NOTICES.

NOTICESIN CONTINUATION.BY A FRIEND.NOTICES.

NOTICESIN CONTINUATION.BY A FRIEND.

Those who have been favored with a personal knowledge of the Author of the short Memoir contained in this book, will read it with the deepest interest; and perhaps to them it may seem almost superfluous to say more of her. But Miss Adams’s works have circulated far beyond the sphere in which she moved, and there are many who are desirous of knowing her, as she was appreciated by others, and not by her own estimate. Such would be poorly satisfied with the short sketch she has given of herself, though her friends must ever value it as a parting legacy.

The ‘timidity of early years’ followed Miss Adams through life; and, even when surrounded by intimate friends, it neverwholly forsook her. It was a sensitiveness that sprung from deep feeling, and a diffidence that was the result of genuine humility. This often operated unfavorably upon her manners, and produced an awkwardness, of which she was painfully conscious. But there were times when the warmth of her heart, and the cultivation of her mind, gave an enthusiasm and eloquence to her language, that astonished those who listened to her. At such times, her countenance lost its usual calm placidity, and glowed with an animation that rendered it highly interesting. There was indeed a wonderful singularity in her appearance. In the circles of polished life to which she was often courted, there was nothing like her. In the circles of humble life, she was equally unassuming, and equally peculiar. No one could see her, without feeling that she was not of this world. It is possible that part of this timidity might have arisen from the seclusion of early years. But it is certain, that no culture, or discipline, could have formed her manners to the standard of easy and fashionablelife. She sometimes observed, ‘I know I am very awkward; I never could learn to make a curtsey.’ But it must not be supposed that there was in her any want of gentleness, or propriety. Her disinterested and affectionate disposition made her, in reality, all that the most calculating would desire to appear.

The simplicity, and often the abstractedness of Miss Adams’ manner, led many to suppose that her talents were confined to the subjects on which she wrote. Some considered her as a walking dictionary of ‘Religious Opinions.’ Others viewed her merely as an ‘Abridgment of the History of New England.’ And many said, ‘if you want to know Miss Adams, you must talk to her about the Jews.’ And this last was, indeed, a subject that always called forth the energy of her mind. She had faithfully studied their history, and she venerated the antiquity of their origin. Her inquiring mind was deeply interested by their ‘wonderful destination, peculiar habits, and religious rites.’ She felt for them as a suffering and persecutedpeople; and she felt yet more, when she considered them as a standing monument of that religion, which she regarded as the first and best of God’s gifts to men. It was the long contemplation of this chosen race that induced her, amidst all the obstacles that were in her way, to write their history. It was an arduous labor. Yet her work is a proof, that, in this ‘barren wilderness she found many a spot of verdure.’ But those who viewed her merely in relation to her literary works, knew her but imperfectly. With her extreme simplicity, there was an uncommon depth of observation, and an intuitive knowledge of character. She was often in circles where her timidity kept her almost wholly silent, and where she hardly seemed to be even a spectator. But her subsequent remarks would show how accurately she had observed, and how nicely she had discriminated. In speaking of a lady of her acquaintance, she said, ‘I value and admire her, but I can never be easy with her. She issokind, andsocondescending, that I can see she never forgets I am a poor awkwardold woman.’ At another time, when deploring the loss of a young lady, whose fine talents had made her the delight of her friends, ‘and yet,’ she said, ‘she died at the best time. Her powers were brilliant, and beautiful, but they were exhausting to herself; and had she lived, she would have faded before she reached her prime.’ Her mind was habitually cheerful, and her cheerfulness was much increased by her sensibility to the works of nature. She looked upon every object with the eye of a poet, and forgot her infirmities, and even her diffidence, as she described her emotions. On visiting her sister, who resided in the country, after having been confined to her chamber, in the city through the winter, ‘it seemed to me,’ said she, ‘as if the world was just created.’ No one could exclaim with more feeling and truth,

‘I care not, fortune, what you me deny,You cannot rob me of free nature’s grace,You cannot bar the windows of the sky,Through which Aurora shows her brightening face.’

‘I care not, fortune, what you me deny,

You cannot rob me of free nature’s grace,

You cannot bar the windows of the sky,

Through which Aurora shows her brightening face.’

There is but little doubt, that, had shegiven way to the natural temperament of her mind, which was enthusiastic and romantic, she might have been a poet. But her duties, and her lot, led her into a different path of life. In her youth, however, she occasionally listened to the inspiration of the muses; and though she never set any value on these productions, they discover much excellent thought, and a high tone of feeling.

