 
 
 She was the first to brave royalty in arms, and the first to 
 cope with that navy whose prowess had made it the terror of 
 the world : and Vviien the great struggle for national existence 
 was successfully terminated, she furnished in her past history 
 the model of that constitution which was to cement the union 
 and crown the triumph. 
 
 While agriculture was here pursued on a magnificent scale, 
 Newport was early pre-eminent in commerce, and at a later 
 period Providence led the way in manufacturing enterprizes. 
 
 ''In what then," to use the language of the discourse al- 
 luded to, '■ in what then, has Rhode-Island fallen short of the 
 "high promise given by her fundamental idea? Is she not 
 '' thus far, first among the foremost in the great cause of Liberty 
 "and Lav/ ?" 
 
 Let Rhode-Island men ponder on the glorious past, which 
 they will find delineated in this notable discourse, till from the 
 fervid patrotism which inspired its author, and dictated its elo- 
 quent pages, they derive a kindred ardor, and firmly resolve; 
 by being true to themselves, and to the great principles of the 
 State, to retain the proud pre-eminence, which, by a firm 
 and steadfast adherence to these principles, has already been 
 achieved. 
 
 In this wo may profit by other precepts and suggestions of 
 the same work. We arQ there taught that we have a sure ground; 
 of hope in ourselves and that we may rely on the sound 
 
21 
 
 maxims and practical good sense, which are the basis of the 
 institutions, by which we have been self governed for two cen- 
 turies, enjoying at once more perfect liberty, and more perfect 
 security than were ever before attained by any social organiza- 
 tion. 
 
 And we are there warned not to be led away from our own 
 principles, by following the example of other states, in their 
 wild pursuit of a social organization, in which there shall be 
 liberty without restraint ; the pursuit of an organization which 
 shall be no organization. But let me repeat this lesson of prac- 
 tical wisdom, in his own words. He says : " It has been the 
 " fortune of Rhode-Island Irom her infancy to the present hour 
 "to balance herself between liberty and law, to wage war, as 
 " occasion might require, with this or that class of ideas, and 
 " keep them within their appropriate bounds. And before cer- 
 " tain other states, some of them not fairly out of their era-;- 
 "dies, undertake to give her lessons of duty in relation tq 
 " such ideas, let me tell them that they must have something 
 " of Rhode-Island's experience, and have, like her, been self- 
 '' governed for centuries." Shall such counsel be lost upon 
 us ? Shall we, recreant to our own honor, and to the high 
 trust which has thus descended to us, desert the principles 
 which have thus far made our career so glorious and so useful? 
 Or shall we not rather resolve to cling to them, and still press- 
 ing forward, continue the worthy pattern of other states in- 
 stead of their servile imitator. Our longer experience in self- 
 government, and our limited territory, both favor our being the 
 model state, 
 
 Let this be our ambition, and while looking with steadfast 
 
 hope on the future, let us not be unmindful of the teachings, 
 
 or the glory of the past. From these we may derive wisdom 
 
 to direct, and enthusiasm to give energy and noble purpose to 
 our efforts. 
 
 For the means of taking a retrospective view of our past 
 history, and the principles it inculcates, we are much indebted 
 to the efforts of many of the members of this society ; but no 
 pne has perhaps done so much to give our history and princi- 
 ples a popular and attractive form as Judge Durfee has accom- 
 plished in his Whatcheer, and in his Historical Discourse. 
 
22 
 
 One of his principal objects in writing the former of these 
 works, as stated by himself, was to invest our history, and the 
 principles and spirit of Roger Williams, with the interest 
 which poetry can throw around its subject, and through its po-r 
 tent influences, imprint them on the memory, and make them 
 familiar to the popular mind. The same object is manifested 
 in his prose writings, and especially in the discourse just men-, 
 tioned. 
 
 The importance he attached to the preservation of these 
 principles, and the institutions which had grown up under 
 them, and the glowing fervour with which they inspired his 
 3^rdent mind, are strikingly and eloquently pourtrayed, in his 
 official charge to the grand jury in March, 1842. 
 
 It has been remarked by intelligent observers in other states, 
 that Rhode -Island is culpably regardless of her fame ; and 
 there is so much of dignity, and of magnanimity to admire, in 
 jthe willingness to perform great actions without levying appro- 
 bation, or being solicitous for the renown which should follow 
 ithem, that I can hardly find it in my heart to wish it otherwise. 
 But still a proper regard to the influence of those actions, as 
 well as justice to those by whom they were performed, may 
 prescribe the duty of making them known. This is strongly 
 urged in the Discourse alluded to. 
 
 Speaking of the " Rhode-Island idea of government," he 
 says, " I now ask you, fellow-citizens, whether there be not that 
 " in its history which is well worthy of our admiration ; and 
 '^ that in it which is still big with destinies glorious and hon-^ 
 " orable ? Shall the records which give this history, still lie un- 
 '' known and neglected in the cabinet of this Society for the 
 " want of funds for their publication ? Will you leave one re^ 
 " spected citizen to stand alone in generous contribution to 
 '' this great cause ? I ask ye, men and women of Rhode-Island ! 
 " for all may share in the noble eff'ort to rescue the history of 
 " an honored ancestry from oblivion. I ask ye, will you allow 
 " the world longer to remain in ignorance of their names, their 
 " virtues, their deeds, their labours, and their sufferings in the 
 " great cause of regulated liberty ? Aye, what is tenfold worse, 
 '•' will you sufl"cr your children to imbibe their knowledge of 
 
