former, and the light which they throw upon theology itself. "I mean also to attend a part of my time to those authors who treat on the human mind. * * *. I have just begun to read Locke. I find he requires great attention; I am determined, however, as far as possible, to make myself master of him, let the time necessary to do this be what it may. ***." He makes a similar observation in regard to Reid's Essays. I think he writes in another place: "If you were to read books on metaphysical subjects, you would not only extend your information, but improve the powers of your mind. These, you know, are perfected not only by the study of the mathematics, but also by those writings which approach near to them in certainty and accuracy of demonstration." Though it does not appear that he pursued this branch of learning to any great extent, yet, from the importance which he attached to it in early life, and the thorough and effectual manner in which it was studied, we may, in a measure, ascribe to it that acuteness of intellect, and justness of discrimination, which, together with his natural turn for generalizing and readiness in reducing all subjects to their principles, gave him such an advantage over men of confused and immethodical minds.

In this familiar correspondence, where every plan and every occupation was freely laid open, I do not discover many traces of that fondness for the lighter forms of literature which are generally so attractive to youthful minds. The study of metaphysical works, and treatises on moral science, divided his attention with the study of theology;

and history and criticism appeared to have been his chief relaxation from the severity of both. Though there was apparently therefore, no waste of his time in frivolous reading, yet his improvement never seemed to keep pace with his desires. He "lamented extremely that he had not formed, in the early part of his education, habits of intense study;" and while the successful result of his labours was attracting general admiration, he was constantly the subject of self-reproach.

It appears that Bishop White was anxious to have him enter, as soon as practicable, into the sacred office, and to settle at Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, in the spring of 1797. The proposition, however, which at first was readily accepted, was afterwards declined, on the ground of his imperfect preparation for the ministry, and of some unexpected disadvantages which would necessarily retard his improvement in the situation itself. The reasons are given for this change of his views, in the following letter to Bishop White:

"DEAR SIR,

"Princeton, Dec. 24th, 1796.

My willingness to take charge of the congregation at Lancaster arose from the opinion that it was an eligible situation, where a clergyman might be useful, and which, on that account, duty called on me in some degree to accept. My plan, however, had been to remain much longer a candidate for orders, and to pursue both general and particular studies to a greater extent. I did not know, till I received your letter, that the congregation could

not support a minister without his having recourse to instruction. As the situation does not appear so eligible as I expected, it has become a question with me, whether I ought to sacrifice my present inclination for study, and my desire to be more fully prepared before I come forward. These are favourite objects with me, for I consider that the duties of a professional life, and the cares of the world, will not allow me as favourable an opportunity for improvement as I now enjoy: I am therefore disposed to decline coming forward in the spring.

My choice of the ministry has arisen, not only from a fondness for a studious and literary life, but, I trust, also from a sincere regard to the sacred objects which that profession contemplates; when I have, therefore, farther indulged my inclination for study, and am, as I conceive, more fully prepared, I shall not consider it as an objection to any congregation that the salary is small, or even inadequate of itself to the purposes of a maintenance.

"With sincere respect and regard,

"I am, dear Sir,

Yours affectionately,

"JOHN HENRY HOBART."

His great indifference in regard to the compensation which he should receive for his services, seems to have been noticed by his mother with a prudent caution against it, and he therefore states his views to her on this point more explicitly :

"My dear mother does not seem properly to understand what I wrote to Dr. White. I have no intention of remaining with any congregation that

will not afford me a decent maintenance: I only meant that I would not insist on this at first, as a condition, before they knew my abilities or character, or whether I would please them. I considered also, that most of the Episcopal congregations are in such a deranged situation as to need the sedulous exertions of a settled minister to put them in a way of affording a maintenance. I would always wish my income from a congregation to rest on the opinion they had of my intentions and exertions. Thus explained, I think you can have no objection to my sentiments."

His fond admiration of the beauties of nature and the peaceful seclusion of rural life, and the shyness of his natural disposition, which I have often heard him remark, continued to embarrass him long after he had mixed extensively in society, are represented with great simplicity and feeling in the following letter to one of his college companions and friends :--*

"MY DEAR FENTON,

"Philadelphia, May 8th, 1797.

"I wrote a few lines to Forsyth the day before I went out of town, and was beginning to write to you, when I was called off. I returned, a few days ago, from Pottsgrove, where I passed my time more agreeably than in the city. My relish for this latter place decreases every time I visit it. My former familiarity with it, which was a principal ground of my attachment, wears off. So great is

The Hon. Charles Fenton Mercer.

the alteration in the city, and in the manners of its inhabitants, that I cannot now recognise the scenes of childhood which were the sources of much thoughtless enjoyment. The bustle of business, the parade and pride of wealth, the affectation of politeness, smoothing the exterior only-what are these to one whose taste is formed to intellectual improvement, who values, above all the splendour of wealth or power, the sympathy of a feeling heart, and the undisguised expression of its affection? Pottsgrove was the first place in the country at which I had ever been, and when I visited it in the glow of youth and health, the scenes were so novel and interesting, that I seemed to be in a new world, where every object was formed to enchant the senses and delight the heart. I have thus formed for this place an attachment, for which an indifferent person would probably be at a loss to account. I find that, until I am much changed, I can be happy only in the country. Ignorant of the artificial forms of politeness, and having never had much intercourse with the world, I am daily placed in situations where I am embarrassed, and my sensibility, as yet under no control, is wounded; perhaps I should rather say, that a pride of sentiment and feeling is mortified.

"There are but two families that tie me to the city; without them it has no allurements. I long to be at Princeton, where I shall be under no restraint in the indulgence of my feelings, and under no fear of deviating from the rules of fashion; and let me add, that I long again to press to my bosom my disinterested friend."