The want of early advantages, to which Miss Adams so feelingly alludes in her memoirs, ought not to be forgotten, nor the difficulties through which she struggled. Her attendance upon any school was extremely uncertain, and often interrupted by her feeble health. Added to this, the schools of a country village are not often of the highest class. Even the elementary parts of education are much neglected in them. ‘I never,’ said she, ‘was taught how to hold my pen.’

There is nothing that more strikingly denotes the progress of literature in this part of the country, than the attention which is at present paid to female education. Thereare few branches, if any, in which boys are instructed, which are not now equally open to girls. Not many years ago, however, the test of a good school rested principally upon the exhibitions made of hand-writing, spelling, and arithmetic. Grammar, it is true, was professedly taught, but in a manner that conveyed few ideas to the pupil. To get the longest lessons, and to be at the head of the class, constituted the best scholar. By degrees, parsing, in its simplest forms, was introduced, to aid the knowledge of grammar. Composition, geography and history followed; and the education of girls began to assume a more respectable standing. Yet even at this period, our village school-master much resembled Goldsmith’s, of whom,

‘The village all declared how much he knew;’Twas certain he could write and cipher too.’

‘The village all declared how much he knew;

’Twas certain he could write and cipher too.’

It was at such schools as these that Miss Adams received her early education. Her ardent thirst for knowledge, however, and her industry and perseverance enabled her, in maturer life, to make uncommon acquirements.Yet she always felt, and regretted, the want of more thorough, and systematic instruction. Her father entered into trade as a desperate resource from the weariness of an agricultural life, for which he had no taste. He was plundered, and cheated by the man, whom he engaged to carry on his farm; and as he had plunged into all the transactions of a country trader, dealing in books and drugs, English and West India goods, through all came vexation and disappointment, and a total failure ensued. A large proportion of his books were left on his hands, and afforded to Miss Adams great facilities for reading. Her father, too, happily for her, had encouraged in her a taste congenial to his own; and her mind became cultivated, and embued with knowledge, almost without her own consciousness of the progress she was making. However unpropitious to her were the pecuniary disappointments of her father’s life, they seem to have exerted a favorable influence on her mind. Resort was had also, at this time, to the receiving of several boarders into the family;and from these she acquired the knowledge of Greek and Latin. Of this knowledge, she tells us she availed herself, for fitting three young men for College; and forMrP. Clark, one of her pupils, mentioned in her memoirs, she retained through life the warmest regard. He married a friend of hers; and ‘this,’ said she, ‘was the only match I ever had any hand in making.’ Of her mother, she always spoke with enthusiastic reverence; and though only eleven years of age when she died, she retained a perfect recollection of her. Mrs Adams was married at fifteen, and died at the age of thirty three, leaving three girls and two boys. Her short life seems to have been filled with usefulness; and the following epitaph, written by an Episcopal clergyman, who was a particular friend, and constant visitor of the family, may still be traced on her humble grave stone, should any descendant of ‘Old Mortality’ chance to wander to the spot.

‘Beneath this monument of love and truth,Rear’d by fair gratitude’s persuasive call,Rest the remains of innocence, and youth;Esteem’d, lamented, and beloved by all.Fond of retirement, and of rural ease,Her sober wishes never loved to stray.Heaven was her aim, her study, how to please,And carefully improve each fleeting day;To worth, a friend; a parent to the poor.Such was the woman! could the saint be more?’

‘Beneath this monument of love and truth,

Rear’d by fair gratitude’s persuasive call,

Rest the remains of innocence, and youth;

Esteem’d, lamented, and beloved by all.

Fond of retirement, and of rural ease,

Her sober wishes never loved to stray.

Heaven was her aim, her study, how to please,

And carefully improve each fleeting day;

To worth, a friend; a parent to the poor.

Such was the woman! could the saint be more?’

After the death of her mother, the care of Hannah, and of a younger sister, devolved on Elizabeth, who was the oldest daughter. They now lived in great retirement; and one of Miss Adams’s early employments was, weaving lace with bobbins on a cushion. In referring to this, she afterwards pleasantly observed, that, ‘it was much more profitable than writing books.’ This manner of life, with her desultory habits of reading, gave a romantic and enthusiastic turn to her mind, which was never essentially changed either by time or circumstances.