i2g 
 
 '' their forefathers from the Ubelous accounts of them given by 
 *' the Hiibbards, the Mortons, the Mathers, and their copyists ? 
 " Will yoil allow their minds, in the germ of existence, to be- 
 *' come contaminated with such exaggerations, and perversion 
 " of truth, and inspired with contempt for their progenitors, 
 "and for that State to which their forefathers' just conceptions 
 '^ of goi'^ernment gave birth ? Citizens ! — be ye native or adopt- 
 '' ed, I invite ye to come out from all minor associations for the 
 '' coercive development of minor ideas, and adopt the one great 
 " idea of your State, which gives centre to them all ; and, by 
 '' hastening it onward to its natural developments, you shall 
 " realize your fondest hopes. Let us form ourselves into one 
 " great association for the accomplishment of this end. Let 
 " the grand plan be, at once struck out by a legislative enact- 
 " ment, making immediate, and providing for future appropria- 
 *' tions ; let the present generation begin this work, and let 
 " succeeding ones, through all time, go on to fill up and perfect 
 " it. Let us begin, and let our posterity proceed to construct 
 " a monumental history that shall, on every hill, and in every 
 " vale, consecrated by tradition to some memorable event, or to 
 " the memory of the worthy dead, reveal to our own eyes, to 
 *' the eyes of our children, and to the admiration of the stran- 
 " ger, something of Rhode-Island's glorious past. Let us forth- 
 " with begin, and let posterity go on to publish a documentary 
 " history of the State ; a history, that needs but to be revealed^ 
 " and truly known, in order to be honored and respected by 
 " every human being capable of appreciating heroic worth. 
 " Let a history be provided for your schools, that shall teach 
 " childhood to love our institutions, and reverence the memory 
 " of its ancestry ; and let myth and legend conspire with his- 
 " tory truly to illustrate the character and genms of ages gone 
 " by, and make Rhode-Island all one classic ground. Let a 
 " literary and scientific periodical be established, that shall 
 " breathe the true Rhode-Island, spirit defend her institutions j 
 " her character, the memory of her honored dead from defama- 
 " tion, be it of the past or present time ; and thus invite and 
 " concentrate the eftorts of Rhode-Island talent and genius, 
 " wherever they may be found. Let us encourage and patronis** 
 
" our literary institutions of all kinds, from the common school 
 '' to the college — they are all equally necessary to make the 
 " Rhode-Island mind what it must be, before it can fulfill its 
 " higli destinies. Let this, or other more hopeful plan, be 
 " forthwith projected by legislative enactment ; and be held up 
 " to the public mind for present and future execution, and 
 " we shall realize by anticipation, even in the present age, 
 " many of the effects of its final accomplishment. It will fix 
 " in the common mind of the state, an idea of its own per- 
 " petuity, and incite it to one continuous effort to realize its 
 " loftiest hopes." 
 
 "If Rhode-Island can not live over great space, she can live 
 '' over much time — past, present, and to come — and it is the 
 " peculiar duty of statesmen to keep this idea of her perpetuity 
 " constantly in the mind of all." 
 
 This is a strong appeal, fervidly urging us to perform an im- 
 portant duty. But I apprehend the deep interest in the preser- 
 vation of our past history which dictated it, may have led its 
 'author to overlook, for the moment, an object no less dear to 
 hirri, and to recommend what might, and very probably would 
 lead to encroachment on onr State principles. I allude to his 
 appeal for aid from the legislature. 
 
 As a State, we have generally been careful that legislative 
 action should not interfere with those matters which are more 
 properly the subjects of individual duty. A liberal construc- 
 tion of our leading principle of soul liberty, covers this ground. 
 We would give to conscience the freest possible scope. Let us 
 not then narrow the limits for the performance of those actions 
 which a conscientious conviction of duty demands. Let us not 
 encroach on that sphere in which patriotism and philanthropy 
 are nurtured, and in which they find their appropriate field for 
 vigorous and invigorating activity. 
 
 When a people are accustomed to look to the government 
 for the accomplishment of every desirable public object, the 
 glowing sentiments which should animate them are lost in a 
 soulless abstraction ; public spirit degenerates to a mere state 
 pride, and individual devotion to country, having no object for 
 
2f, 
 
 its practical application, or development, becomes, in popular es- 
 timation, but a romantic absurdity. 
 
 These views are confirmed by analogies drawn from the 
 system which Divine wisdom has established. If the supreme 
 governor of the world left no good to be performed, no difficul- 
 ties to be surmounted by individual effort, how would virtue be 
 developed, or find occasions for its exercise ? 
 
 It may be said, that when union is required, the government 
 is already organized, and ready for efficient action ; but there is 
 a wide difference in favor of the moral effects of a combination, 
 in which every individual unites from a conscientious convic- 
 tion that it is his duty to aid in the accomplishment of the con- 
 templated object, and that in which the many find themselves 
 accidentally and incidentally acting without thought, interest, 
 or volition ; or, perhaps, with a feeling that they act only by 
 compulsion, against their judgment or their will. 
 
 This objection, that state interference prevents the develop- 
 ment, or impairs the influence of patriotic sentiment, applies 
 even to objects universally) admitted to be beneficial, but which 
 could be as well accomplished by private action. If, however, 
 it be a fact, (the hypothesis even seems a libel) — if it be a fact 
 that there is not enough of public spirit among us to accomplish 
 the object alluded to in the passage I have quoted, I am not 
 prepared to say, it would not become the duty of the State to 
 preserve that past history which is our common inheritance, 
 and which it is our duty to transmit to succeeding generations. 
 But in thus assuming the guardianship of this portion of ex- 
 perimental knowledge, let it be careful not to encroach more 
 directly on our principles by becoming the propagators of spec- 
 ulative doctrines, — political, philosophical, or religious. They 
 are nearly related to each other. The political creed is engen- 
 dered by speculative philosophy, which in its turn is nearly al- 
 lied to theology. 
 
 Will it be said that it is the duty of a free state to sustain 
 and propagate those views which insure its own perpetuity 
 and its own stability ? This is the plea of despotism, and the 
 very foundation of the Church and State doctrine. A free 
 government, must conform to the progress of speculative ideas 
 4 
 
26 
 
 as they become sufiiciently firm for its foundation. Despotism,' 
 which does not thus conform, is Hable to violent convulsions, 
 and is stable only when there is no such progress. Similar 
 convulsions also attend premature efforts to change a govern- 
 ment in advance of this progress of speculative ideas, or before 
 they have been fully developed in the popular mind. 
 
 If any legislators suppose the power of government may be 
 used to secure its own permanency by directing this progress, 
 let them first essay the more easy task, and try if by legisla- 
 tive enactment they can roll back Niagara's flood, or arrest the 
 thunderbolt ; and in the reflection, that the latter has been ac- 
 complished by science, they may learn that however important 
 and beneficial in its appropriate sphere, the action of govern- 
 ment is temporary and impotent, compared with that mighty 
 current of ideas which has its sources in the abstract investi- 
 gations of the philosopher, and the deep revolvingS of the met- 
 aphysician. 
 