Miss Adams’s heart was however peculiarly alive to the ties of natural affection. She deeply felt the death of an aunt, who had shown for her maternal tenderness. But as long as her sister Elizabeth lived, she had, to use her own words, a friend, a counsellor, andguide. ‘There was,’ she said, ‘but one heart between us; and I used sometimes to tell my sister, in the overflowing of my affection, that I could bear to lose everything if she was spared to me; but, if she were taken away, I should surely die!’ Yet this calamitous event took place; and Miss Adams lived to prove, as many others have done, that there is, in the day of sorrow, a strength imparted beyond human fortitude. The health of this beloved sister was declining for nearly two years; and it was, during that time, one of her constant objects, to fortify Miss Adams’s mind for an event, that she felt was near, and which she feared would be overwhelming. It however gradually approached, and brought no terrors to herself. She was calm, and resigned; constantly expressing her ‘entire submission to the Divine will, and laying all her burden at the foot of the cross.’ There were no enthusiastic flights, nor was there any unnatural exaltation of mind in her views of death. Though in the bloom of youth and with an ardent enjoyment of life, she met the event like a Christian.Hers was a philosophy which was formed and nurtured by religion.

‘For years after my sister’s death,’ said Miss Adams, ‘it was a struggle to live.’ Her health was extremely feeble, her heart she believed broken, and poverty pressed heavily upon her. There were times, indeed, when she felt as if she had not even a home. Her father had made over his house and property to a son, with whom he and his other children continued to live; but as this son was married, and his family was increasing, notwithstanding his paternal kindness, Miss Adams felt, and could not but feel, as if she was a burden upon her brother. This was the most trying period of her life, and it was always recollected by her with strong emotion.

The first effort of her pen, after her sister’s death, produced some lines on that subject. They seem to be the very breathings of her heart, and are thrown together almost without form; yet a few extracts from them will best show the state of her mind.

‘The first attachment of my earliest years,Ere yet I knew to feel the attractive forceOf sacred friendship, was my love to her.Our minds expanding, each succeeding yearHeightened our mutual friendship. Not a joyEre touched my soul, but when she shared a part.When pierced with sorrow, her all cheering smileCould give me comfort. Well she knew to bearLife’s adverse scenes with calm, undaunted mind,And placid resignation. Grace divineIllumed her soul, and stamp’d its features there.The best of friends! Oh, how my bleeding heartRecalls her tender love! Of self unmindful,For me she seemed to live; forever kind.Forever studious to promote my good.“She was my guide, my friend, my earthly all;”Heaven’s choicest blessing. Not a single thoughtCould lurk in close disguise. I knew to trustThis much loved sister with my inmost soul.And must I lose her! While unkind diseaseThreatened a life so dear, my trembling heartSunk in o’erwhelming wo. Could prayers, or tears.Could sleepless nights, or agonizing days,And all the care of fond officious loveAvert thy fate,—sister, thou still hadst lived.’

‘The first attachment of my earliest years,

Ere yet I knew to feel the attractive force

Of sacred friendship, was my love to her.

Our minds expanding, each succeeding year

Heightened our mutual friendship. Not a joy

Ere touched my soul, but when she shared a part.

When pierced with sorrow, her all cheering smile

Could give me comfort. Well she knew to bear

Life’s adverse scenes with calm, undaunted mind,

And placid resignation. Grace divine

Illumed her soul, and stamp’d its features there.

The best of friends! Oh, how my bleeding heartRecalls her tender love! Of self unmindful,For me she seemed to live; forever kind.Forever studious to promote my good.“She was my guide, my friend, my earthly all;”Heaven’s choicest blessing. Not a single thoughtCould lurk in close disguise. I knew to trustThis much loved sister with my inmost soul.

The best of friends! Oh, how my bleeding heart

Recalls her tender love! Of self unmindful,

For me she seemed to live; forever kind.

Forever studious to promote my good.

“She was my guide, my friend, my earthly all;”

Heaven’s choicest blessing. Not a single thought

Could lurk in close disguise. I knew to trust

This much loved sister with my inmost soul.

And must I lose her! While unkind diseaseThreatened a life so dear, my trembling heartSunk in o’erwhelming wo. Could prayers, or tears.Could sleepless nights, or agonizing days,And all the care of fond officious loveAvert thy fate,—sister, thou still hadst lived.’

And must I lose her! While unkind disease

Threatened a life so dear, my trembling heart

Sunk in o’erwhelming wo. Could prayers, or tears.

Could sleepless nights, or agonizing days,

And all the care of fond officious love

Avert thy fate,—sister, thou still hadst lived.’

Many expressions of her deep feeling on this subject might be extracted from her papers; and to her immediate friends, they are precious records of a sorrow stricken, and resigned spirit. But the friendship of thesetwo sisters was such as ‘strangers intermeddle not with.’ The death of this sister seemed to be the dissolution of a tie, like that which occasioned the exclamation of David in his beautiful lamentation over Jonathan, ‘Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.’

That Miss Adams drew her support from religion under this calamity, her manuscripts very clearly show. She employed herself, when unable to compose, in making extracts from the Scriptures, which she applied to her particular state of mind. These she arranged in a little book, and preserved till her death.