 In his Historical Discourse, Judge Durfee selected as appro- 
 priate to the occasion, a purely Rhode-Island theme. It was 
 also one congenial to his feelings, and he here appears emphat- 
 ically a Rhode-Island man. But it is not as her statesman, 
 her Judge, her patriotic historian and enthusiastic eulogist, 
 that we would choose to portray the great features of his mind, 
 and we now come to the consideration of those works by which 
 he extended himself beyond all local boundaries, and became 
 a citizen of the world ; or, in view of the almost boundless 
 range of his thoughts, I might rather say of the Universe, and. 
 of that Universe which mind alone pervades. 
 
 His first appearance as an author was in the poem entitled 
 Whatcheer,* taking for his subject the settlement of this State 
 by Roger Williams. It is one of the few American poems 
 which have been favorably noticed in the foreign reviews, and 
 been republished in Europe. In the somewhat mechanical 
 part of versification, it is deficient. Its rhythm is not always 
 smooth ; but tested by the true criterion of poetry, the power 
 of bringing real or imaginary scenes vividly to the mental per- 
 
 •Since writing the above I have learned that a poem of his,entitled "the Vision of 
 Petrarch," recited before the United Brothers' Society of Brown University in 
 1814, was published at that time. 
 
27 
 
 ception, and the consequent powev of producing lively and iiir 
 tense emotion, it will be found to possess poetic merits of a 
 very high order. 
 
 The subject well deserved to be immortalized in song ; for 
 history records few events fraught with more important results, 
 than the successful establishment of a state based on religious 
 freedom ; and few acts more truly heroic, than that of its 
 founder encountering, in the depth of winter, the perils and 
 hardships of a journey through the pathless wilderness, and 
 trusting to the favor of savage tribes already irritated by the 
 encroachments of the whites, rather than do violence to his 
 conscience by renouncing his principles, or even refraining 
 from propagating them. The adventures of his journey, and 
 of his intercourse with the Indian tribes, are vividly depicted 
 and the reader will often find his interest wrought to a painful 
 intensity. But the sentiment most powerfully excited by the 
 whole work, is that of admiration for the unconquerable spirit 
 with which the hero of the poem adheres, in every adversity, 
 to the noble and lofty purpose, to which through life, he devo- 
 ed all his energies. This appears to have been the author's 
 principal object, and this, it seems to us, is most hq,ppily accom- 
 plished. 
 
 The next publication from his pen, was an Oration before 
 the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Brown University, delivered at 
 the Commencement anniversary in IS43. 
 
 The leading idea of this work is, that the course of events 
 in this world is mainly determined by its deep thinkers, acting 
 through the medium of scientific invention and discovery. 
 It is presented with much force of argument and happy il- 
 lustration, revealing one of the most consoling views which 
 philosophy has ever presented to the popular mind. How en- 
 couraging to reflect, tliat the errors of legislation, the folly of 
 infatuated rulers, the miseries of war, the success of national 
 fraud, and the supremacy of violence, are but temporary and 
 local counter currents and eddies in the great tide of events, 
 which moved by the mighty impulses of thought, is still flow- 
 ing resistlessly onward. And how inspiring to the philanthro- 
 pist to find that his efforts to advance the happiness of his race 
 
28 
 
 if directed by mature reflection, can only be very partially, 
 and for a brief space, neutralized by the perverse action of 
 thoughtless folly, vice, and ignorance. 
 
 His next and most important publication is entitled, " Pan- 
 idea, or the Omnipresent Reason considered as the creative and 
 sustaining Logos." The title has been thought unfortunate, 
 but it probably conveys as correct an idea of the contents of 
 the book as any which could be selected. It embodies his philo- 
 sophical views, and is evidently the result of long and patient 
 study and deep meditPtion. 
 
 It appears indeed, to have been the final product of the float- 
 ing thoughts of his meditative life, suddenly precipitated, as 
 by some galvanic spark, and clustering in symmetrical order 
 around his central idea, which combined all the infinitude of 
 particulars into entireties, and in the last analysis merges these 
 entireties in the unity of the Reason or Logos. 
 
 This converging of his ideas into a regular system, was pro- 
 bably not long anticipated even by himself, and may be regard- 
 ed as one of those delightful surprises, which occasionally re- 
 ward and cheer the solitary labors of the patient metaphysical 
 enquirer, as the Aloe, after its century of constant, but almost 
 unobservable growth, suddenly matures the beautiful flower, 
 which imparts comeliness and grace to its rugged strength. 
 But his thoughts had evidently long tended to the formation 
 of the system in which they eventually took order. His poem 
 is slightly tinged with its peculiar doctrines, which in a more 
 practical form, are very observable in both the other prose 
 works to which we have alluded. It dawned in his Com- 
 mencement Oration, and its setting rays, reflected in his HisT 
 torical Discourse, were the last his luminous mind shed upon 
 our path. ^ 
 
 In proceeding to the consideration of this work, allow me to 
 dwell a moment on some objections which have been urged 
 against it, and some charges to which it has exposed its author. 
 
 In the first place, it is said to be profoundly metaphysical, 
 and therefore of no utility. We admit the charge, but we by 
 no means concur in the inference. We are aware, that to manv. 
 
29 
 
 the term metaphysics carries with it repulsive associations with 
 all that is dark, intricate, and bewildering in thought. 
 
 There is much diversity in the definition of the term, but it 
 is popularly applied to abstract investigations of the nature of 
 existence and the causes of change^ but more especially to the 
 nature and phenomena of the ultimate efficient cause — mind. 
 Why then this popular repulsion? Is there nothing in those 
 faculties, by which we are distinguished as rational and intelli-- 
 gent beings, to stimulate our curiosity and induce examination? 
 Nothing in those general abstract principles, which embrace all 
 particular knowledge, to render their possession desirable ? Is 
 it nothing, that such inquiries, at least furnish a fair field for 
 the healthful and invigorating exercise of the intellectual fac- 
 ulties — a retreat for the mind, from the annoyances, intrusions 
 and selfish influences of bustling life, to calm and disinterest- 
 ed thought, strengthening all its noble faculties and nurturing 
 ail its holy aspirations for truthful acquisitions. 
 