In her memoirs, she alludes to a small circle of females that had gradually been drawn together from the neighboring towns, by a similarity of taste and situation; and in this circle she found great enjoyment. In after years, her imagination probably exaggerated their merit. Yet she retained many proofs that they were not of an ordinary stamp. In speaking of this knot of friends, Miss Adams, said, ‘they were all poor, and mostof them good-looking,’ and then added, with her usual simplicity, ‘I had the fewest attractions of any of them.’

Nor was Miss Adams’s pen at this time idle. The powers of her mind were early appreciated by her young associates; or, perhaps, it is more just to say, that they obtained that influence, which, however unclaimed, is stamped upon superior intellect. Mind is created to rule. Wealth, and all merely outward distinctions are thrown into obscurity, when brought in competition with mental power. This is strikingly exemplified in public and professional strife; and, though more minutely, yet hardly less obviously, in the miniature circle of private life. Miss Adams, with all her humility, and her retiring modesty, was thecasuistof her youthful friends. A number of her papers that remain, prove how often she was resorted to by her companions in cases of opinion; and the publication of a few of these, it is believed, cannot be wholly uninteresting to those who knew her in later life.

One of her young friends put to her thisinterrogative. Ought mankind to be respected for their personal worth alone, abstracted from all accidental causes?

To this question Miss Adams replied.

‘Mankind ought primarily to be respected for their personal worth; yet if accidental causes make that worth appear more conspicuous, it may increase our esteem, which still is founded on personal worth in proportion as it appears. The more we see of virtue, the more it ought to attract our love and admiration. Virtue becomes visible only by its effects. The diamond we value for its intrinsic worth. But when it is polished and set, its essential beauty appears more refulgent. So external accomplishments, and accidental causes, set forth the original beauty of virtue, and serve to heighten its charms. There are particular circumstances in which every virtue will shine with peculiar lustre. For instance, humility has intrinsic excellence. But it appears most attractive in those who are placed in affluent circumstances, and are surrounded by pomp and splendor. Fortitude, also, is an excellentquality of the mind. But suffering and adversity must bring it forth. Persons who have performed eminent services for their country are worthy of greater honor, than those who have remained in private life with equal worth. I conclude, therefore, that mankind ought to be esteemed for their personal worth, as it is rendered conspicuous by accidental causes.’

Another question proposed was, whether virtue ought not to be regarded as its own reward, without any reference to a future state of happiness, or misery?

To this she replied, ‘A regularity of conduct is for the interest of all, even were their prospects terminated by the enjoyments of this life. We cannot doubt that the virtuous Seneca enjoyed more happiness than Nero, his cruel and tyrannical master. So far as inward peace of conscience depends on virtue, it is its own reward. But we do not find that its ends are commensurate with its exertions. Honest industry does not always bring even a moderate support. It therefore appears evident to me, that therewould not be sufficient reward for, nor consequently sufficient excitement to, the sacrifices which virtue requires, without the hope of a future life. God, by the influences of his spirit, brings home the truths of the Gospel upon the mind, and makes them the spring of new, and right principles. Hence Divine Revelation informs us, “by his own will begat he us by the word of truth.” If we look for nothing beyond the grave, too many will say, “what advantageth it me?” Dr Doddridge observes, “there are some sufferings of flesh and blood, to which good men for conscience’ sake have been exposed, so extreme, that without some extraordinary support from God, it would be really impossible that the pleasures of a rational thought should be enjoyed by them.” Such support must arise from a view of a future state, and from a conviction that afflictions are but for a moment, and are “working out for them a far more exceeding, even an eternal weight of glory.” Not that I mean to say, we are to expect Heaven as arewardfor our virtue, independent of the free grace of God. Buthe has promised a glorious inheritance to those who do well, and this ought to stimulate men to the greatest industry in his service. Love to God is the great principle of christian virtue.’

On another occasion she was applied to by a friend, who was placed in an embarrassing situation, for her sentiments on the subject of forming a connexion, without mutual attachment.

The following observations are extracted from her reply.

‘It has been readily allowed, that marriage, without great congeniality, must render a person of sensibility extremely wretched. Novel writers have general urged the impropriety of this connexion from this motive. But as this life is only a passport to a better, the principal objection ought to arise from a nobler source.

‘Both religion and morality require that there should be a conformity between our words and actions; and, that in both we should always be entirely true. Now whentwo people marry, they virtually and publicly declare, that they prefer each other to all the world. If that preference be wanting, this declaration is a capital breach of sincerity. It is the declaration of an untruth before Heaven and earth.