 If, as it seems reasonable to suppose, the great object of the 
 universe is to furnish a means to discipline and improve the 
 spirit, how imperfect the system, without this provision for the 
 study of its own nature and its mode of action. But indepen- 
 dent of the gratification and improvement of the individual 
 student of metaphysics, it reveals us important truths ; many 
 of them, as might be expected from spiritual science, nearly al- 
 lied to the consolations of religion; and related to its divine 
 revelations, as the finite to the infinite mind. To what pur- 
 pose are we told that the spirit is immortal, if we are to know 
 nothing of its attributes and its susceptibilities to pleasure or 
 pain. From the dearth of such inquiry — the total absence of 
 a proper infusion of metaphysical thought in the popular 
 mind, it has ever, in its notions of a future state, fastened on a 
 material Heaven, and a material Hell, as the ultimate of its 
 conceptions of happiness and misery. It is this deficiency, 
 which causes a religion to be popularly attractive, in propor- 
 tion as it addresses itself to the senses, and which makes the 
 sensual paradise of the Mahometan, more influential in produc- 
 ing consistency of belief and conduct, than the spiritual joy 
 which is promised in the Christian's Heaven. 
 
30 
 
 Wc have already alluded to one very consoling and encour- 
 aging result of metaphysical research, as the subject of one of 
 Judge Durfee's works, and we may add that his definition of 
 a State, so important in its practical application to the political 
 rights and duties of governments and of citizens, was a direct 
 and immediate consequence of his abstract speculations on the 
 doctrine of entireties, of which it is only a particular case.* — 
 So that if metaphysics has not that peculiar utility which is in-, 
 tended by the objectors, it has still higher claims, and will no 
 doubt be pursued while "the heart of him that hath under- 
 standing seeketh knowledge." But are such objectors aware 
 of its direct and important connections with the immediate af-r 
 fairs of life ? Do they consider, that a great portion of all the 
 honest persecution which the world has endured, has arisen 
 from a metaphysical error as to the relations between belief and 
 the will ; and that next to the influences of religion, a compre^ 
 hensive knowledge of the eff'ects of vice on the mind would be 
 the surest guarantee of virtue. But the argument may be 
 brought much closer to the utilitarian. 
 
 Trace all the recent great mechanical improvements and disr 
 coveries to their source, and we shall find they emanate from 
 the abstract metaphysical thought which Bacon wrought out, 
 or collected and embodied from the labors of more remote, and 
 even more purely abstract metaphysical thinkers. The meta- 
 physician is, in this respect, the central point from which, when 
 we advance beyond the instinctive, all action radiates. He is 
 the necessary antecedent to the mere philosopher. Bacon 
 furnished the key which enabled Newton to unfold the mys- 
 teries of the material universe, and he gave direction 
 ^o I^ocke's inquiries into the spiritual nature. His metaphysical 
 researches revealed a method, and gave an impulse to material 
 science ; which, in its widening progress, has influenced all the 
 efforts of mankinds from the philosopher to the simplest arti- 
 ficer and laborer. 
 
 Steamboats, railroads, and magnetic telegraphs are but a por- 
 tion of the grand result ; and when the whole ground is seen, 
 
 * This definition has since been made the foundation of a very able^ argument, 
 by a very able constitutional lawyer, in a cause before the Supreme Court of the 
 United Stu'.cs. 
 
31 
 
 i apprehend it will appear scarcely less absurd in those who are 
 benefited by these improvements, to question the utility of 
 metaphysical inquiries, than for a man eating bread to ask the 
 use of cultivating grain. Such people would have the im- 
 provements without the pre-requisite thought, the grain with- 
 out sowing or reaping. They may^ by some chance, find the 
 one growing spontaneously, as the other may be discovered by 
 accident or unguided search. I conceive it would not be diffi- 
 cult to show that the power of England, disproportioned as it 
 is to her area, is the result of the influence of her deep abstract 
 metaphysical thinkers. Without them her soil and climate 
 might have produced strong bodies, but she would have want- 
 ed the animating soul which has made her what she is, and 
 sustainis her at a point, from which, this wanting, she would 
 precipitately fall. 
 
 The advancement of speculative philosophy, and of abstract 
 science, must of course be but a progress of ideas. But these, 
 in their developments, exert a practical influence on our 
 thoughts, feelings, sentiments, habits and actions — in short, on 
 the moral, intellectual and physical condition of the world. 
 In the department of physical labor, they point the way to me- 
 chanical improvements, or penetrating the political strata, rev- 
 olutionize governments, or convulse nations when they are too 
 strongly opposed by pre-established institutions. What was 
 the political tragedy enacted in France near the commencement 
 of this century, but a practical manifestation of ideas which 
 had advanced far enough to expose the evils of the govern- 
 ment, but had not yet reached the construction of a better ? 
 At this point they but gave power to the blind instinct of re- 
 venge, without imparting the elevated feelings which a farther 
 progress will inspire. The masses caught some bright, transi- 
 tory glimpses of the true objects of government ; but the old 
 notions that the glory of a nation was to be found on the battle 
 field, and that the bosoms of the millions should freely bleed to 
 aggrandise a successful leader had not yet been eradicated. A 
 brave and cliivalric people were subdued — the blaze of enthu- 
 siasm was extinguished in anarchy, and the aspirations and 
 hopes of philanthropy were crushed beneath the iron heel of 
 
32 
 
 despotism. But the combined power of Europe has not been 
 able for a moment to arrest that progress of ideas, which in 
 this terrific struggle, with volcanic force, shook it to the cen^- 
 tre. The first convulsive throes of the pent up elements are 
 over, and on the new soil which the eruption has thrown up 
 from the murky abyss of superstitious ignorance, the verdure, 
 the bloom, and more advanced stages of progressive thought, 
 give promise that it will yet ripen in the consummation of those 
 high hopes and lofty purposes which mere physical force can 
 only very feebly accelerate or retard. 
 
 The general principle involved in these views, would in- 
 deed seem to be a necessary corollary to the obvious 
 truth, that intelligence is the only activity, the only 
 efficient cause. Hence thought moves the world, and the 
 energy of the changes, and the rapidity of the progress of any 
 people, must find their limit in the energy of their thinkers. 
 In confirmation of these views, we may remark that, where 
 there is least speculative thought, there is also least progress even 
 in the practical arts. 
 
 " Panidea" is also charged with being obscure. This, we 
 apprehend, is inseparable from the subjects of which it treats. 
 Its object is to extend our knowledge over a region as yet very 
 imperfectly explored ; a region lying on the outer confines of 
 science, where conventional signs of thought are not yet es- 
 tablished, and where the persevering and penetrating thinker 
 must consequently construct a language as he advances. To 
 make this language easily intelligible to others, is obviously a 
 work of much difficulty, if indeed this be not wholly impossi- 
 ble. As well might we expect the first pioneer in a forest to 
 make an open highway as he travels through it, as the first 
 explorer of new and remote metaphysical truth, to construct a 
 plain and definite language of communication with it. All 
 that can be expected of either, is that they will leave such 
 traces of their progress that others may more easily follow in 
 the same path, which will become plainer and plainer by use. 
 But even this inevitable obscurity is not without its beneficial 
 results in awakening thought, and causing more thorough in- 
 vestigation. That mankind should cluster on one plain, around 
 some lofty structure, is no more in conformity with Divine order 
 
ill the mental than in llie material sphere ofhuman activity; and 
 whenever a metaphysical system is built of sniiicient height to 
 become an object of universal attraction to philosophers, this 
 ambiguity of language, is sure to divide and scatter them over 
 the Avhole domain of thought, great portions of which might 
 else remain waste and unexplored. 
 
 But another and a more serious charge has been brought 
 against this work ; and some, who reiterating the charge of ob- 
 scurity, would hardly claim to understand its metaphysical for- 
 mulas, or to comprehend their various relations to some intri- 
 cate and subtle questions of theology, are bold to assert its 
 sceptical tendency. 
 
 On this point I might urge the known sentiments and piety 
 of the writer ; but I am aware that great and good men have 
 sometimes advocated views, which when carried out to their 
 legitimate logical consequences, lead to erroneous and pernicious 
 results which they did not perceive, and hence any argument 
 drawn from the purity of their lives, though it might exculpate 
 them from the suspicion of intentional wrong, would not prove 
 that no error was involved in the doctrines they promulgated ; 
 which, therefore, must speak for themselves, and be judged 
 without reference to the virtues with which they may thus be 
 associated. 
 
 To these doctrines we confidently appeal in the present in- 
 stance for a complete refutation of this charge. And what are 
 these doctrines, as we find them recorded in Panidea ? which, 
 as we have before observed, embodies the philosophical creed 
 of its author. 
 
 He does not, however, claim to have put forth in it much 
 which is absolutely new in idea ; but there is much of novelty 
 in the combination, and in the reasoning by which some of the 
 ideas are supported, as also in the illustrations by which, with 
 rare felicity, he reflects light into the profoundest depths of 
 metaphysics. 
 
 It treats of some of the most diflicult and interesting ques- 
 tions which have ever attracted the thought, or stimulated the 
 curiosity of mankind. The freedom of the will, the origin of 
 our knowled^f., thp fnct nnd the inodp of conununifotion he- 
 
34 
 
 tween the finite and' the infinite mind, the existence or non- 
 existence of matter as a substance distinct from spirit, the rela- 
 tions of the material to the spiritual, and the mode of God's gov- 
 ernment of the universe, are among the subjects comprehended 
 in its wide range of investigation. 
 
 In regard to the first of these, though in his " doctrine of 
 entireties," and in representing the Omnipresent Reason not 
 only as ever present in the human mind, but as control ing to a 
 great extent the succession of its ideas, he seems only narrowly 
 to escape necessity, yet in his own view he had clearly avoided 
 it ; for he distinctly states, that his method does not disturb the 
 identity, or mar the unity, into which material and spiritual 
 natures are resolvable ; and he repeatedly asserts the freedom 
 of the human will. Tliis is perhaps more fully explained in 
 the passage, in which, after speaking of the Logos as sponta- 
 neously filling the mind with its own ideal imagery, he says, 
 " I may will the necessary conditions, but the conditions real- 
 ized, the imagery comes of a law above my will." In this 
 view there is obviously still room for voluntary eflort in pro- 
 ducing the necessary conditions. 
 
 The origin of our knowledge he traces to the same Omni- 
 present Reason, ever present in the finite mind, spontaneously 
 impressing it with some ideas , and ever ready, on certain con- 
 ditions, to impart to it finite portions of its own universal 
 knowledge. In regard to the mode of such communications, 
 he seems to have held them to be as various as those by which 
 finite spirits impart their ideas to each other. We do this by 
 signs in the form of written or articulate language, by more 
 perfect resemblances, as in painting, or other representations of 
 the object, or by action. If to these, we add the power of im- 
 mediately com.municating thoughts by mere volition, which is 
 claimed by the advocates of animal magnetism, we shall per- 
 haps have embraced all the conceivable modes of imparting 
 our ideas. All these must of course be at the command of the 
 Supreme Intelligence. 
 
 It is manifest that every phenomenon Avhich is produced by 
 the creative power, even in the material world, is the result of 
 some antecedent, or concomitant idea of ihe Divine mind. 
 
3;1 
 
 and hence, let tlie (question of the existence or non-existence 
 of matter be decided as it may, in the observation of these 
 phenomena, we read the thoughts of God as he has himself 
 chosen to express them. They are clothed in grandeur and 
 beauty, and address themselves, with moving eloquence, to all 
 that in our nature admires the good, venerates the holy, is ele- 
 vated by the sublime, or awed by the powerful and terrific. In 
 thus using material phenomena as one means of communicat- 
 ing his thoughts, and consequently a knowledge of his char- 
 acter, to finite minds, the question very naturally arises, 
 whether the Supreme Intelligence in so doing, has called to his 
 aid, or availed himself of the use of some intermediate sub- 
 stance distinct from himself, and from all intelligence, and 
 moulded his thoughts in it ; or, whether all the phenomena we 
 term material are but the direct thought, the imagery of the 
 mind of God made palpable to our finite minds. It would 
 manifestly be puerile to deny the possibility of this. 
 
 We can all of us, by mental effort, raise imaginary scenes in 
 our own minds. We can close our eyes, and by an internal 
 power, which is creative in the sj)here of self, call into exist- 
 tence a landscape, with its hills and valleys, and forest and lawn, 
 and vary the picture as fancy may dictate. Nothing external, 
 then, is necessary to such imagery. Suppose we possessed the 
 power of transfering this imagery immediately to the mind of 
 another person, who should thus behold the imagery of our 
 mind, the same as he apprehends that of his own, but being 
 unable to vary it by his volitions he would discover that it had 
 an existence independent of himself; and this to him would 
 constitute it real^ as distinguished from the transitory imagery 
 which he himself creates, and changes at will. 
 