‘The least deviation from truth, in this one capital point, imposes a kind of necessity to practise continual dissimulation. Having exhibited to the world the strongest proof of a peculiar, and individual affection, honor and reputation render it of consequence to keep up the deception. By doing this, however, the delicacy of moral feeling must be continually wearing away. And what will be the happiness of married life under circumstances like these?

‘The attention which a husband and wife have a right to expect from each other, must originate in a decided preference of each other; else the indifference of one of the parties may effectually destroy that happiness, which they had bound themselves by the most sacred obligations to promote.

‘But even this continual dissimulation,which is highly injurious to the moral character, and extremely painful to an ingenuous mind, will be wholly unavailing for its end. True love is of so delicate a nature, that it can never be satisfied with anything short of love in return; and it is of a power so penetrating, that, by its own light, it sees into the heart of the person beloved. Its primary object is to possess the heart. “Not the warmest expressions of affection, or the most fervent protestations, are able to give any satisfaction, where we are not persuaded the affection is real, and the satisfaction mutual.

“All these possessed are nought, but as they areThe proofs, the substance of an inward passionAnd the rich plunder of a taken heart.”’

“All these possessed are nought, but as they are

The proofs, the substance of an inward passion

And the rich plunder of a taken heart.”’

The first edition of Miss Adams’s View of Religion was published before her sister’s death, and partly transcribed by this sister. The second was begun as soon after this afflicting event took place, as she could collect resolution to engage in it. Those who knew her might indeed wonder that any motivecould at any time be powerful enough to induce her to publish a book. Her humility, her diffidence, and her total ignorance of business, seemed to present insurmountable obstacles. It was necessary, however, that she should earn a subsistence in some way. She had tried various methods. Making lace, during the war, had been one of the most lucrative employments. But home-made lace could only be tolerated, when no other could be procured; and as soon as importation become easy, it sunk into total disuse. Spinning, weaving, and braiding straw were by turns tried. But all afforded her only a scanty subsistence. Her eyes were weak, and often so much inflamed that she could not use them. Her general health also was extremely feeble, and her mind depressed by present evil, and harassed by distressing fears for the future. ‘It was desperation, therefore, and not vanity,’ said she, ‘that induced me to publish.’ Her memoirs mention the disappointment she experienced in the profits of her first edition. When about publishing a second, itwas necessary to pay a few shillings for the further security of the copy-right; and this sum, though so small, she was obliged to borrow from a friend. On the subject of poverty, she always spoke with great feeling. She had early in life been brought up in indulgence; and poverty had come upon her at an age, when the sensibility of the heart are most alive. There can hardly, indeed, be a suffering more acute to a feeling mind, that has experienced the pleasure of bestowing, than to find its means of benevolence cut off, and all its powers necessarily turned into a weary, wasting struggle for self-preservation. ‘And yet,’ she said, ‘I had then enjoyments, of which the rich have no idea. When I had any work brought in that would enable me to earn a few shillings, by which I might buy paper, or any articles of stationary, I engaged in writing with an interest that beguiled the monotony of my life.’ After the second edition of her book was published, she kept a school for the summer months for successive years; and, though in this employment she experiencedthe usual difficulties of school-keeping in the country, it was, upon the whole, a source of happiness. As the schools were in the neighboring towns, she resided among the parents of the children by turns; and her intelligent and acute mind often derived amusement, and profit, from these occasional residences. She treasured up many pleasant little anecdotes, that marked the habits and manners of the families in which she then lived, many of which retained much of the primitive simplicity of their forefathers.

One anecdote may not be unacceptable. She passed several months in the family of a respectable farmer, whose turn it was to receive theschool-mistress. His wife was a pattern of frugal, industrious management; yet not devoid of that desire of appearing ‘decent,’ which was manifested by the Vicar of Wakefield’s wife before her. The usual dress of females in the country at that period, when engaged in domestic employments, was the ‘short russet kyrtle,’ confined at the waist by a home-spun checked apron. This was the costume of the mistressof the family. The year Miss Adams resided there had been one of uncommon prosperity. The crops were abundant, and many little luxuries had been added to the household establishment. With injunctions of secrecy, the good woman informed her guest, that, if the next year also should prove to be as prosperous, she intended to wearlong calico gowns!

Miss Adams remarked, that these early scenes often recurred to her mind, amidst the wealth and splendor she witnessed in later life; and the impressions of both were heightened by the contrast.

That her sensibility was a source of pain, as well as of happiness, cannot be doubted. She censured herself severely for moments of irritation, and felt the keenest self-reproach for what might be truly called the infirmity of her nature. That she perfectly understood her weaknesses, and moral exposures, and guarded in her heart the avenues to temptation, the following resolutions, found among her papers, are a sufficient proof.