 We have then only to suppose the Supreme Intelligence en- 
 dowed with this power of directly imparting ideas and images to 
 finite minds, to account for all the phenomena of the material 
 universe, on the hypothesis, that it is but the imagery of the 
 Supreme mind, the thought of God made palpable to us. It is 
 obvious that it is only thought and sensation which we receive 
 from it, and the phenomena of dreams are alone sufficient to 
 show, that no externa) snbstanco is necessary to produce the 
 
m 
 
 same tlioughts and sensations which we usuahy ascribe to tiie 
 direct influence of what we term matter. 
 
 But it will be asked, by those who have not considered this 
 point, if it be possible, that all this material universe, which 
 we can see and feel, is but a mere creation of the imagination, 
 or a mere idea ! 
 
 With the author of Panidea we would reply, that it is no 
 mere creation of ow- imaginations ; and we would further add, 
 that it certainly is the expression of a mere idea of the Divine 
 mind ; and that even supposing it to be only the imagery of 
 the mind of God, thus made permanent and palpable to us, it 
 is still as real as any existence possibly can be. It exists m- 
 dependently of us, and resists, in greater or less degree, our ef- 
 forts to change it ; and hence, to us, is as real, as if it were a 
 distinct substance existing independent of all intelligence. 
 
 A thought, thus petrified, is as solid as marble ; aye. may be 
 very marble itself, as a thought still varying in the infinite 
 mind may constitute the heaving billow of the ocean, or the 
 waving foliage of the forest. 
 
 That material phenomena are thus entirely the result of 
 spiritual action is assumed ; I cannot say I think it is demonstra- 
 ted, in Panidea, though there is evidently much argument in its 
 favor, as compared with the generally received opinion, that they 
 require or imply the existence of a distinct independent sub- 
 stance. All that comes under the observation of our own sen- 
 ses, is as clearly explicable, or as darkly inexplicable, on the 
 one hypothesis, as the other. But if in the present state of the 
 question, it would be premature to decide, we may remark, 
 that the views adopted in Panidea are recommended by the 
 greater simplicity which they presuppose in the plan of crea- 
 tion. By thus considering the material as but an efect of 
 spiritual action, or a form of thought, all those difficult and em- 
 barrassing questions relative to the connexion of soul and body 
 spirit and matter, are at once discarded, and we have only to 
 consider the action of spirit on spirit, in producing those 
 thoughts and sensations directly, which we usually conceive 
 to be produced through the medium of a distinct material sub- 
 stance. 
 
li' any one is disposed to urge the almost universal convic- 
 tion in opposition to the views adopted on this point in Panidea, 
 let him reflect, that the same argument could once have been 
 quite as strongly urged against the rotation of the earth, and 
 that if such argument is deemed conclusive, no error which has 
 obtained general belief can ever be corrected. Or, if any one 
 would apply a still more popular test, and supposes he can sub- 
 vert this doctrine by knocking his head against a wall, let him 
 try the experiment ; and if he learns any thing by his experi- 
 ence, it will not be that the wall, or even his head, has any 
 such distinct existence as he supposes, but only that a foolish 
 mental volition, growing out of an erroneous mental idea, has 
 been followed by a painful mental sensation. 
 
 But the utilitarian may still enquire, if all the phenomena 
 remain the same, and are equally explicable on either hypoth- 
 esis, where is the use in laboring for a solution ? 
 
 Such an enquirer Avould probably not admit that the improv- 
 ing exercise of the intellect, the pleasure of gratifying the cu- 
 riosity, of ministering to the insatiable desire of knowledge, or 
 the beauty of a completed system, nor perhaps even the unan- 
 ticipated benefits which usually result from the acquisition of 
 truth, would be sufficient inducement to a rational mind, to en- 
 gage in such arduous and difficult investigation. Less sensi- 
 tive than Memnon's heart of stone, the dawning rays of truth 
 awaken no music in his breast. Light, breaking through chaos 
 upon a new and beautiful creation, kindles no transport ,in his 
 bosom. 
 
 But happily there is a utility in the views we find here en- 
 forced, which even he will hardly fail to recognize. Though 
 the solution of the problem would not in any wise alter the 
 phenomena of the material universe, nor its eflfect in producing 
 images or sensations in our minds, it might still materially 
 change their influences on our spiritual nature. 
 
 The views adopted in Panidea, are admirably calculated to 
 give practical effect to our speculative belief in the Omnipres- 
 ence of Deity ; to make us feel that we are ever in his sight ; 
 that we may, at all times, conimune directly with the Living 
 God. instead of being separated from liiin by the intervention 
 
38 
 
 of dead matter. There is perhaps no idea more calculated to 
 ennoble man, than the thought that he is thus ever the imme- 
 diate object of the attention and regard of the Supreme Being, 
 and that he may at all times be the recipient of the teachings 
 of perfect wisdom, communicated through the senses, in a lan- 
 guage of which the purest and loftiest poetry is but a feeble 
 imitation ; or imparted in that purely spiritual mode in which 
 thought flows directly from mind to mind, and the chorda of 
 sense and passion which respond so perfectly to the varying 
 tones of nature, are hushed in a presence which fills the whole 
 soul with unutterable harmony, awakening an elevated rapture 
 which makes it feel that all the material apparatus, though so 
 delicate and so potent, so seemingly perfect tor instilling senti- 
 ment and kindling emotion, is but a feeble manifestation of 
 the power which thus acts directly on the spiritual being. 
 
 The evidence of a strong, a controling desire to reach the 
 ultimate, and form a perfect system, is a prominent feature of 
 the Avork. As in the material universe each subordinate sys- 
 tem, though apparently complete in itself, is but an inconsider- 
 able portion of a large, and again of a yet larger system, re- 
 volving around centres more and more remote, making a series 
 to which the imagination assigns no limits ; so in the order of 
 intelligence, every advance seems but to bring into view com- 
 binations more and more extensive, increasing the apparent 
 distance of the ultimate, and discouraging all efforts to reach it 
 through the successive steps of the progression. 
 
 In Panidea we have a vigorous effort to surmount this diffi- 
 culty ; to reach at once the common centre of all material and 
 mental phenomena, and to find a formula which shall express 
 the sum of the infinite series of the progression leading to it. 
 
 That trait of mind which is restless and impatient of imper- 
 fection, and seeks completeness in its thoughts, is here strik- 
 ingly displayed, while the comprehensiveness of the plan by 
 which these results are sought, gives emf)hasis to our previous 
 remarks on that characteristic of the author. It extends be- 
 yond the former boundary of science to an outer circle, which 
 includes the heretofore ultimate principle of gravitation as one 
 of its subordinate parts, and embraces under one law, both 
 
39 
 
 spiritual and material phenomena. This higher and more com- 
 prehensive generalization, he designates as the doctrine of as- 
 similation. 
 