I resolve to read the Bible more attentively, and diligently, and to be constant and fervent in prayer for divine illumination and direction.

2d. To read less from curiosity, and a desire to acquire worldly knowledge, and more for the regulation of my heart and life; consequently, to have my reading less desultory, and to read more books of practical divinity.

3d. In choosing my friends and companions, to have a greater regard to religious characters than I have hitherto had.

4th. To avoid such company as has a tendency to unsettle my mind respecting religious opinions.

5th. To endeavor to preserve a firm reliance on Divine Providence, and to avoid all unreasonable worldly care and anxiety.

6th. To pray and guard against loving my friends with that ardent attachment, and that implicit reliance upon them, which is incompatible with supreme love to, and trust in, God alone.

7th. To endeavor to attain a spirit of forgiveness towards my enemies, and to banish from my mind all those feelings of resentment, which are incompatible with the spirit of the gospel.

For a number of years, no incidents occurred in the life of Miss Adams which claim peculiar notice. It is a long road, with only here and there a milestone. She continued to write, but on subjects not at all congenial with her own taste. She was enthusiastic, and a great lover of poetry and fiction; but on these subjects she distrusted herself, and made it her constant study to accommodate her mind to common life. Her History of New England is evidence of her perseverance in this purpose, as that work was undertaken soon after the second edition of her ‘View of Religious Opinions.’

In her memoirs, she mentions her difficulty of procuring books that would aid her in her purposes. The very uncommon faculty she possessed of comprehending, and making her own, the information a book contained, greatly assisted her labors. She wasinvited to pass a week or two at the late President Adams’s, at Quincy, with the offer of his library as an inducement to accept the invitation. He was much struck with the rapidity with which she went through folios of the venerable Fathers; and made some pleasant remarks in consequence, which induced her to speak of their contents. He then found, that, while she had been turning over leaf after leaf, she had been culling all that could be useful in her labors. She possessed the power of application to an uncommon degree, and was often so entirely engrossed in her subject, as to be unconscious of the lapse of time. This abstraction gave rise to many little anecdotes. It was said that she often spent days at the Atheneum; and that the librarian, after some ineffectual attempts to disengage her from her book, would lock the door, go home to his dinner, and return again, and find her in the same spot; and unconscious either of his absence, or that the dinner hour was past. A friend repeated this account to her, and asked her if it was true. She said in reply,‘It is very much exaggerated, I don’t think it ever happened more than once or twice.’

It was on a visit to Boston, that Miss Adams first sawMrBuckminster. He was then at college, and about sixteen years old. Those who knew him will not think her description of him an exaggerated one. ‘He had then,’ she said, ‘the bloom of health on his cheek, and the fire of genius in his eye. I did not know from which world he came, whether from heaven or earth.’ Though so young, he entered fully into her character; and before they parted, he gave her a short, but comprehensive sketch of the state of literature in France and Germany. After he became the Pastor of Brattle street Church, he, withMrHigginson, andMrShaw the active founder of the Atheneum, proposed to Miss Adams, who, from an enfeebled constitution, had begun to grow infirm, to remove to Boston; at the same time procuring for her, through the liberal subscription of a few gentlemen, an annuity for life. She had then commenced her History of the Jews; and nothing could have been morefavorable to its progress, or to her own ease of mind, than this benevolent arrangement. She could never speak of her benefactors without deep emotion.

From theRev.MrBuckminster she received the most judicious, and extensive assistance. She was in the habit of visiting him in his study, and had his permission to come when she pleased, to sit and read there as long as she pleased, or take any book home and use it like her own. Perhaps people are never perfectly easy with each other, till they feel at liberty to be silent in each other’s society. It was stipulated between them, that neither party should be obliged to talk. But her own language will best describe her feelings. ‘MrBuckminster would sometimes read for hours without speaking. But, occasionally, flashes of genius would break forth in some short observation, or sudden remark, which electrified me. I never could have gone on with my history, without the use of his library. I was indebted to him for a new interest in life. He introduced me to a valuable circle offriends; and it was through him that I became acquainted with Mrs Dearborn, whose kindness and attention to me have been unceasing. His character was the perfection of humanity. His intellectual powers were highly cultivated and ennobled. Yet even the astonishing vigor and brightness of his intellect were outdone by the goodness of his heart.

‘No thought within his generous mind had birth,But what he might have own’d to heaven and earth.’

‘No thought within his generous mind had birth,

But what he might have own’d to heaven and earth.’