 This is in harmony with the effort made in the first portions 
 of the work, to reason from the material phenomena of vision 
 to the abstractions of the intellect, and surmount the difficulty 
 of the mind's extended action, by showing that extension itself 
 is but a consequence of mental activity, that space is but a 
 mere relation of ideas, necessarily arising in the mind, when- 
 ever material phenomena, or mental imagery are the objects of 
 its thoughts. 
 
 The difficulty of thus reasoning from material to mental 
 phenomena will be a23preciated by those, and perhaps only by 
 those, who have themselves made the effort. How far it is 
 possible to overcome this difficulty, seems to depend on the so- 
 lution of the great problem of the mode of matter's existence ; 
 which the acutest intellects have long attempted in vain ; and 
 we imagine the effort which is made in Panidea must rank 
 with those which, though among the most successful, have 
 merely enabled us better to apprehend the question itself with- 
 out relieving us from its difficulties. 
 
 There is, however, displayed in the work, so much profound 
 thought, such acute and thorough investigation of the subjects 
 of which it treats, and such logical ability, that even when a 
 demonstration appears inconclusive, we may well suspect that 
 it may arise rather from our not fully understanding the argu- 
 ment, than from any deficiency in the reasoning, which others 
 of the present or future time, may more fully comprehend and 
 appreciate. 
 
 But now, we would ask, what is there in these views, which 
 teach that the Supreme Being is thus absolute in the physical 
 creation, and ever present, in his fullness, in every finite mind ; 
 that he is there " an ever present helper ;" and that in him 
 " we live and move, and have our being," which warrants the 
 charge of sceptical tendency, in the sense in which that charge 
 is intended? Is there aught in such views to impair our be- 
 lief in the existence of God ; to weaken our faith in any of 
 his great attributes, or in the verity of his revelations? Or. are 
 
40 
 
 not their tendencies, rather as the author liimself desired they 
 might be, when in the closing paragraph of Panidea he says, "I 
 " leave these questions with the reader ; and whatever may 
 "be the conclusion to which he shall come, may it be such as 
 " shall strengthen his belief in the existence of God in his 
 " omnipresence, omniscience, omnipotence, and benevolence ; 
 '' and such as shall inspire him with a new faith in an elevated 
 " destiny for man here, and with afresh confidence in a contin- 
 "ed existence hereafter." 
 
 It is true, the writer often seems to have ventured far upon 
 that ocean of speculation, where with no aid from the usual 
 landmarks and charts of thought, " the soul goes sounding on 
 its dim and perilous way," but the needle which guides his 
 course is still true, still ever pointing to the eternal centre of 
 eternal truth. 
 
 That such charges should formerly have been preferred 
 against those who attempted any innovation in spiritual 
 science, or any extension of its limits, does not appear very re- 
 markable, when we reflect that ascendency in spiritual matters 
 then carried with it temporal authority, and that hence arose a 
 select class, interested in perpetuating prevailing opinions, and 
 especially in representing the Supreme Being as widely sepera- 
 ted from humanity, occupying an imperial throne in the remo- 
 test confines of space, and there holding his august court in 
 which the great mass of mankind were permitted to appear 
 only by attorney. It certainly was not strauge that those who 
 arrogated to themselves the exclusive privilege of pleading in 
 the tribunals of Eternal Justice, should denounce the doctrine 
 of God's presence in the human soul, ready at all times to en- 
 lighten the honest enquirer, by immediate and direct commu- 
 nication to his finite spirit, as a heresy fraught with the most 
 direful consequences ; or that they should apply the most op- 
 probrious epithets to such views, and to those who taught them. 
 But in this enlightened age, and in this land of religious liber- 
 ty, it would, I trust, be as unjust, as it would be painful, to at- 
 tribute this charge of sceptical tendency to such narrow views 
 and such mercenary motives. 
 
 That sucli charges are still so commonly brought against all 
 
li 
 
 innovators in spiritual science, probably arises, in ])art, from rt 
 vague idea, that every extension of the jurisdiction of the finite 
 mind is an encroachment on the prerogative of the infinite. 
 The same apprehension has occasionally been excited even by 
 the progress of natural science, and Franklin seems to have been 
 sometimes regarded as one, who with daring impiety entered 
 the sanctuary of the Most High and stole the thunderbolts of 
 Heaven. 
 
 Another reason, and probably that which has oftenest ob- 
 tained in honest minds, against the doctrine of direct communi- 
 cation of the infinite with finite intelligence, or in other words., 
 against the doctrine of immediate inspiration, as the uniform or 
 usual mode of Deity, is the apprehension that the truths ad- 
 mitted to have been thus revealed, and which are recorded in 
 the Bible, will cease to be regarded as extraordinary manifesta^ 
 tions of the Divine power, and lose at once their miraculous 
 character, and their hold on our faith and reverence. But this 
 apprehension should vanish, when we reflect that the evidence 
 of their truth is, that they came from the unerring source of 
 truth, and not that they were miraculously communicated. The 
 first point established, nothing in the mode of communi- 
 cation could add to the certainty of the revelation ; and in this 
 view, the advocate for the divine authority of the Scriptures, 
 would seem to gain no small advantage over the sceptic, by es- 
 tablishing that such revelations are a part of the great plan of 
 an all-wise Creator. An eclipse of the sun or moon 
 was once regarded as a miraculous interposition of Deity to 
 chansfe the established order of events, and he who had never 
 witnessed one, might have argued from all experience against 
 it, and have nurtured his incredulity on the impossibility of 
 the sun's being obscured at midday. But when advancing know- 
 ledge reveals that such apparent deviations are in reality but a 
 part of the uniform plan of creation, all ground for such scepti- 
 cism is entirely removed. And if it shall be demonstrated that Di- 
 vine revelations to man uniformly enter into the moral system 
 of the universe, it would certainly be a very strange logic, 
 which from this demonstration would argue a scepticism in 
 such revelations. 
 
 U 
 
But we must turn from this hasty and imperfect review of 
 his speculations, to make a few remarks on the individual char- 
 acteristics of the author, which time admonishes us must be 
 brief. 
 
 To common observation, there was little in the appearance 
 or deportment of Judge Durfee which was striking. The fire 
 of poetic genius beamed not habitually in his eye, the intensi-^ 
 ty of philosophic thought was not written on his brow. Plain 
 and unassuming in his manners, and unpretending in conversa- 
 'tion, the character of his mind came gradually into view, and 
 like the symetrical in art, or the grand in nature, required to be 
 dwelt upon before it would be appreciated. But though he did 
 not seek to be brilliant, the scientific eye would not long fail to 
 discover the sterling gold, the existence of which, the practical 
 observer might have already suspected from the absence of the 
 tinsel glitter. 
 
 He was thought taciturn, and for this opinion there was 
 probably sufficient ground, but when subjects in which he felt 
 a deep interest were under discussion, this trait or habit was 
 not observable. Touch upon the freedom of the will, the ori- 
 gin of evil, the mode of God's government of the material and spir- 
 itual, the mode of matter's existence, or any kindred problem, 
 and his mind was aroused, his countenance brightened, and 
 streams, sparkling with intelligence, flowed freely from the full 
 ■fountains of thought, which had been silently accumulated. 
 
 He was also thought to be of indolent disposition ; perhaps, 
 in the estimation of some of the busy world, an idler, wasting 
 time on useless theories, and aimless reveries, but there have 
 been few who could so 
 
 "justly in return, 
 " Esteem that busy loorld an idler too." 
 
 But he probably was not easily excited by the ordinary mo- 
 tives to exertion. Accustomed, in his speculations, to contem- 
 plate the grand, the entire, and the ultimate, the particular inci- 
 dents of life, on the magnificent scale of his thoughts, must have 
 shrunk into comparative insignificance, and hence lost much of 
 their exciting influence on voluntary action. 
 
43 
 
 But the desire ot knowledge, and that love of truth, whicU 
 nwere so prominent in his character, in^parted vigorous impulse 
 to those powers, which heeded not the ordinary inducements to 
 eftbrt. 
 
 It certainly was not wonderful, that one thus habitually ele- 
 vated in thought above the purposes of mere organic existence, 
 and the pursuits of the bustling crowd, should not enter with 
 ardor into their puny competitions for wealth and place. Nor 
 should we marvel, that a mind, comprehensive and profound, 
 bearing on its broad expanse, the wealth of earth's remotest 
 realms, while it reflected in its own tranquil depths the gra.nd- 
 eur of a supernal sphere, was not easily 
 
 " into tempest wrought 
 " To waft a feather, or to drown a fly." 
 
 But where do we find the evidence of greater and more perse- 
 vering eflbrts, and efl'orts directed to the most noble and eleva- 
 ting pursuit, than are evinced in his arduous, truth-seeking in- 
 vestigations. Verily, if his disposition was indolent, he has 
 displayed a wonderful industry and energy in overcoming its 
 natural tendencies. 
 
 Had Panidea been his only work, we should probably have 
 inferred from it, that his mind was wholly absorbed by the 
 reasoning faculty, and hence possessed ni a remarkable degree, 
 the power of erecting lofty logical structures, and of penetrating 
 by rational formulas to those misty realms, where to feebler 
 minds, truth itself yet appears in undefined nebulous confusion. 
 
 But when from it we turn to "Whatcheer," we find that 
 these logical powers were united with poetic talents, which, 
 with equal cultivation, might have become his most prominent 
 characteristic ; that, while, with resistless demonstration, he 
 could convince the judgment, and dictate to the intellect, he 
 could also sway the affections, and touch the heart with poetic 
 fervor. Though these powers, are perhaps not so incompatible as 
 has often been supposed, yet the combination of them with both 
 in a high degree of perfection, is still very rare, and indicates 
 great intellectual ability and versatility of genius. 
 
 The fact, that the poetic and reasoning faculties are respect- 
 ively adapted to each of the two principal modes of mental. 
 
44 
 
 operation ; the one to tlie direct examination of realities, nria- 
 terial or spiritual ; the other, to the investigation of the rela- 
 tions of these same realities, through the medium of substituted 
 terms, and the consideration of the mutual aid they render, and 
 the reciprocal protection against the intrusions of error, which 
 they accord to each other, may enable us better to appreciate 
 the strength and beauty of that mind in which these faculties 
 were blended in such full measure, and in such harmonious 
 proportions. 
 
 In Judge Durfee these were happily united with that ardent 
 love of truth, and exalted philanthropy, which made him feel it 
 to be at once the happiness and the duty of his life to devote them 
 to the advancement of knowledge, and the elevation of his 
 race. 
 
 But his labors in this sublunary sphere are closed forever. 
 For such change, however sudden, the wise and good seem 
 ever prepared, and as if anticipating his destiny, he had 
 already, by his last public effort, completed for himself a 
 mausoleum in our past history, where his memory is em- 
 balmed, and in the future inscription of which our children 
 will learn to appreciate his talents and admire his virtues. 
 There is a mournful interest in contemplating his views in con- 
 nection with the closing scene of his life. They were al- 
 ready so spiritual, that we hardly associate the accustomed 
 idea of great and sudden transition with his departure to the 
 world of spirits. It seems as if his soul had only gone 
 forth to mingle with those vast manifestations of creative 
 energy with which, in his system of thought, it was even 
 here so completely assimilated, and with whose author it 
 was so closely allied by such numerous and interesting rela- 
 tions. All existence had, in his mind, assumed a form so ethe- 
 rial that we hardly conceive that throwing off its mortal coil 
 could have suddenly imparted new spirituality to its concep- 
 tions. For him the material universe had already rolled to- 
 gether as a scroll, and had fulfilled its great purpose of con- 
 ducting thought through the transitory objects of sense to the 
 immutable forms of abstract truth, and to the contemplation of 
 that higher mode of existence,, whicli is eternal and imperish- 
 
45 
 
 able. Thus partially anticipated in its high office ol* awaken? 
 ing the soul to a life purely spiritual, death to him could have 
 no terrors, and to us seems robbed of half its circumstance. An- 
 imated by the rational and cheering hope shed upon the future, 
 by a life thus marked by a true progress of soul, and in which, 
 as he simply expressed it, he had endeavored to do right, with 
 calm composure he saw the stern messenger of fate opening 
 the portals for his entrance to a new and untried state of ex? 
 istence, and died without fear and without ostentation, 
 
t) L .\ i" 
 
 iO. IbOT. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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