MrBuckminster assisted Miss Adams’s researches, and procured information for her, relative to the Jews. He took a warm interest in this oppressed people, and often prayed for them during communion service, in the same language in which Jesus had prayed for them. ‘Father, forgive them! for they know not what they do.’ For about two years after the removal of Miss Adams to Boston, she enjoyed this intercourse, visiting his study with the utmost freedom.

It is impossible not to look back with admiration upon the benevolence that prompted these kind attentions; and it is nota difficult effort of imagination to enter the library, and to view these laborious, and dissimilar students together. Theone, distinguished by the natural ease, grace and elegance of his manners; theother, timid and helpless. The one, treading with the elastic step of youth, and the other declining into the vale of years; yet both drawn together by those sympathies, which spring from the fountain of perfect and everlasting good. Who would not be touched by the spectacle of a young man of distinguished talents, equally sought by the world ofscience, and offashion, extending a helping hand, and devoting a portion of his valuable time, to a timid and helpless female, shrinking from the ills of life; but who indeed derived her happiness from the same sources that he did, literature and religion! When, from indisposition, she omitted for any length of time her visits, a kind note, or a still kinder call alleviated the infirmities of her health. But this happiness was not to last. Miss Adams was only one among the many who beheldMrBuckminsterdisappear, at the early age of twenty-eight years, ‘in all the brightness of his honors, and without any twilight coming over his fame.’

Miss Adams corresponded with literary characters both abroad and at home, but she never preserved any copies of her own letters. She wrote with great simplicity, and singleness of heart, without any display, and set no value on her own composition. She had, indeed, a singular standard of judging. It was her firm persuasion, that she never wrote anything original. ‘It is other people’s thoughts,’ said she, ‘that I put into my own language.’ Were all writers brought to the same test, there are few that could claim much originality of thought; though the rich and varied modes of expression, and the different views which different minds take of fundamental truths, often give them the grace and charm of novelty. In this opinion of herself, however, she seems to refute her position; as it must be acknowledged that this view of her own works isratheroriginalamong authors. Her defect was, underrating, instead of overrating her powers. Her mind was like a well cultivated garden, stored with fruits and flowers, and watered by pure streams. But they were streams that flowed on just as nature had intended. There were no cascades, nor fountains, nor serpentine walks, nor rare exotics. All was simple, and natural.

Her timidity was excessive. It pervaded her whole character, and sometimes palsied the efforts of her mind. In her youth she amused herself with writing tales of fiction. ‘But,’ she said, ‘they all took their color from her own life. She could do nothing but kill and destroy; and when her situation became happier, and her mind more cheerful, she could not endure the sight of them.’ When very young, her health being in a feeble state, and not expecting to live long, she determined to write a number of letters to her young friends, after the manner of Mrs Rowe’s; intending they should reach them mysteriously, immediately on her death. But fortunately for the Jews, and for literature,her anticipations were not realized. She was early in life much in the habit of committing poetry to memory; and this she never forgot. ‘I could repeat poetry,’ said she, ‘I believe for three months together; and though I am now continually troubled by forgetting where I have laid a knife, a pencil, or a pen, yet the long poems I learned in my youth, I can repeat as accurately as ever.’ She went on to observe, that these recollections did not give her so much pleasure as might be supposed; for, as this poetry was selected when she was young, much of it was not of a kind which her maturer taste and judgment could approve.

Though Miss Adams was born and bred in the country, she felt the strongest enthusiasm for rural scenes; and they always seemed to retain the power of novelty over her mind. A walk, a ride, or a visit to any new place, awoke all the fervor of her feelings. It was on one of these occasions that she composed the following lines.

‘Such scenes the days of innocence renew,And bring the patriarchal age to view,Thus favor’d Abraham, in the days of old,On flowery Mamre kept his fleecy fold;While friendly angels left their heavenly seat,To greet the patriarch in his calm retreat.’

‘Such scenes the days of innocence renew,

And bring the patriarchal age to view,

Thus favor’d Abraham, in the days of old,

On flowery Mamre kept his fleecy fold;

While friendly angels left their heavenly seat,

To greet the patriarch in his calm retreat.’

There are few who were more calculated for the enjoyment of friendship and society than Miss Adams. Yet for a long period she seems to have been in a great measure deprived of both. It is difficult to say what effects might have been produced by the action of other minds upon her own. It might have roused it to more inventive exertion; or, on the other hand, in the fulness of enjoyment, her mental powers might have sunk into indolence. But one thing is certain, that her happiness would have been greatly increased by it. Those who knew her only late in life can fully realize how much she must have felt the want of a friend, after the death of her sister. Her strong sensibility to all that was excellent, and good, and fair in creation, peculiarly fitted her for that intercourse of thought and feeling, which such emotions naturally call forth. Her love of literature was nodoubt a high source of enjoyment. But perhaps even this might have been increased, by those occasional restraints which the forms and habits of society impose. The epicure is willing to delay his dinner for an appetite; and, upon the same principle, those who read, write, or reflect with the greatest relish, may return to these occupations with tenfold enjoyment, after giving an hour or two to a social circle, or even to the dull round of a modern tea party. But Miss Adams had none of these incentives. She was at liberty to read, or write, with out interruption; to turn over huge folios, or musty manuscripts, from morning to night; and if she sometimes suspended her labors, and walked abroad, it was for a solitary pleasure. Yet she allowed no sentiment of repining, or of discontent, to embitter her life; for she fully realized that,

‘It is th’ allotment of the skies,The hand of the Supremely Wise,That guides and governs our affectionsAnd plans and orders our connexions;Directs us in our distant road,And marks the bounds of our abode.’

‘It is th’ allotment of the skies,

The hand of the Supremely Wise,

That guides and governs our affections

And plans and orders our connexions;

Directs us in our distant road,

And marks the bounds of our abode.’

This feeling of resignation to existing circumstances prevented Miss Adams from making any strenuous exertions to improve her condition. Once, indeed, she projected a plan of keeping a circulating library at Salem. She had a considerable number of books to begin with, and probably encouraged a hope that she might in this way become instrumental to the promotion of religious and moral instruction. But she never thought superficially on any subject; and before engaging in active measures, she made full inquiry into the probable success and consequences of her plan. It was then that her upright, and conscientious mind, relinquished the undertaking. The reflection, that the emoluments of a circulating library are drawn from novels, plays, and romances, and that, in keeping such a library, she must be accessory to much waste of time, if not perversion of taste and even of principle, by disseminating works which often are read because they are new, determined her conduct. She felt, and lamented the injury, which the promiscuous readingof similar works had produced on her own mind. While they had sharpened her sensibility to the evils of life, they had also enervated her resolution to endure them; and she ascribed much of her mental suffering to this cause. She would not, therefore, pursue the plan of a circulating library, though encouraged to do it by some warm-hearted friends. Had the Waverley novels made their appearance in her youthful days, they would probably have rendered harmless the greater part of those which fell into her hands. Their just historical painting, their strong delineation of character, and masterly touches of passion and feeling, united with the exquisite description of what is beautiful and sublime in the scenery of nature, could not fail to have given her a juster taste, and directed her enthusiasm to a higher mark. Her own good sense, led her, in time, to discriminate, and to separate the gold from the dross; and she never ceased to derive great pleasure from a well written work of fiction. Her whole testimony, however, was given against thatpromiscuous reading of novels, which has been in times past, more than of late years, permitted among young girls. The rapid progress of education, by occupying the time, and expanding the mind, has done much towards the correction of this evil. Many now sip at the fountain-head of elegant literature, and feel the beauty of Virgil, and the sublimity of Dante, in their native languages; listen to the sweet melody of Tasso; and find in the christian leader of the early ages, Godfrey, a hero far surpassing the heroes of modern romances.

Happily the time has arrived, when the cultivation of female intellect needs no longer to be advocated, or recommended. It is now placed on a just and rational ground. We hear no longer of thealarming, and perhaps justly obnoxious din, of the ‘rights of women.’ Whatever their capacity of receiving instruction may be, there can be no use in extending it beyond the sphere of their duties. Yet how wide a circle does this include! Who can doubt the sacred and important duties of a mother? ‘Nature hasnot more evidently assigned them the task of nourishing the body of the infant, than she has that of developing, and cultivating the mind, in its earlier stages.’ It is her office to sow the first seeds of virtue; to regulate the first excitements of temper; to cultivate gentleness, forbearance, disinterestedness, and above all, obedience. For this, her own habits must be those of careful observation, of steady self-government, and of systematical arrangement; otherwise, her plan will be made up of miscellaneous feelings, and opinions, that will be constantly fluctuating.

‘It may be doubted whether any one can be placed in so insulated a situation, as to possess a right of appropriating any considerable portion of his time to studies, which may not terminate in a practical result.’ This rule, in an enlightened sense, ought to be the standard of a woman’s education. It ought to be the measure of her cultivation. But surely no faculty of her mind can be spared from this work. ‘She is designed by nature for elegance, and gentleness;to endear domestic life to man, to make virtue lovely to her children, to spread around her order and grace, and to give society its highest polish. No attainment can be above beings whose end and aim is to accomplish these important purposes. Every means should be used to invigorate by principle, and culture, their native excellence and grace.’[2]

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